“Does that feel good?” Forcing the words out, I distract myself from the warm suction with the movement of my thumb. I focus everything—every shred of my will—on the slow, circular motions against that sensitive little nub. I taste blood as her inner walls already start to flutter, a frantic, premature pulse around me. “You’re doing so fucking good, Penelope.”
My praise earns me another shiver, a full-body tremor that seems to decide something for her. In one slow, breathtaking slide, she presses completely down, taking me all at once. I am buried to the hilt, consumed by her, our bodies joined in a single, searing line of heat.
She sits against my thighs, her own shaking, and forces her eyes open to meet my gaze. The wonder there, the slight shock, unravels me. “Are you always this big?”
Fuck me.
The innocent, breathless question is the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard.
“Only for you.” Shaking my head, I thump it against the headrest and force my body to go utterly, completely still. The urge to buck my hips, to drive into her again and again until I’m mindless, is a powerful temptation. “I’ll swell even bigger at this rate.”
The truth of it is a visceral threat. I can feel the base of my cock thicken, the promise of my release already gathering, a need to fill this woman with my seed. I curl my toes, pressing them hard into the mattress until the arches of my feet cramp. The pain is a focal point, a tiny dam against a tidal wave of sensation.
“Move for me, Penelope,” I rasp, my voice rough with the strain of holding back. “Just… find what feels good.”
Hesitantly, she lifts herself, a slow, dragging ascent that wrings a groan from my chest. Then she sinks back down, a little less tentative this time. Her brow is furrowed in concentration, a student of her own pleasure. I watch her, my gaze tracing the flush spreading across her chest, the way her breasts rise and fall with her quickening breaths.
My free hand comes up to palm them, the weight perfect against my palm. She gasps as my thumb takes turns sweeping over her nipples, pebbled and tight. I pinch them gently, then with more pressure, and the resulting cry is one of pure delight. Her rhythm stutters, her internal muscles clenching around me like a fist.
“So fucking pretty,” I breathe, watching her come apart in my hands.
The concentration on her face melts away, replaced by dawning rapture. She’s losing herself in the motion, her hips finding a natural, instinctual rhythm. The slow, exploratory rocking motion becomes deeper, more confident rolls.
I can see it, the way she experiences the new form of pleasure. It’s a kind of drug that one can get addicted to. God, I hope she wants to chase this high often. I’ll give her my cock whenever she wants.
She’s chasing it now, chasing the pleasure high she can sense just out of reach. Her moans are soft at first, little punched-out sounds with every downward stroke.
“Judge…” she whimpers, her eyes screwed shut.
“Look at me,” I command, my voice guttural.
Her lashes flutter open, and she shows me all the need radiating beneath her gaze.
I grip her hips tighter, my fingers digging into her soft flesh, not to steer her, but to hold on.
She moves faster, her body taking over with each movement. The slapping of our skin fills the room, a wet sound that feeds my starving ears. Her moans grow louder, less contained. She tries to bite her lip to stifle the sounds.
“None of that,” I growl, giving her nipple a sharp, possessive tweak. “I want to hear you. Let me hear you.”
A broken sob escapes her. “Judge…Oh!Samuel.”
She’s the only person I’ll let speak my name. The only one I’ll let moan it in such a pleading manner.
“Samuel!” she cries again, her voice climbing, fracturing at the edges. “Samuel,Samuel!”
Over and over, my name is a litany on her tongue, a sacred chant as she chases her peak. I can feel it building in her, the tension coiling to a breaking point. Her movements become frantic, uncoordinated. Her inner walls begin to flutterwildly around me, a frantic, rhythmic pulse that milks my cock, demanding everything I have.
She cries out, a sharp, keen wail of pure ecstasy as her climax crashes over her. Her body seizes, back arching spectacularly, her head thrown back. She stills, frozen in a perfect, breathless tableau of release.
That’s all it takes. The dam breaks.
With a guttural roar I don’t even recognize as my own, I grip her hips and thrust upwards, once, twice, burying myself as deep as I can physically go. My own orgasm erupts, a blinding, white-hot nova that tears through me. I spill into her, pulse after vicious pulse, a seemingly endless flood that empties my mind and my soul. I come hard enough to make me dizzy, my vision spots, my entire body convulsing beneath hers.
For a long moment, there is nothing but the ragged sound of our breathing and the dizzying, aftershock humming through my veins. She collapses forward against my chest, a boneless, trembling weight.
I wrap my arms around her, holding her as the last tremors subside, my heart hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to escape. I press a kiss to her sweat-damp hair, the only part of me that can still move.
A few seconds pass before she’s gasping and jerking. “Oh no! Your body…”
