I needed him to touch me everywhere.
I wanted him to leave.
He pushed my panties to the side and teased my entrance with the tip of his fingers, his breath catching. “So wet,” he hummed like the prideful snake he was. “Just for me.”
I tried to rock my hips forward, terrified of the outcome, craving more. Nothing mattered. Nothing in the world, in the universe, mattered right now. I couldn’t think beyond his fingers, his air. I couldn’t breathe. The only thing that existed in this world was him.
I put all my weight on my wrist and where my legs wrapped around his to lift myself up and slide forward, his hot breath coating me, my skin, my soul.
His grip tightened around my wrist. “Open your eyes.”
I hadn’t realized I had closed them.
I did as he wanted, finding him staring at me, his eyes more silver than blue today, his pupils so blown, it looked like I was staring into a lunar eclipse. That’s what he was, my eclipse.
He slid his finger into me easily, my mouth going slack as I tried to move myself closer. I angled my head, not wanting tobreak contact but wanting more than anything to just taste him. Just a little taste.
But he kept his mouth away from mine. Within distance, but never touching.
I whimpered as he pulled his finger out and slid two in. I wasn’t even saying words, just desperate noises. My body was warm everywhere, electric where he touched, vibrating.
He slid them all the way to his knuckles, and I groaned, rocking my hips towards him, wincing at the pain as my bare ass scraped against the stone again.
He pulled them out and added a third, moving his hand faster, his grip tightening as he held me in place, uncaring that my legs were wrapped tightly around his, uncaring that the noises I was making were far from cute, uncaring of anything.
Desperation filled his eyes and then heat, rage, lust. “You feel so fucking good,” he said in this low, animalistic whine. His hand worked faster, hitting that spot inside of me that sent electric shocks coursing down my spine, across my bones.
I groaned, my eyes filling as he pounded into me, that feeling starting to fill me again, consume me. “Stop,” I pleaded, my hips rocking forward, my nipples aching for pressure.
“It’s an orgasm, little writer, and you’ve been denying yourself far too long.”
I’ve had orgasms before, this wasn’t it. “Please,” I whimpered, trying to force the feeling to go away, trying to think of anything other than how his fingers felt inside of me, how his air filled my lungs, how the scent of him flooded through me.
But he was all-consuming.
“Feel it, Olivia,” he ordered, his eyes flaming, flicking between mine and my mouth. “Feelit.”
I moaned, grinding my hips with every slam of his hand. God, it felt so good. It felt like fucking nirvana. I couldn’t keep swallowing my moans as he kept finger-fucking me. Fucking melike he was punishing me. Like he was trying to fuck the bad right out of me.
Fuck, if this was how his fingers felt, what would his cock feel like?
“That’s it,” he purred, his voice a raspy moan. “That’s it, baby. Take it like the whore you are. You little slut, feel it, fucking feel—” He slammed his lips against mine, the heat coursing through me as his tongue found mine.
I groaned, feeling the way he kissed me as if he were a starving man desperate for a morsal of food. His tongue worked against mine, his lips hot and heavy, his fingers working inside of me, my head spinning like a cyclone of electric emotions.
I moaned into his mouth, shoving my hips forward, feeling that intense feeling build in the pit of my stomach, vibrate through me like a twister tearing through a town.
Building.
Building.
And then—
I cried out, ripping my lips from his, my body tightening around his, around his fingers, as the feeling shook through me in unfamiliar, overwhelming waves. “Fuck,” I whimpered, tears burning my eyes. “Fuck,” I whined, my heart racing.
I panted, unable to catch my breath with this collar around my neck. That wasn’t normal. That couldn’t be normal. Even if it were possible, that was once in a lifetime kind of thing, it wasn’t supposed to be like this every time. Not ever.
His eyes found mine, searching, black and unreadable, and he slowly pulled his fingers out, his own breathing slightly labored.
