His cock is wet in my hand, wet from my mouth, and my lips feel swollen already.
I can’t read his expression. But when he growls low in his throat and thrusts his hips forward, that’s clear as can be. I swallow him again and moan around his length.
He fucks my mouth, using my tongue, using his new decorations. It’s a wicked combination. He gets bigger than I remember, until he’s heavy on my tongue and my mouth is stretched wide.
With a gasp, he wrenches out of me and pushes me onto all fours.
“Where are those fucking condoms?” His voice isragged but his touch is firm, confident as he mounts me from behind.
I can’t see him, but I can feel the shiver-inducing heavy weight of his cock, bumping against my ass, and the rip of a wrapper completes the picture of what he’s doing.
I stretch my arms out in front of me and lower my head, letting my hips rise to meet him. Letting go of everything else. All thought, any worry.
Nothing else matters but receiving the thick press of Garrett’s cock. Of being fucked and enjoying it for what it is. A gift, pure pleasure.
And it’s so good once I let everything else go. He stretches me on the way in, and I’m not even sure I feel the piercings as he buries himself to the hilt, but I for sure feel them as he rocks his hips back.
I feel the heck out of them in the best way.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
He tightens his hold on my hips. “Yeah? Good?”
“Harder.”
He snaps forward, driving deep.
“Yes,” I pant. “More.”
He shifts his thighs wider, adding the weight of his body to the next soul-thudding thrust. It’s perfect.
Cursing, he curves over me, covering my back with his body. His t-shirt clings to the damp sweat on my back. He presses his forehead to my shoulder and picks up the pace. One of his hands wraps around to find my clit.
That extra pressure is all I need to shoot off like a rocket.
It’s not the kind of orgasm I was chasing when I was on his face. It’s not the kind of orgasm I was thinking about at all. It’s the kind of bright, short bursting climax I needed, something…functional. It floods my body with the hormones I was craving, and I go boneless, sagging to the floor as Garret fucks me harder, chasing his own release.
“Give me another, Roar,” he growls against my hair.
I can’t, I want to say, but the words don’t come out. And then it turns out I can, it turns out that his clever mechanic fingers know exactly how to play my clit, even after a long break.
And as he circles my still-throbbing nerve centre, I feel a deeper orgasm gathering like storm clouds, heavy and dark. Racing in on a rush of hot, late summer wind.
“Fucking come for me,” he grunts. “Need you to?—”
I sob his name, jerking my hips up to meet his long, deep, desperate final thrusts.
He loses control, rolling up and hard into me in a way that drives his piercings over a new spot inside, and I see an entire galaxy of stars.
“Fuck, yes,” he gasps. “I can feel you. That’s it. Squeeze me. Milk me. God damn.”
And then there’s stillness.
Neither of us move. We barely breathe. Deep inside me, he pulses, and have I ever felt that before? Has he ever taken up this much space inside me before?
“Shit,” he mutters.
Then, “Sorry.”
