Lola Stark: Destry

My body took control of my brain when his calloused hands slid up under the back of my already pushed-up skirt. He broke away from my mouth, both of us panting as he turned us around and sat my ass on the edge of the table. I hadn’t even realized we’d made it back inside the house until then. “Cherry, of course, it’s cherry,” he breathed, referring to my cherry lip balm. I hadn’t gone a day without it since I was ten; it was my biggest weakness. His mouth came down on my neck, nibbling his way lower until he found the spot that joined my shoulder and neck, sending a delicious shiver through my body straight to my clit. I was so turned on I couldn’t see anything passed getting him inside me, and doing it as fast as possible. I grabbed at his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, forcing him to break contact with my skin. Dropping the cotton in my hand, I took my time eye raping his amazing body. I’d seen him shirtless every day I’d been at the ranch, but up close and personal, it was something girls’ wet dreams were made of. I reached out and ran my nails down his muscled chest, not stopping until I’d gone past his washboard abs and my hand was wrapped around his denim covered erection.

A growl tore through his chest, and before I could blink, my torn panties were hanging off the chair beside us. I ripped my tank over my head and threw it somewhere behind him. I gave his cock a squeeze when it twitched in my hand, and his eyes rolled back slightly. His head came down taking my mouth in a lip-bruising kiss of teeth, tongues and moans, while he made quick work of my black lace bra. I grabbed his button-fly jeans and tugged them open with force. I came in contact with nothing but skin; he was as hard as steel and as smooth as silk.

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned when I pumped my hand down his thick, long cock a few times, causing his hips to buck slightly. One of his hands palmed an aching breast, pinching my nipple just barely, which had me arching up into his hand, practically begging for more. Destry’s other hand slid slowly down my hip until he grabbed my thigh. His fingers moved slowly down my leg until he got to my ankle where he wrapped my leg around his waist. Every part of me was screaming out in need; my chest was heaving with the fast breaths I was taking.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom, quickly tearing open the packet and rolling it down his length. I’d never known a man putting on a condom to be so damn hot, but the way he held himself—heavy in his large hand—was nothing short of sexy.

Sitting on the edge of that big wooden table, one leg wrapped around him, the other now hooked over his arm, he lined himself up and rubbed the head of dick across my aching clit, causing a series of blissful shocks to go off in all different directions. I was teetering on the threshold of orgasm when he grabbed one side of my hip and drove himself into me. My head flew back and I moaned loudly, unable to control the sounds coming from my own mouth, with each thrust of his hips. I gripped onto the edge of the table to hold myself in place as his hips found a brutal pace. Pounding into me, we turned into a frantic mass of arms, legs and slapping skin.

“Fuck, you’re so damn hot,” he said in a strangled whisper when his pelvis rolled against my clit, dragging me even closer to him. His hand dug into the skin of my hips and ass. I bit down on his shoulder and gripped my legs tighter around him while he slammed in and out “Oh, hell yes. Fuckkkkk,” I groaned, throwing my head back, completely lost in the moment. My hands gripped at his shoulder; my nails digging into his flesh as the first waves crashed over me. His moans became louder, and just when I reached the peak of my orgasm, he roared and came with a shudder.

“Dammit,” he mumbled against the skin of my neck, his hips still moving gently every so often. Shudders wracking my body as I came back down to earth. Our heavy breathing and sweat slicked body’s wrapped around each other.

He pulled out and helped me to sit up, searching my face for a second before turning around and collecting all my clothes and handing them to me. I’d managed to get my shirt pressed against my chest when he excused himself, leaving me sitting there, wondering what the hell had just happened.

I hadn’t meant for it to get that far, but now it had, I wasn’t opposed to it at all. I quickly threw my clothes back on and finished tying my messy hair up just as Destry walked back into the room. His posture told me more than I needed to know. He leaned against the wall opposite me as I slipped on the heel that had fallen off in our frenzy.

“We, uh…” Destry stumbling over his words only made it more awkward. Despite the fact I actually was starting to like the pompous ass, I didn’t want this situation to get messy.

“Don’t look too far into it, cowboy.” I straightened my skirt and ambled over to him. “We got caught up, no big deal.” I looked down at his crotch and back up at him again. “Not a big deal at all.” With a smirk and my ego bursting words, I patted his chest and walked out the front door, planning on forgetting about him and having fun at the bar. Who cared if my feelings were bruised? He was just a guy, right? I internally sighed at myself; he wasn’t just a guy. He was a guy I was insanely attracted to, a guy who’d just rocked my world on the edge of his grandparents’ kitchen freaking table.

I had a white-knuckle grip on my beer bottle as I sat at our table watching Amelia dance through the crowd. It wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t brushed me off like she had. I was trying to be gentle and explain to her it had been a mistake. But who the hell was I kidding? Every time I looked at her moving her hips, all I could see was the way she’d looked while I was driving into her. I took a long drink of my beer while I tried not to shoot daggers at Braxton’s best friend, Ryder, who currently had his hands way too low on Amelia’s hips. Hips that my hands had been gripping not even two hours ago. She was doing it to get back at me; I was sure of it. I should have known better than to have screwed her on my goddamn kitchen table, but I only had so much restraint. She’d bent over in that tiny skirt, testing my limits, and then when I’d lifted her into my arms to find some ice, I could smell the cherry on her lips. I’d needed just a taste.

“Settle petal.” Braxton’s voice cut into my thoughts. I blinked and took another drink, scanning the room for her. I started to lift out of my seat when Brax’s hand came down on my shoulder. “She’s at the bar.” He nodded his head to where she was standing, flanked by Austin and Ryder; both were radiating waves of ‘fuck the hell off’ to anyone who might even look her way. I sat my ass back on the cracked vinyl seat and feigned disinterest by picking at the label on my beer.

“Idiot,” I mumbled to myself. I was getting territorial for nothing. We’d had sex, so what? It wasn’t like it was going to be a regular thing. Even before I could tell her that, she’d done a great job of shutting me down.

“He’s not pulling the moves on her, D,” Braxton assured from beside me.

God, I hated when he read me like that, but there was no bullshitting him. I tried anyway. “Couldn’t care either way, Brax.” I pinned my sights on Karla, one of the local barflies; she saw me look her way and pushed her fake-ass tits up higher. I immediately regretted looking her way. She wasn’t just the town bike; she had an irritating high-pitched voice that was damn close to the sound of a cat being swung around by its tail.

“Oh, you’re on now, bro.” Brax disappeared quicker than lightning when she started walking over; I didn’t even have time to cuss him out.