Claimed

 (Marcus’s POV)

The entire day had been pure fucking torture.

Bianca was in full “newly in love teenager” mode, and it was driving me out of my goddamn mind. From the moment she woke up, she was all over me, kissing my neck while I tried to make coffee, pressing her full, soft breasts against my back, sliding her hands down my chest and abs like she couldn’t get enough of my body. During breakfast, she sat on my lap the entire time, feeding me bites of fruit and giggling at nothing, her ass grinding subtly but deliberately against my cock every time she shifted. She barely let me out of her sight for more than a few minutes. Every single time I reached for my phone, she’d lean over with that sweet but possessive smile and ask, “Who are you texting, babe?” or “Is everything okay? You seem distracted today.”

I had to play along perfectly. Smile warmly. Kiss her back. Act like the devoted, attentive boyfriend she believed I was. But all I could think about was Beverley.

Her tight, dripping pussy clenching around my fingers. The soft, desperate moans she tried so hard to stifle. The way her small, trembling hand had wrapped around my bare cock in the kitchen, stroking me so eagerly while her mother slept just upstairs. The hot, wet heat of her inexperienced mouth as she sucked me and swallowed my cum like a good girl. I wanted to text her so badly. I wanted to tell her how hard I still was for her. How I couldn’t stop tasting her sweetness on my fingers. How badly I needed to bury every thick inch of my cock inside her young, forbidden pussy and finally claim what was mine.

But Bianca was glued to my side like a second skin, making it impossible.

We spent the morning running errands together. She held my hand the entire time, leaning into me in every store, kissing me openly in the middle of aisles, whispering filthy little promises about what she wanted to do to me when we got home. In the afternoon, she insisted we watch TV together on the couch. She curled up against my chest, her hand resting possessively on my thigh, occasionally sliding higher until her fingers brushed dangerously close to my half-hard cock.

I kept one arm around her, rubbing her back soothingly, while my mind was completely upstairs with her daughter. Every few minutes I’d glance toward the stairs, hoping to catch even a glimpse of Beverley. She stayed hidden in her room most of the day, but when she finally came down for water or a quick snack, our eyes would meet for a split second across the room. That brief, charged eye contact was enough to make my cock twitch and throb painfully in my sweatpants. I could see the same frustration and hunger mirrored in her gaze before she quickly looked away, cheeks flushing.

I tried to text her once while Bianca went to the bathroom.

Marcus: I can’t stop thinking about how wet you were on my fingers yesterday. How tight you felt. I need you so fucking badly, baby girl.

But Bianca came back faster than expected. She saw me with my phone and immediately cuddled closer, kissing my jaw.

“Who are you texting?” she asked playfully, her hand sliding up my thigh again, dangerously close.

“Just work stuff,” I lied smoothly, locking the screen and pulling her into a deep, distracting kiss. She melted against me instantly, moaning softly into my mouth as her tongue met mine. I kissed her harder than necessary, using the moment to grind her against me while imagining it was Beverley’s softer, more hesitant body instead. My cock throbbed at the thought.

The rest of the day dragged on like that. Bianca was insatiable, touching me constantly, kissing me every chance she got, whispering how much she loved having me around and how happy I made her. I played the part perfectly. When she got too horny in the afternoon, I fucked her right there on the couch, bending her over the armrest and pounding into her from behind while she moaned my name loudly. She came hard, clenching around my cock, her body shaking, but my mind was somewhere else the entire time. I kept imagining it was Beverley’s much tighter, younger pussy I was buried in. Beverley’s soft whimpers and gasps. Beverley’s body shaking as I claimed her completely.

I kept picturing Beverley upstairs, frustrated and aching just like me. Wondering if she was touching herself in her room while thinking about my fingers stretching her open. Wondering if she was as desperate for me as I was for her. The jealousy and obsession only made my need sharper, darker.

By evening, I was on edge, my cock half-hard for most of the day and now fully aching with unreleased tension. Every time Bianca kissed me, I imagined Beverley’s softer, more hesitant lips. Every time she touched my chest or thigh, I remembered Beverley’s small hand wrapped around my thick cock in the kitchen, stroking me so eagerly. I needed real release. I needed her.

When Bianca finally announced she was going to take a long, relaxing bath after dinner, I saw my window of opportunity.

The second I heard the bathroom door close and the water start running, I grabbed my phone and typed quickly, my heart hammering.

Marcus: Come downstairs. Kitchen. Now. Your mom is in the bath.

I waited in the dimly lit kitchen, heart pounding with dark anticipation, my cock already fully hard and straining obscenely against my sweatpants. I paced slowly, adjusting myself as I replayed every stolen moment we’d shared, the hallway, the kitchen touches, her mouth on me. The risk had been thrilling, but now we finally had real time.

This time, I wasn’t going to stop at kissing or fingering.

Tonight, I was finally going to claim what was mine. I was going to bury myself deep inside Beverley’s tight young pussy, fuck her raw, and ruin her for anyone else.

I waited and waited until.i got tired, no reply and she still didn't show up. I tiptoed to her room and peeked through the little hole and saw that she was asleep, I went to my room in disappointment. 

I was going to get her, probably not today, but soon.