Blackthorn

by J.T. Geissinger

“What’s wrong? Why are you stopping?” His face contorted, he says gruffly, “I’m not who you think I am.” Whatever this sudden crisis of conscience is, I’m not having it. Taking his face in my hands, I stare into his eyes. “I know exactly who you are, Ronan. You’re mine. And I’m yours. And that’s it. Got it?” Lips parted and eyes shining, he stares at me in stunned silence. “Do you really mean that?” “Yes. I claim you, devil man. And you claimed me a long time ago. We belong to each other. Nothing else matters.” Looking dazed, he murmurs reverently, “Nothing else matters.” He flexes his hips slightly, so the crown of his cock parts my pussy lips. But it’s not nearly enough. I need more. I need all of him. I kiss his mouth, his chin, his cheeks, then wind my legs around his waist and hook my ankles together. Staring into his eyes, I whisper, “Nothing else matters. Now fuck me. Take what’s yours.”