All at once.
The stretch is intense. Almost too much. I gasp and his hand covers my mouth, muffling the sound against my thin walls because apparently he’s thinking about my neighbors even while he’s currently inside me.
“Shh,” he murmurs against my ear.
Then starts moving.
Oh.
This is—
I arch into him.
“Good girl,” he breathes. “Just like that.”
The praise sends another shock of heat through me. I’ve never been particularly into dirty talk but apparently my body didn’t get that memo because those two words make me clench around him so hard he groans.
“Fuck, Bree,” he moans. “Do that again.”
I don’t even know what I did but I try anyway, and he rewards me by shifting his angle and hitting something inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
“There?” he asks, doing it again.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I mutter. “God, yes! Don’t stop!”
“Not planning on it.”
He’s relentless. Driving into me with a focused intensity that suggests he’s got a goal in mind and he’s not stopping until he reaches it. My second orgasm builds fast, cresting before I can catch my breath, and I’m biting my own lip now to keep from screaming.
He’s still pounding me, but he pauses as he feels me shuddering repeatedly beneath him.
His lips curl into a dark grin and he presses his mouth against my neck.
“That’s two,” he says against my throat. “Give me one more.”
One more. He wants one more. I don’t think I—
He starts pounding again, building me up. I can’t think. Can’t move. My back arches involuntarily.
Yes—
Yes—
Yes—
His hand slides between us, finding exactly the right spot, and apparently I can.
The third one breaks me apart. I’m shaking andsobbing and clutching at his shoulders like he’s the only solid thing in the universe. My pussy clenches violently around his cock, trying to milk it for everything it’s worth.
His relentless rhythm falters as his control finally slips. He buries his face in my neck and cums with a low groan that I feel vibrate throughout my chest. Then he collapses on top of me.
We stay like that for a long moment. Both breathing hard. Both trembling slightly. Both trying to process what the hell just happened.
Finally he rolls off me, disposes of the condom in the trash can next to my bed, and pulls me against his side.
We lie there in silence. My hand on his chest. His fingers tracing lazy patterns on my shoulder.
“So,” I say eventually. “So much forusing the bathroom, huh?”
