It was so intense that I had to pull his hair to keep him from breaking me. And even then, the aftershocks still wrecked me.
“Mmm.” Veto licked his lips in a smacking sound, then sucked on the fingers that had been inside me. Something about the way he enjoyed the taste was insanely hot. He crawled up from his knees to hover over me. “I hope I didn't scare you off. Just say the word and we stop.”
“Are you joking?” I panted, pulling him in for a kiss. “Don't you have more to show me?”
“If—”
“Don't say it.” I cut him off with a smile, then a kiss. His hard figure was carved with heavy shadows from the warm yellow light that flooded in through the open bedroom door. “I can only get so wet.”
He flashed a mischievous grin, pulling a condom from his pants pocket where they hung nearby on the chair. As he knelt in front of me, his cock tenting his boxers, a flutter of nerves made me hesitate.
Veto studied me curiously as he tore open the condom. His face said he was starting to doubt I wanted to go all the way. Gritting my teeth, I hooked my fingertips in his underwear, sliding them down. His cock was unleashed, bouncing into the air. My eyes widened at how big it was. I worked my hand up and down the shaft, I could just barely get my fingers around it. “Wow.”
“Just you wait.” He offered me the condom.
Trembling through my body, I took the rubber circle. The sound of the foil tearing pushed my heart into my throat. Guiding the latex over his swollen length was intensely erotic.
Veto pressed me into the bed. He rubbed the head of his cock back and forth over my swollen pussy until I writhed in anticipation.
“Please,” I moaned. His eyes narrowed, then he slipped his cock-head in just a little only to pull it out; torturing me! I grabbed his tight ass and dug my nails in. “Ah! Fuck me already.”
He slowly pushed into my soaked pussy, but infuriatingly, did it at his own pace. I crushed every inch he gave me and yearned for more. His cock was warm and huge, and split me almost to the point of discomfort. Almost.
It was incredible.
He slid out and slowly thrust back in, then again. I was thrumming now, on the cusp of climax and craving it. I needed relief from this hot pressure. He pulled my legs apart, a hand at each ankle, and opened me wide. The motion allowed him impossibly deeper inside of me.
I gasped, my whole body quivered with pleasure. Ecstasy made his eyes half-close, lips tight in a line. But he never looked away from me; he was savoring this. Finally, he crushed into me and started to speed up, his body sliding over mine. I was drunk off the friction. I held on for dear life.
Sparks of heat traveled through my thighs and turned my quads into rocks; even my toes cramped from the tension. He whispered in my ear, teeth brushing my flesh. “You're so close. Come for me, Calli. I need to feel you lose control.”
My body rocked forward, then went completely rigid. All my muscles tensed as the deep orgasm radiated through me. I screamed until I saw spots of color—my lungs gave up on trying to scrape up oxygen. We were animals in heat. Wild. Hungry.
I was far from a virgin, but this still felt like the first time. Like somehow all the sex I'd had up to this point was just foreplay. Veto was a force of nature—strong and unpredictable. He pinned my shoulders, holding me down and moaning just loud enough for only me to hear. It was beyond intimate.
Through the walls of the condom, his cock flared. It was bigger than ever, throbbing with massive waves of lust. The ridge of his tip rubbed over and over, forcing me to come helplessly again. All of my brain... my mouth... everything was buttery… hypersensitive. I could have felt an ant sneeze.
I definitely felt him swell and lock up as he came. The condom might as well have not existed for how his spurts of hot seed filled it up, aching to reach me through the latex. I regretted the protection—briefly, but it was a primal regret for sure.
In the after-glow, naked and sticky, I laid there with him next to me. He said something, but crushing exhaustion had finally overcome me and my whole world was buried beneath billions of grains of sand. One last thought burrowed through my mind before I shamelessly passed out.
Veto just ruined sex for me with any other man.
Chapter 5
Calli
“Who are you?” I asked sometime later when we both woke up. I was nestled in Veto's shoulder, safe and warm in our tiny bed. I was rested, but even more than that. In his arms, I felt at peace. Veto was a stranger to me in almost every way, yet I couldn't deny the bliss I had in this moment.
This can't last. We were only ships passing in the night. I selfishly wanted more, but I'd never have the courage to pursue it. Besides... he'd just moved into my tiny, forgettable town. I was doing my best to escape that place.
“That's a pretty loaded question.” His voice was gravelly from just waking up. It was nice. I imagined hearing that every morning and felt a pang of sadness in knowing that it would only be a fantasy. “What defines who we are? Our jobs? Our values? Our actions?”
That was a bit deeper than I'd expected, but I didn't mind deep. It was refreshing, actually. Most of my conversations were surface-level pleasantries with customers or listening to Marcos grumble about how much better things used to be before his wife left him.
“I'd never thought of it that way.” I paused, then reorganized my thoughts into a less philosophic question. “What do you do for work?”
“Ask me something else,” Veto was quick to reply. “Anything.”
That only made me more curious. My mind went wild with speculations. Was he in the witness protection program? Or was he a spy? Maybe he was a mob boss! I wasn't an expert or anything, but I did watch all six seasons of The Sopranos.
“Okay. Hmm.” I thought it over as I drew little circles on his chest with my finger. “How do you know Zenya and Clint?”
He shot me a look, then stared up at the ceiling. “I used to work with Clint. What else you got?”
“Sorry, right. No work stuff.” Veto worked at Goldlock Industries? I didn't know much about the company aside from them being a global conglomerate. “Why move out of New York? And of all places, why the hell would you pick my crappy home town?”
“Roslington has a lot of charm,” he said softly. He kept his focus up above. I couldn't sense any sarcasm in his tone—he was serious.
“We're talking about the same place, right? I've lived there my whole life and the only charm I've seen is of the Lucky variety you find in the cereal aisle.”
“I think you're too close to it to see what's right in front of you.” He cracked a small grin, then washed down my body with his eyes. A little thrill coursed through me.
“You're telling me that a tired old mill town has more charm than Manhattan?” I raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Have you been to Pastiche Pastry Boutique? Their waiting line dividers are vintage cafe racer motorcycles.”
“That sounds a bit cumbersome. I believe the term is 'manufactured quirk.'” He took on a more somber tone. “This city has a way of grinding you down into your simplest form. You become your job title. Bartender. CEO. Lawyer. And then you get ground down even further. Consumer. Your town is different. There, I'm a story told over a coffee and then forgotten. Here? I'm just click bait, a headline.”