"Don't you dare come yet," I order, even though I'm barely holding it together myself. "Not until I say."
The command seems to ground him. His hips pull back, then push forward in an experimental thrust that has us both gasping. He finds a rhythm—slow, careful, like he's afraid of breaking me—and I let him set the pace even though I want him to fuck me harder.
This is his first time. I'm not going to rush it.
"You feel incredible," I tell him, my hands sliding up his back.
He makes that broken sound again, his hips stuttering. The praise is affecting him, making him lose that careful control. Good. I want him wild. Want him to forget everything except how good this feels.
"Harder," I breathe against his ear. "You won't hurt me. I promise."
He obeys, his thrusts getting deeper, faster. The angle hits something inside me that makes my vision white out again. I'm going to come again, can feel it building already.
His breathing's ragged through the mask, his massive hands gripping my hips with bruising force that I'm going to feel tomorrow. Good. I want the reminder. Want to look at those marks and remember this moment when everything finally made sense.
"That's it," I gasp, my nails raking down his back hard enough to leave marks of my own. "Don't hold back."
He doesn't. Each thrust hits that perfect spot inside me that makes my toes curl. My second orgasm hits without warning, and I hope the campus is as dead as it should be at this hour, because I can't hold back the scream that escapes my lips. I clench around him so hard he actually moans and my whole body arches off the ground as pleasure erases every thought exceptmore.
"Tank," I cry out, beyond giving a shit if anyone hears. "Fuck, Tank, I'm?—"
He fucks me through it, his hips never stopping even as my pussy spasms around him. The overstimulation borders onpainful but I don't want him to stop. Don't want this to end. Don't want to go back to reality where he won't look at me and I'm just a captive princess in a pink room.
Then he freezes.
His whole body goes rigid, cock buried to the hilt inside me, and his hand scrambles to sign.Should I—He pulls back slightly, panic clear in his eyes.Should I pull out?
"What?" My brain's still foggy from the orgasm, struggling to process. "No, don't stop?—"
I could—His signs are frantic now.Get you?—
Oh. Oh fuck, he thinks he's going to get me pregnant.
"I have an IUD," I say quickly, pulling him back down against me. "It's fine. You can finish inside me."
He blinks, confused.
Right. Tank definitely doesn't know what the fuck that is. Why would he?
"It's birth control," I explain, keeping my voice gentle even though my pussy's still clenching around him and I'm desperate for him to move again. "I can't get pregnant. So you can come inside me. It's safe."
Understanding floods his expression, followed immediately by relief and something darker. Possessive. The idea that he can claim me completely, mark me from the inside, clearly appeals to some primal part of him as much as it does me.
And fuck, I want this. I want his come inside me, filling me up even more when it already feels like I'm stretched impossibly.
His hips start moving again, slower now but deeper. Each thrust makes me gasp, my oversensitive nerves lighting up like fireworks. He's chasing his release with single-minded focus, and watching him lose himself in pleasure is almost as good as coming myself.
His rhythm breaks, becomes erratic. And then he's coming. Hot and thick, flooding me with enough come that I can feel it leaking out around his cock with each thrust. He buries his face against my neck, his whole body shaking with the force of his orgasm, and I hold him through it, my nails scraping the massive muscles of his shoulders and upper back.
"Tank," I breathe, my arms wrapped around his neck, my fingers carding through his dark hair. "Fuck, yes, Tank. Inside me. All of you."
The muffled sound he makes is pure satisfaction.
We stay like that for a while, him collapsed on top of me, his cock softening inside me as we both catch our breath. The weight of him is perfect.
Finally, he rolls to the side, pulling me with him so we're facing each other in the grass. I feel the loss of him as come trickles down my thighs and realize I'm going to be limping back to my car. His hand finds mine, fingers interlacing.
Thank you,he signs with his free hand, those dark eyes gazing into mine with wonder and adoration.
