Then he kissed me. It was the sweetest kiss I’d ever tasted. I was shifted onto my back, my wrists in his hands, gently pressed to the mattress, the dim orange light casting shadows over the sheets, over us.
His lips moved to my jaw, my neck, tracing soft trails over skin that felt almost too sensitive to bear it.
“Leave your hands where they are.” His words were a demand, however gently they were said. He freed my wrists and lifted himself so he could push up my T-shirt – his T-shirt that I’d borrowed – exposing my breasts. My nipples were hard already, getting a very good idea as to where his mouth was heading to next, or hoped.
My wrists were once again pinned down, the grip never more than what I could escape from, underlining that I was the one in control here, really. Then his mouth was trailing down the centre of my chest, between my breasts. I hitched my hips up, wanting him where I needed his mouth most, needing more pressure, craving the touch of his tongue.
He licked at my skin, then nipped at the side of my breast, eliciting a moan that I felt rather than heard.
A chuckle vibrated through his chest and I felt wetness start to build between my legs, heating me up inside. His mouth found a nipple, teasing and sucking, his teeth nipping and making my words fall out jumbled and needy. I tried to press into him with my hips but he simply shifted himself so I had no chance of any relief. The other nipple received the same attention, his hands still there on my wrists, subjecting me to a sweet torture which I didn’t want to end.
He moved my hands from above my head to the sides of my body as his head traced further down, trailing kisses across my stomach, his tongue dipping into my bellybutton, making me laugh and squirm. I tried to move my legs, but he’d positioned himself so I had no leverage, I simply had to wait until he got to his chosen destination; which took too damn long.
Then he was there, licking and suckling, tonguing and tasting me as if I was his only source of nourishment. I heard moans and knew they were mine, my body strung out and ready for him to play, a violin and he was the musician.
He would bring me close to my release and then take me back, withholding my orgasm and there was fuck all I could do about it. He had total control which I was granting to him.
“I need to come.” I wasn’t sure how I found the words but they were somehow there, my body becoming wrecked with being so close and then edged away from tumbling down into a gluttony of pleasure.
He looked up at me, his mouth too busy to speak. His eyes were gleaming and heavy with lust and I wondered how close he was himself.
“Need to touch you.”
“No.” He removed his mouth and lifted himself up over me, finally releasing my hands. I was too dazed to be fully cognizant of what he was doing, my body craving orgasm so much my vision was blurred. I didn’t even grab his skin even though I now apparently had permission by the fact his hands no longer held my wrists.
And then he was inside me in one swift movement and I cried out as I immediately spasmed and my cunt clutched his cock, my body thrashing.
He kept up the pace, holding my hips almost roughly as he fucked me, a wicked smile and satisfied eyes focused solely on me. It felt as if he’d forgotten his own need, he was just purely intent on making me melt into a puddle of spentness.
“You need to come again.” His rhythm was incessant, driving into me.
I’d managed to hold onto him now, found some ability to control my own body. I could feel a tightening through my core and I knew another orgasm was on its way, but I wanted him there with me.
“How close are you?”
I saw the vulnerability in his eyes and knew he was hanging on there. “Your cunt is the best I’ve ever had. It makes me lose my mind. It’s fucking mine, you know that.”
It wasn’t a question because he showed me the answer with the way he pounded, almost painfully. He raised himself up and looked at my breasts, bouncing as he moved.
“Play with them.”
I wouldn’t have argued anyway. I moved my hands to them, finding hard nipples and squeezing them, watching Gabe watch me and seeing the lust on his face.
He slowed and grasped my hips harder, maybe hard enough to leave bruises and then I came, taking him with me, making him lose control as he ejaculated far inside me, hitting my clit with each small, deep thrust.
“Fuck.” He just about stopped himself from collapsing on me, resting on his forearms and then kissing me softly again. I moved into his arms and we shifted onto our sides.
I’d never been held so thoroughly. Or fucked, but that wasn’t the end of it with this man. He made me feel safe and cherished and lots of other things I didn’t need from a summer fling.
“You went in the sea to help me today.” The thought had been there but it was only now I realized the sum of his actions.
“I didn’t think. If I had, I’d have either been paralysed with fear or gone in.”
“You’re more than what you give credit for.”
“Anya, I couldn’t be there afterwards. I had to get to that room…”
I touched his face, stroked the stubble that was almost a beard. “Which is all understandable. Gabe, you still went into water to help. I get that after it was hard, but…” I kissed him and he responded as if he was tasting me like I was an addictive substance.
