Forbidden Fruit

Vendetta's heart raced, her pulse pounding in her ears with each thrust her partner made, ramming his hard penis deeper into her. Her hands were held above her head as she laid flat on her back, pressed into the mattress of his bed, weighed down by his larger form. She let out a desperate whimper as he took her mouth, controlling it with his mouth.

His tongue crept into her mouth, parting her soft lips and forcing its way past her teeth, wrapping and wrestling with her one tongue. Their bodies fit perfectly together, their personalities were such a clash that it worked, and their desires were the same.

He pushed harder, moving his lips from her's down to her right breast, taking the nipple into his mouth. Still holding her hands above her head, locking her wrists down with a large, calloused hand. suckling on her nipple, his tongue flicked it, the speed of his hips increasing as with the pressure that it pushed against her. She could feel herself getting closer to another orgasm. It would be her second and he had just begun.

He could feel his partner's vagina tense around his penis, and just as she reached her climax, he bit down on her sensitive, tiny pink nipple. She screamed, loudly, her voice shattering the symphony of grunts and groans.

"Oh God, Frank!" she screamed in desperation, feeling her body tense for that moment of pure ecstasy. It washed over her and the woman known as Vendetta felt her senses leave her for a short period of time, her eyes rolling back in her head.

***

Vendetta sat up in bed, her sheets falling down from her body as she covered her mouth, surprised with herself. Had she really screamed his name? Had she really had a sexual dream about Castle? They had fucked once, but that was it, and that was all she planned on having with him. He was good, but not the best, and they had both made it clear that it was a one time thing. If that were true, then... Why was she having sex dreams about him?

"Fuck," she muttered to herself as she fell back into her bed, wrapping herself up and curling into a small ball. She laid on her side, her knees bent in a lose fetal position.

She couldn't deny it, it was as obvious as the sticky wetness between her legs... She had something for Castle, but why? He hated her. Everything she did annoyed him, everything about him grated on her nerves, but why did she feel so connected with him?

Another sleepless night for the red haired woman, watching the shadows on the wall as cars drove by down below on the street. She ran her hands over her face, knotting her fingers in her hair behind her head and let out a yawn.

Just another night, just like any other, except now she had a disturbing mental image of a naked Frank Castle fucking her in his bed.

"Just fucking perfect," she muttered, pulling the sheets over her head.

On to Part III?