He swats me again. “Ride me. Come hard on my cock again, and I’ll happily make this gorgeous pussy sorer than it’s ever been.”
I lift and lower on his cock. We both moan. So I do it again. And again.
Alex makes me do my share of the work. He encourages me, though, with lots of dirty words and with his hands on my breasts and nipples, on my ass, on my clit, and then sitting up and resting a big, hot, possessive hand on the front of my throat as my climax starts building.
“Goddammit, Wildflower, how am I supposed to ever survive without this pussy?” he growls in my ear as I ride him faster, grinding my clit against him on every down thrust.
“I…I…” I can’t form words.
“I’m going to jack off every damned night thinking of you,” he promises. His other hand presses against my lower back, making the thrusts even harder. “How am I supposed to kick this addiction?”
The idea of him thinking of me after this, of his hand around his cock and remembering all of this, winds my orgasm tight.
“I need you to come. I want to feel?—”
I come before he completes the sentence.
“God, Alex! Yes!Yes!”
I sag against him, my arms around his neck, resting my face against his throat.
But he doesn’t let me rest. He tips me back, pulls out, rolls me to my stomach, then pulls my hips back. “Hands and knees.”
I shift back, my arms shaky but willing to give him anything.
He strokes his big hand over my ass, then parts my ass cheeks. “Fuck. I’m fucking never getting over you.” He lowers his head, and I feel his tongue against my still tingling pussy.
“Alex.” I’msosensitive. I’ve come three times. I really don’t think I can come again.
He licks a few times, as if he simply needs to lap up as much as he can. Then he positions himself.
“Hold on, Nora,” he says gruffly.
I grip the duvet and press back.
He enters me with one long, hard thrust.
I cry out. I’m sore, but it feels amazing at the same time.
He stretches me, going deeper than anyone ever has. He pulls out and thrusts again, hard. And fast.
Hard and fast become the only words I can think of for the next few minutes.
Our bodies slap together. He only says single words at a time, and they’re dirty and gruff.
My entire world has narrowed to this man and our bodies.
I feel him grip my hips hard, and suddenly he roars my name as he stiffens.
“Nora!”
He comes hard, filling the condom, gripping my body tightly against his.
Then he just stays like that, breathing hard, holding me firmly.
Finally, what seems like five minutes later, he says, “Jesus Christ, Nora.”
He lets go of me, and I sag onto the mattress. But I smile and roll to my back. “What?”
