Chapter 137 STEPMOM wants my cock 5
Lizzy didn't wait for my permission. She dropped to her knees, the silk of the shirt pooling around her thighs as she looked up at me with those hungry eyes. Her head dipped with a smooth and practiced motion, and her warm lips wrapped around the head of my cock with a suction that felt like a vacuum.
“Yessssss.” The shock of it made me hiss, my fingers tangling in her hair, knotted tightly in the strands as I tried to steady the sudden, violent surge of pleasure. She was skilled and intentional.
She swirled her tongue around the sensitive underside, teasing the spot that always drove me crazy, her tongue flicking with a precision that turned my knees to water.
"Oh... Lizzy... fuck," I groaned. My head fell back against the kitchen cabinets, my breath coming in sharp, shallow stabs. She looked up at me, her eyes dark with hunger, and then she went deeper, took all of me, her throat accommodating my length with a wet, slippery slide. Each time she pulled back and down, I felt like I was being dismantled from the inside out, my very soul vibrating with the friction of her throat. My hips started to buck on their own, jolting forward to meet her mouth. She was watching me the whole time, her hand coming up to stroke the base of my shaft while she worked me over, her thumb pressing hard into the vein that throbbed against her palm.
Such a professional. So good.
I hit my limit before I knew it. I couldn't stop the surge. I groaned, my voice breaking, and I flooded her mouth. She swallowed every drop, her throat working in gulps, until I was completely empty, her eyes never leaving mine even as she finished the job.
She stood up, wiped her chin with the back of her hand, and gave me a final, knowing smirk before walking out of the kitchen.
Fuck.
....
That evening, the house felt like a trap. I brought a girl over, someone who usually knew how to make me forget everything. We were in my room, and I was driving into her hard, trying to drown out the silence. But every time I looked down, I didn't see the girl under me. I saw Lizzy. I saw the way her lips felt. I saw the way she watched me. The ghost of her touch was still searing my skin, and the memory of her taste made the girl beneath me feel like a pale, unmoving shadow.
"ShaQuan, yes!" the girl under me cried out.
But the more I thrust, the more I lost it. It was like lying to myself.
I couldn't do it. I pulled out, grabbed my wallet, and threw a wad of cash at her. "Get out. Now."
She didn't argue; she just grabbed her clothes and scrambled out of the room. Once again, I was alone, but the house wasn't.
Through the walls, I could hear it. The master bedroom. The rhythm of a man pounding into Lizzy. The sounds were muffled, but they were unmistakable. The wet slap of skin meeting skin, the bedframe groaning against the wall, and the way she shrieked—a high, piercing sound that cut through the silence. She was screaming someone’s name, but in my head, it was mine. I could hear her reaching her peak, her voice hitching into a jagged, desperate cry that made my own blood boil.
I hit the shower, turning the water to freezing. It didn't help. I stepped out, dripping, my skin burning. I didn't even bother with a towel. I walked straight into the hallway, my blood pounding in my ears like a war drum.
I pushed open the door to the master bedroom.
The scene was chaos. Lizzy was on top of a stranger, her back arched, her hair a wild mess. She was riding him hard, her breasts heaving, her nails digging into his shoulders. The man under her looked startled, his eyes widening as he saw me standing there, dripping wet and completely naked. He looked like a deer caught in headlights.
"ShaQuan! What are you doing?" she gasped, her rhythm breaking.
I didn't say a word. I marched over to the bed, grabbed her by the hips, and dragged her off him without a shred of mercy. She landed on the floor with a thud, breathless. I didn't give her a second to recover, my eyes fixed on the man.
I pointed at the man. "You. Get out. Now!"
"ShaQuan, wait... hold on!" Lizzy called out, trying to scramble up, her skin still flushed and glistening from the stranger's touch.
"I don't want to see him in here!" I roared.
"Okay, wait! Jeez, I have to pay him, though!" She stood up, grabbed her purse from the nightstand, and tossed a handful of cash at the guy. He didn't wait. He grabbed his jeans and ran out of the room like his life depended on it.
I didn't waste a second. I grabbed Lizzy by her arms and tossed her onto the center of the massive bed. She bounced once, looking up at me with a mix of shock and pure, unadulterated desire. Her eyes were dark, and her chest was still heaving from the man she’d just been with.
"You’re a whore," I growled, looming over her.
"ShaQuan," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"A cock-slut," I spat, my voice vibrating with rage and need. "You wanted to fuck? Fine. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stand to meet your husband in two days. I’m going to fuck you until you forget every other name you’ve ever screamed."
I dragged her hips forward, my grip tight enough to leave bruises. I didn't need foreplay. I was already at the breaking point. I positioned myself, the head of my cock pulsing against her wetness. I didn't wait for her to be ready. I drove in, deep and hard, all the way to the hilt in one single, violent motion. I felt her body shudder and adjust to my size, her internal muscles clenching around me in an instinctive, desperate welcome.
“Quan!!!!” She let out a sound that was half-scream, half-sob, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me even deeper into the dark, hot core of her. I started moving, my hips snapping forward with everything I had.