“You won’t know until you finish.” He strokes my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Now crack on.”
I feel embarrassed to use my fingers. Not just because he’s watching but because after his touch, they feel inadequate. I crave the unexpectedness of his touch, the lack of control, giving myself over to his timing of my pleasure. Taking it back now makes me feel cheap, like being handed a participation trophy instead of the main prize.
“How did his go from you begging me to me begging you?” I grumble.
He presses his lips together to hide a smile. Unsuccessfully. “Oh, hun. I was never begging.”
The easy dismissal makes me furious, and I lean over the end of the bed, hooking over the treasure trove of toys he sent along with the gifted lingerie. I pick out the bright purple one with the vibrating finger replacement and check the buttons before lying back. I turn my face resolutely towards the wall, and nestle the slender tip into my folds, then switch it on.
Holy fuck.
Zach laughs at my expression as I jerk the toy free and stare at the rapidly vibrating tip. “Haven’t you used one before?”
I shake my head wordlessly, not bothering to explain the simple mathematics of income versus consumable pleasure.
He takes my chin in his hand, turning me to face him. “Do it again. I want to see you coming.”
With more respect, I reinsert the tip and start the vibrator. The sensations are too strong to go anywhere near my clit and I park it closer to my entrance instead. Even there, the motion is close to overwhelming and the orgasm I thought had slipped from my grasp is suddenly back on the scene, racing towards me at a pace. I close my eyes.
“Keep them open,” Zach says, digging his fingers into my chin. “Look at me.”
I stare into his eyes, the discomfort of being open and vulnerable soon overtaken with a rush of pleasure that starts at my centre and mounts into a tidal wave that smashes over every part of me, dragging me under with its brute force.
The toy falls from my numb fingers, my mind incapable of coordinating my muscles to press the button for it to stop. As the flow of sensation eases, Zach kisses me, thrusting me headlong into another wave.
He stops the vibrator and tosses it aside, hitching a thumb into his underwear and dragging it off, then bending to remove his socks as well.
When his fully naked body covers me, his cock digs into my belly, the tip wet and nudging against me with urgency.
“Changed my mind,” I whisper with an evil grin. “I’m getting off this ride.”
“Oh, you’re getting off, all right.” His finger strokes through my wetness, spreading me open.
“Can I touch you?” I whisper and at his nod, reach down to stroke his hard length. His entire body stills as my hands explore his girth. His rough breath in my ear. The skin is so silky and smooth to the touch, I lick my lips as I guide it to my entrance.
At his first thrust, I tense again, gasping. It’s so much bigger than his fingers, than anything I’ve felt before.
He pauses, waiting for me to catch my breath. I relax, push back against him, and with one more thrust, he’s inside me, deep inside, filling me. At the snap of pain, I wince, but it’s there and gone, lost in a cascade of new sensations that make my mind spin and my breath hitch.
When he pulls back, I cross my legs behind his back, drawing him inside me again. Deeper this time, though it doesn’t seem possible. The burn from his penetration is lost in the surge of heat that erupts at his entry.
“Fuck. You’re so tight.” He groans against my neck, pulling back to thrust forward again and again. The discomfort lessens with each pump of his hips, replaced with a new friction, different from his thumb against my clit, his fingers. Fuller. Better.
Zach pins my wrists above my head again, dipping his head to suck at my left nipple, then my right, teasing them with his teeth, then breaking away as his rhythm speeds.
I fall into a pace with him, pushing against him to draw him ever deeper inside. When I feel another orgasm mounting, I entwine my fingers with his, moaning as his mouth returns to my tits, arching my back, our bodies slapping against each other like rampant applause.
Then the delirium of my climax is on me. I convulse, crying out his name, pulling one hand loose to claw at the tangled sheets while the other clenches in his.
As though he was waiting, Zach pumps into me faster, impossibly urgent, moaning as he spasms and shoots his load deep inside me.
His hips thrust again, and again, then he crushes his mouth against mine and moans, the sounds vibrating down my throat. It feels so good, so right, so much more than anything I’ve ever done alone. His arms crush me in a hug, and I want to meld our bodies together, so we never have to be apart.
When he turns, dropping beside me so he doesn’t bury me, I whimper, snuggling into his side with desperate longing. I should pee. I need to. Instead, I try to fold myself into an origami shape that fits within the shelter of his arms.
“You should really get a lock for that window,” he says, lips curling with mischief. “I hate to think who might sneak in here at night and take advantage of you.”
“Feels more like I’m the one who took advantage,” I murmur back to him sleepily. My eyes devour the curve of his neck, loving how solid he looks. How strong.
