Page 68 of Anarchy Missing

His hands are on my hips, thumbs caressing the soft dent on either side of the bone. And with each sweep he presses them closer and closer, until they reach the folds of my pussy and he pulls my lips back.

One final look up at his face before he lowers his mouth and then… I shake my head, close my eyes, and just…

“Oh…” I’m panting as he swirls his tongue around in small circles around the sweet spot that makes me buck my hips and arch my back. I reach down for his hair, unable to care about his instructions to keep them at my side. I fist handfuls of it. It’s just long enough to get a good grip and push him into me. He hikes both my legs up to my chest, pinning them down with the full length of his arms.

The feelings that rush through my body are almost indescribable. It’s so intense. I don’t recall ever having a man eat me out like this. Never with so much enthusiasm. His tongue never stops, short, quick flicks alternating with long, slow sweeps. He pushes himself inside my pussy, and it just makes me want more.

“More,” I whisper. “Take off your—”

“Shhh,” he tells me again between licking. He lets go of my legs, but I hold them up, making sure he has the access he needs as a finger presses into my asshole. His other hand is strumming my clit as he probes my pussy with his tongue and that’s it.

I’m there.

“Holy…” I don’t get past that before I start moaning.

Case laughs softly as I orgasm against his mouth, the wetness pouring out as he places his whole mouth on me, bringing my clit inside his mouth to suck gently. Until it’s so intense I’m trying to push his head off me. When he doesn’t give in, I squirm, my body desperate for relief, until I finally maneuver away, panting hard.

He falls into me, his head on my stomach, his hands seeking out my breasts to give them one last fierce squeeze as I lie there, spent.

We haven’t even fucked yet and I’m exhausted. “Jesus Christ,” I say, panting hard.

He doesn’t answer, just goes to work taking off his pants. When I look down he’s fisting his thick, hard cock. Stroking himself. When I look back up to his face, he’s watching me. “Relax,” he says. “Just enjoy it.”

He straightens me out so I’m not curled up anymore, but lying flat on my back, parts my legs, positions himself between them, and thrusts forward. My pussy is stretched so far, I wince as he enters me. But then he’s in, his upper body pressing against mine, his hands on either side of my head, softly stroking my face.

We stare at each other as we move together. It’s a slow fuck. Like the first time we did it, all those years ago. And he never breaks our visual connection. Long pushes, until he’s so far inside me, I press on his chest to make him back off. And then the relief as he withdraws so far, I have to grip his shoulders in a desperate plea to pull him back in.

It’s a tug of war. I want more, I want less, I want more, I want less. And I realize… that’s exactly how I feel about all of him. His big personality. His secrets. His crazy friends and his stupid holographic butler.

I want more and less at the same time. And it’s not good.

“Shhhh,” Case says, reading my thoughts as he continues torturing me with his attention, and his affection, and his irresistible mystery.

He fucks me like that. Brings me to climax again and then pulls out and comes all over my stomach in long spurts of white-hot finality. He keeps me in that place between here and there. Confuses me with my own twisted thoughts about who he is, who I am. What we want and how many, many things we’re about to lose if we keep seeing each other.

And at this moment I can say with clear certainty… I don’t care.

I really don’t care.