It was strange, the things that occurred to her as she took him in hand. It was surprisingly heavy, the skin softer than her own. Every part of him was hard and scarred and callused, but not here. Not this sweet, intimate place. There was no give, which was fascinating. And there, at the tip, was a clear bead of fluid. She ran a thumb over it, then, eyes on his, lifted it to her mouth for a taste. Salty.
Her only warning before Luc took over was a groan, so desperate it clawed at her insides and made her nipples ache. Apparently, the time for exploration was past. In a frenzy, he grasped her hips and pulled her back above him, took hold of himself, and ran it up against that aching, soaked place in her body. He moved himself—hiscock—back down, up and down a few times, lighting her up with every glancing touch against that magical spot. He stroked himself to a glistening shine before notching tightly to her, his one hand squeezing, tight, tight, tight, his eyes flying to arrest against hers, waiting. On the edge.
“Wait,” he breathed, more to himself than to her. “Wait. Hold on. Condom.” His hand searched the sofa, sliding between the cushions and coming out with the foil square. He ripped it open, gripped himself, and pumped hard a couple of times before rolling the ring all the way on. “Okay. Now, you do it. Lift up, and I’ll…” He swallowed audibly. “You can take me inside.”
She glanced up at those words to catch him biting his lip, his eyes concentrated hard on that place where their bodies met, and steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder. Slowly, full of defiance and excitement but not an iota of fear, she lowered her body onto Luc’s.
An animal sound came straight from her chest as he pressed in, in. It felt dirty, but in the best possible way as his body worked its way into hers. There was no pain, though, no cringing hesitation, nothing even remotely resembling duty in this taking.And who’s taking whom anyway?she asked herself as she took him in, swallowed him up. There was a moment when the big, blunt crown of him caught at her opening, that she felt a hitch of something familiar—more of a stretching than pain. But one look at his eyes, so intent and so warm, brought her back to the here and the now, where desire reigned supreme. So she gave in to the pressure of his hand on her thigh and let her baser instincts guide her down, his body easing into hers, filling her and bringing her pleasure like nothing she’d ever felt.
His expression, though—good God, the man looked shocked and pained and suspended, mouth hanging open. His lips were ripe and as needy as her whole body, just begging for a kiss that she couldn’t give him, because she couldn’t move. She was stuck, impaled, waiting for the next tiny advance, the thick, thick reality of her body accepting another.
“Oh, Luc.” She shuddered as her bottom finally settled on the top of his thighs and their chests came together with a different sort of friction, the tingling of her tight nipples like sparks in her veins. Somehow, her insides tightened even further around him. He groaned, bent forward enough to put his teeth on the cord that connected the top of her shoulder to her neck and bit.
He moved, fingers tight on her bottom, lifting and drawing back down, every slide hitting something inside and forcing her tighter, tighter.
“I want,” she gasped, with no idea what the next words would be. None.
Only he seemed to get it, because he muttered, “Oui, c’est ça. Keep moving,” while one of his hands shifted forward, to the place where their bodies came together, and pressed that tiny, wonderful, sharp place.
She screamed,screamed, because the shock of it was electrifying.
Luc met her eyes, looking almost surprised, before concentrating on that place even more, his fingers agile.
“Fuck, Abby, I’ve got to come.”
She looked at his face, all flushed and drawn. “Come?” she asked, bleary-eyed.
“Climax. Orgasm.” The words emerged as quick, staccato shots. They felt perfect and dirty.
“When the…” She swallowed, not understanding any of it, just rolling her hips against his. The sofa beneath them squeaked with every bounce of their bodies, and even that sound made her hotter, weaker, closer to that…thing. “That thing when theprocreationhappens?”
Apparently that wasn’t right, because he huffed out a laugh, but the sound was more self-deprecating than insulting. She felt the vibration inside her.
“Oh, yes.Procreation.How to… I… Mycock… It spurts out fluid. In French, it’s calledjouir.Jouissancemeans…‘enjoyment’ or ‘pleasure.’”
“For me?” She didn’t even understand what she meant by that.
“Yes. Yes, you can do it, too.” He breathed through a particularly tight twist of her hips and worked his hand harder between their bodies. “Jouissance. Joy.”
“Oh,” she said as he hit her in that spot again. Pulling back, she watched him work at her, shocked by the visuals that she’d been missing for years. She was close enough to that climax to feel it approach, rumbling toward her fast and furious and inevitable.
“It’s coming,” she whispered, and he nodded.
“You feel so fucking good.” He looked down, concentrated on what his hand was doing. “You hear that?” he growled, and she did. The sloppy, wet smack of their joining was slightly mortifying and exceptionally arousing.
His fingers tweaked her again and again as they slipped and slid through her. She moved on him, less of an up and down and more an internal clenching as their bodies lost control and the want took over. As her climax arrived, bigger and stronger than anything she’d had to endure, she leaned in and put her lips to his, eating his moans and breaths and uncontrollable joy.
She reached it—that crest—pressing down onto him, his hips straining up to meet hers and tightening against her as she clamped him inside, mouth to mouth, forehead to forehead. Just as she blinked the first wave of pleasure away, the lights went out with a bang, leaving them in total silence and utter darkness. Abby tingled from her fingers to her toes as she sat out of breath, the two of them all alone in the world.
20
“Did we do that?” Abby asked. She was collapsed over him, warm and perfect.
“Make the power go out?” Luc smiled, his cock just starting to soften inside her. He didn’t want to pull out, didn’t want to leave her, but he’d have to.Just a little while longer.“Possibly. Probably,” he managed to say and tightened his arms around her.
She snuggled into him and sighed. At his spot beside the woodstove, Le Dog woofed lightly.
“Was that—”
