Her hand closes on top of mine and I flick it off, twisting her around, my fingers undoing her buttons, stripping her shirt halfway down her back, flipping up her bra and using my weight to force her hard against the bench, gasping as her bare breasts press against the cold wood.
My knee pushes her legs apart, the waistband of her underwear stopping them from going further.
The pulse in her neck jumps against my fingers as I release my cock, spreading her lips and seating myself just inside, bending over her as she begins crying in earnest, the tears splashing onto the bench, instantly darkening the stained wood.
“That’s my girl,” I growl right in her ear, enjoying the shiver that runs across her skin, dancing between her shoulder blades. “If you want me to fill you up and ease that ache, then cry for me.”
And she does, dissolving into tears and whimpers, the shake of her shoulders whiting out my mind until there’s nothing there but ecstasy, nothing but the release of endorphins and the pulse of blood in my ears and my temples and my cock. Nothing but the slippery wetness of her cunt, inviting me deeper but not yet, not until I hear one more word.
“Are you going to let me fuck you while you cry? Is that what you want? My cock buried deep inside you while your chest shakes with every sob?”
Another flood of tears greets my questions, falling so rapidly now they form a puddle on the bench, each new drop splashing into its older siblings, the sound delicate and so fucking perfect I’m on the verge of sobbing myself.
“Say yes, baby.” I tilt my hips, driving myself another half inch inside her. “Give me a yes or I’ll have to take this hard cock away from you and leave your sopping wet pussy empty.”
“Yes,” she murmurs, and it’s barely audible.
“I can’t hear you, baby. You want me, you’ll have to do better.” She shakes her head and I tighten my grip on her throat. “I’m a fucking royal and when I ask you if you want it, you’re meant to scream your answer.”
“Yes,” she shouts, voice straining until the tendons tighten into cords under my hand. She slaps behind her, swatting me like she’s swatting a puppy. “Fucking yes.”
And I thrust all the way inside, plunging into her so hard her torso jumps across the bench, her feet lifting from the floor. Her hands brace on the wood, pushing back against me so with the next pump of my hips I go even deeper, encased on every side by her warm wet pulsing flesh, the muscles gripping me, clenching me in a rhythmic motion that sends bolts of pleasure rocking through my head.
“Your pretty, pretty hair is too fucking short,” I mutter, trying to grab hold of it while the strands keep slipping through my fingers. “Do you want to grow it for me, give me something to hold on to?”
She hums, the sound becoming staccato with each new thrust of my hips. I release her throat, placing one hand on her hip, reaching underneath with the other to feel her cunt lips stretching around my cock.
It’s so good, I pause, resting my forehead halfway down her back, chuckling as she whimpers in protest, jerking her hips as though trying to jumpstart me back to work. “You make me insatiable. Everything about you feels so good.”
“I’d say the same, but you stopped working.”
“You can move too, you know.”
And Avon laughs softly, slapping the solid counter, her cheek resting where the puddle of tears has absorbed into the wood, staining it dark. “This is the best I can do when I’m wedged against a bench.”
She eases her arse back towards me and I take advantage, pulling my hand back, licking her sweet taste off my fingers, then wriggling it between her and the hard surface, spreading her while my middle tip rubs gently near her swollen clit.
Her hips bounce as I get too close, its sensitivity nearing pain and with the next sweep of my fingertip, I’m gentler. With each motion, I watch her more closely to make sure the only sensation I impart is of sweet pleasure.
Her muscles clench and unclench around me, tightening as I take her nearer and nearer, my finger making longer movements, following the full length of her folds, bumping against where we’re joined. I draw back to circle her clit, touching lightly, then pressing harder. Flattening my fingertip just beneath, feeling the flutter as she comes, the rush of air from her lungs as satisfying as the new flood of orgasmic tears.
I thrust again, slower to start this time, wanting to linger, wanting to experience everything we can give each other, easing forward until I’m fully seated inside her.
Then I take each of her hands and lift her torso back against me, stepping away from the bench as I crisscross her arms over her midriff, holding them in place with one of mine, the other free to cup her jaw, turning her face to the side.
As my pace increases, bringing me close to the same precipice, my lips seek hers, the angle awkward but possible until she pulls away, gasping, and my mouth fastens on the curve of her shoulder, sucking where I once left a mark.
My pumping hips pick up speed, my arm clamping around her harder until the world whites out with pleasure and my release shoots high inside her, the next thrust displacing it until I feel our combined fluids trickling between us, dripping down the inside of her thighs.
I hold her there for a moment, eyes closed, feeling her deep inhalations, skin tingling like static.
There’s a deep peace inside me. A satisfaction that even our previous couplings couldn’t bring. It’s agonising to slip free of her warmth but as I withdraw, I press a row of kisses to her shoulder. I gather her into my arms, annoyed by the pieces of fabric that are still between us. An annoyance I soon remedy as I carry her to the daybed, place her on the covers, and slowly kiss every inch of her skin until the entirety of her perfection is revealed.
And only then do I climb onto the bed behind her, curling her body against mine, feeling our heartbeats sync, listening to the small sighs of satisfaction as we slowly descend from the incredible high, ready to start again.
AVON
I lie on my back, lower limbs tangled with Zane’s, eyes wanting to close but each time they do, the urge to watch him dozing overrides the impulse, opening again so I can examine his face, peaceful in sleep.
