The Mane Squeeze Page 65

“For what?”

He had no idea. Oh! He remembered! Condoms. He needed condoms.

Lock pushed her hands away and rose up on his knees. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, he reached over to his side drawer and pulled out the unopened box of condoms. He managed to tear the box open and had a condom in his hand when his zipper slid down and Gwen sunk her hand into his jeans.

He dropped the condom and choked as she gripped and stroked. Frowning, she pulled her hands out and proceeded to push his jeans and boxer briefs down to his knees.

“Oh, my God,” she gasped.

“What?”

“It is bigger.”

Lock peered down at his cock. “Well,” he offered as explanation, “it’s in a good mood.”

“You’re a grower and a show-er.”

“Gwen? Are you crying?”

“Just a little.” She wiped the tears. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, but—”

Her hand slapped over his mouth. “Silence is your friend right now.”

When he didn’t try to speak, she removed her hand and placed both on her hips. “Do you know I’m actually concerned I won’t be able to handle this thing?” A few more tears fell. “Do you know how many women actually get to say that sentence in a lifetime…and mean it?”

He kept his mouth shut, not wanting her distracted or upset. Not when he wanted her this badly.

“Give me a moment,” she said, and he was afraid she was going to leave the room to sob in private. She didn’t. She simply spread her knees wide, which lowered her down a bit, allowing her easier access to his cock.

And when her mouth wrapped around the head, he really thought he saw God and, not surprisingly…God was a bear.

Lock tasted so good. Better than she’d hoped. Especially when all she could think about was putting his mammoth cock in her mouth. If for no other reason than she wanted to see if she could swallow the whole thing.

Over the years, Gwen had found there were two kinds of men. Men who made eating a woman an art form because they were average—or barely—in size so they had to compensate. And men who were hung like horses but felt that nine-incher somehow exempted them from one of her favorite forms of entertainment.

Yet somehow that Irish luck that had kept Gwen alive all these years deigned to reward on her the highest blessing a woman could hope for. A well-hung man who loved to give his woman head.

Nirvana. She had it.

Gwen took him in her mouth, swallowing him whole. She felt the tip hit the back of her throat and she almost cried a little more when she realized she wasn’t done!

Relaxing her throat, she kept going until she’d managed to get all of him in. Lock gripped her head and it took her a moment to understand what he was fervently whispering.

“Thank you, God.Thank you.” Over and over again he kept saying it. A more complimentary mantra a woman was not likely to hear. She sucked and used her tongue, shocked when he actually got thicker inside her mouth. She growled in the back of her throat, making sure he felt the sensation of it vibrating against the tip.

That’s when she felt claws against her head and Lock pulled her off.

“I wasn’t done,” she said.

“You are for now.” Taking deep breaths, he pushed her back on the bed and grabbed the condom. She relaxed back, her elbows keeping her chest up as she raised her knees and spread her legs wide. She wanted to make sure he could see how wet she was for him.

Lock moved so fast, she only had a chance to blink before that condom was on and he was over her. He kissed her first, and the kiss was wonderfully passionate…and desperate. So desperate, she didn’t bother to try and hide the desperation building in her. Why bother when she wanted him so badly?

Gwen kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his neck. His thick arms gripped her under the knees and lifted her legs until they rested over his thighs. He pushed her farther back against the bed and pressed home, his cock sliding into her, filling her, making her ache and come at the same moment. He hadn’t even done anything yet, nothing but pushed inside her, but she came hard on that way-too-big cock, her mouth pressing against his chest to stifle her screams.

What was this woman doing to him? First that blow job that almost had him coming down her throat long before he was ready to and now…God, now, she was coming again. Her muscles tightened around his cock and he felt it down his back and to his toes. He gritted his teeth, ordering himself not to come yet. How unfair would that be? He was not a sixty-second man, and he wouldn’t start now, no matter how amazing Gwen’s pussy felt.

After a few minutes she stopped, her breath coming in hard pants against his nipple—which was definitely not helping—and her hands dug deep into his sides. Then Lock waited a few moments longer. He didn’t want to catch the tail end of anything, so he waited, even while it was killing him, he waited.

Finally, she let out a sigh and relaxed back. The sign he needed, Lock started slow, doing what he could to maintain control, keeping his movements even and…and…

“Oh…oh, God!” she cried out, arching into him.

Wait, wait! He hadn’t even—

But it was too late. Gwen was coming and those damn muscles of hers contracting around him were just too much. He lost it. Pressing his hands against her shoulders, Lock pinned Gwen to the bed and fucked her hard. So hard he knew he couldn’t be doing much for her, except maybe hurting her, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Not when it felt this good. God, so good. Nothing. Nothing had ever felt this good be—

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