Chapter 13: The Second Claim
Otis pulled his thumb from her ass with a wet, slow drag, the pad of his finger tracing the slick, stretched rim in a lazy circle. Janet whimpered at the loss, her hips tilting back to chase the pressure, but he pulled his cock out of her cunt too, leaving her aching and empty. The cool air of the suite kissed her soaked slit, and she shivered, spreading her knees wider on the bed.
"Mmm, look at that," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "You're dripping like a faucet, sweetheart. And I haven't even started on you properly yet."
She turned her head to look back at him, her chest heaving, those heavy, full breasts swinging with every labored breath. "Then fuck me properly, Otis. Please. I need you inside me."
He just smiled, calm and unhurried, the quiet confidence of a man who had all night and knew exactly how to spend it. He gripped her hips and rolled her over onto her back, handling her petite frame with easy strength. The sheets were cool beneath her, a brief shock against her flushed skin. He reached over, grabbed a pillow, and slid it under her hips, tilting her pelvis up at a perfect, greedy angle.
"Watch me," he said, and the command was soft but absolute.
Janet propped herself up on her elbows. The room was dim, lit by the pale city glow through the tall windows and the amber lamp on the nightstand. In that low light, she watched him kneel between her spread legs. He was magnificent, that thick, heavy cock jutting from his groin, slick with her juices and still glistening. It was at least ten inches, thick as a club, and covered in a network of veins that pulsed with his heartbeat.
He wrapped his broad hand around the base and gave it a slow stroke, those calm eyes fixed on her face. "You like watching, don't you? You like seeing what's about to wreck you."
"Yes," she breathed. "God, yes, Otis. Put it in me. I need it. I need you to fuck me until I forget everything."
He laughed, a low, dark chuckle. "Forget everything. That's a tall order, Janet. But I think I can manage it. I think I can make you come so hard you forget your own name."
He leaned forward, bracing one hand beside her head, and lined the head of his cock up with her dripping entrance. She felt the blunt, velvet-soft pressure of it, the sheer width of him spreading her lips just from the tip alone. He held there, unmoving, letting her feel the promise of what was to come.
"Please," she whimpered, her hands clenching on the sheets. "Please, Otis. Don't tease me. I've been so good for you tonight."
"Mmm, you have," he agreed. "You've been a greedy little slut, and you've taken everything I've given you. But I want to hear you say it. I want you to watch me push this fat cock into your stretched out cunt and tell me what you are."
"I'm your cock-hungry whore," she gasped, the words falling from her lips without hesitation. "I'm your greedy little slut. I need you to fill me up, Otis. I need your cock so deep inside me I can taste it."
He rewarded her with a slow, merciless push. The head of his cock popped past her entrance, and she cried out, her back arching off the pillow. He was so thick, the stretch was intense, melting instantly into a deep, exquisite pleasure. She felt every inch as he sank into her, the walls of her cunt grasping and clenching around him, trying to accommodate his girth again.
He watched her face, those deep-set eyes tracking every twist of pleasure across her features. "Look down, Janet," he commanded. "Look at where we're joined."
She obeyed, her gaze dropping to where his cock disappeared inside her. The sight was obscene and beautiful, her pale thighs spread wide, his thick shaft stretching her pink, glistening lips, burying inch after inch into her eager body. She felt full, impossibly full, and he wasn't even all the way in yet.
He pushed deeper, his hips settling against hers, and she felt the blunt head of his cock nudge against her cervix. A shudder ran through her entire body. "Oh, fuck. Oh God, you're all the way in. You're so deep."
"I'm always deep, sweetheart. That's the point." He held there for a moment, letting her feel the sheer weight of his presence inside her. Then he pulled out, slow and deliberate, until only the tip remained, and pushed back in just as slowly, grinding his pelvis against her clit as he seated himself to the hilt.
Janet moaned, a deep, guttural sound. Her nipples were hard peaks, her heavy breasts trembling with every deliberate, grinding stroke. He set a rhythm that was almost insultingly slow, each thrust a full, sweeping drag along her sensitive inner walls before returning with that grinding pressure on her clit.
"More," she begged. "Please, Otis, harder, faster, I need it."
"No," he said simply. "You need this. You need to feel every inch of me. You need to remember what this feels like tomorrow when you can't sit straight and you can't think about anything but my cock in your cunt." He punctuated the words with another slow, thrusting grind that had her seeing stars.
She was trembling, every nerve in her body singing with sensitivity. Her fingers scrabbled at the sheets, knuckles white. The pleasure was building in a slow, inexorable wave, different from the frantic edge he'd driven her to before. This was deeper, more thorough, a steady heat spreading through her pelvis and up into her belly, pooling in her clit with every grinding rotation of his hips.
He leaned down, pressing his chest against her heavy breasts, the coarse hair of his chest scratching against her sensitive nipples. His mouth found her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "You're going to come for me, Janet. You're going to come so hard you'll see God. And when you do, I promise you won't remember a single thing that came before tonight. Not your name. Not your job. Not even that wedding ring you left in your room."
A sharp, heady thrill went through her. He knew. He knew she was married, and he didn't care. He was going to claim her anyway, fuck her until she was a mindless, dripping mess, and she was going to let him, every single inch of him.