Wild Like the Wind

And when she got between his legs, he spread them wide and cocked his knees so he could watch as she went at him, sucking his dick, licking his balls, pulling them one by one in her mouth and drawing deep, digging her lips and tongue and teeth in the junctions of his thighs, jacking his cock with her hand when her mouth wasn’t on it.

After a long time of that exquisite torture, he blew down her throat after her hands slid up the insides of his thighs and clenched into his knees, pressing them apart.

But Keely knelt between his legs, her arms out like that, like she was a priestess in a pagan act of veneration to a dick she’d deified, so when he blew, he blew hard, a fist in her hair holding her full of him, shooting a massive wad down her throat that she gulped right back. And after, her head, with her silken hair all around, kept bobbing, milking him dry.

When he came down, he watched her lave him, her arms still out, fingers curled around his knees, her tongue licking him clean from balls up his shaft.

And then she kissed up his stomach, his ribs, his chest, his neck, and he adjusted his legs so she could sit astride him again.

She tucked her face in the side of his neck. Hound rounded her with his arms and didn’t even attempt to stop himself from showing her love and affection through his touch. He let his hands roam, taking in her softness, the heat of her skin from ass to hips to back to neck.

“Best head I ever got, baby,” he murmured.

“Good,” she murmured back.

“Never forget that orgasm. More, never forget watchin’ you build it in me.”

“Good,” she whispered.

He turned his head and kissed her temple.

Still whispering, she said, “No house for you, Hound. You need to be wild like the wind for as long as you wanna be, baby.”

He stopped his hands roaming and held her tight.

That could have been for him. That could be Keely telling him she liked that in him, liked it for him, and wanted him to keep it.

It could be her wishing maybe she hadn’t hitched her star to Black so young, settled in a big Victorian house in a nice part of the city and started right up giving him babies. Settled in young to something so good it owned all her heart, but finding herself strapped down without release to a life that wasn’t what she wanted when her man was no longer in it.

He didn’t quiz her about which way what she said went.

He just held her close and smelled her hair that was flowery but herbal and clean and mellow, felt her weight and heat against him, and knew right then, the next time she came to his pad, he should have the conversation with her.

End this.

Because he was in too deep when it began.

And now he was drowning.

At the same time he knew he wouldn’t.

It would be her who ended it.

Because no matter how much it took, how deep it dug, how empty it left him, he’d give her what she needed even if it left nothing of him, and after she was gone, he drifted to ash and blew away with the wind.

Hound slid up the side of her body, cupping her bush, shoving his face in her neck to listen to her heavy breaths even out, waiting until the time was right to stroke her wet lightly with his fingers.

And when that time was right, he did.

“Good?” he murmured, his lips catching against the smooth bone of her choker at her neck.

“I’d say that was the best head I ever got, but every time you go down on me, it gets better. So that was the best head I ever got . . . so far,” she answered.

He grinned.

She trailed a hand down his forearm and covered his between her legs.

“Just to say,” she whispered, “know there isn’t a man who doesn’t get when he’s got his fingers between his woman’s legs, especially after he’s just gotten her off, she feels it.”

He stopped stroking her but kept his hand there, the rest of his body frozen.

His woman?

He felt her head turn and she asked with her lips against his hair, pressing her fingers into his, “You gonna fuck that pussy, baby? Or just lay claim to it?”

Lay claim to it?

His head came up and he looked down at her to see she was flushed and satisfied but her eyes were still heated, and he knew his bionic sex babe was far from sated.

“Damn,” she whispered, her eyes roaming his face then she took her hand from his between her legs and rested it at the side of his head. “You’re so fucking hot. I could look at you for hours.”

“Kee—”

He got no more out.

She lifted her head from the mattress and kissed him, driving her tongue in his mouth.

Hound liked the feel and taste of that so much, he drove a finger up her cunt and swallowed her gasp, felt her hips move with his finger then allowed her to roll him to his back.

She climbed right on like she could now, and got way off on it, no condom in between.

He let her ride him until it was time to take over and then he took over.

He rolled her to her back and rode her like that. Then he got to his knees, pulled her legs up his chest and watched her take his dick like that. Then he pulled out, turned her to her belly, hauled her up to her knees and took her like that.

And in the end, he drove her off her knees to her belly in the bed, and with one hand shoved under her, finger at her clit, taking her there in a wave of orgasms that ended up with her uncontrollably yipping at the same time begging him to stop as well as fuck her harder, he finally shot in deep and clean, nothing in between, jetting his cum into Keely.

He gave her his weight, shoving his hand at her clit deeper so his fingers spread feeling the root of him rooted in her, also pushing his other hand under her, transferring some weight to that forearm as well as curling those fingers around the side of her neck.

“I want you to take my ass.”

He had a lot of things to say to her, things they needed to go over after they’d both come down, but that breathy announcement while she was still coming down took him off target.

“Say what?” he asked, lifting his head to look down at her profile.

She twisted her neck to catch his eyes.

“I want you to fuck me up the ass, baby,” she whispered.

His hips dug into hers involuntarily.

“Right now?”

She grinned. “You got lube?”

He did not.

Not there.

He did at the Compound.

“Nope.”

“Then definitely not right now.”

“Keely—”

“I’ll bring lube tomorrow night,” she offered.

“Babe—”

A strange intensity came over her face and when he saw it, Hound braced.

“I want you up my ass, Hound. I want your cum down my throat, up my cunt and in my ass. I want wild. I want fire. With you, I’m Keely. You take me hard. You ride me rough. I’m not a mom. I’m not the attendance officer at the high school that the kids alternately think is the shit, because I am, or think I’m a pain in their ass because if they miss school, I am. I’m a woman. All woman. The woman who likes to get fucked however you wanna fuck me.”

Keely had never taken her Chaos checks and sat back drinking martinis and watching soap operas all day.

She’d taken her job as the truancy officer at Dutch and Jag’s high school during Dutch’s sophomore year, this after having a variety of part-time jobs from about a year after Black died to when she got her masters in social work.

She was a mom. She had that job and ones that paid and got her out of the house. She took care of her boys and her home. And she went to school.