“Perfect.” His voice is practically a purr, and he’s looking at me with this weird kind of warmth I’ve never seen before. “You’re doing so well for me.” He moves his free hand down my body, stopping briefly to pinch my nipple and rub at it gently,which also makes me fucking gasp with a sensation I’ve never experienced. “Such a good boy, Tadhg.”
His words are surrounding me, filling me with just as much hazy pleasure as the way his gentle finger-fucking is lighting up my insides.
Micah leans down to cover me with his body, bracing himself on his other arm and finally slipping a third finger inside of me. I spread my legs as wide as I can and grab at his waist, trying to hold him as close to me as possible. To get him inside of me.
I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t know when everything changed. But if I let my brain shut down and just feel—the way he wants me to—then it all makes a lot more sense.
I’m making the most humiliating noises that have ever come out of my mouth, breathy and desperate, choked out in time with him fucking his fingers into me, but I can’t help it. And every time he touches that spot, my whole body quivers.
Micah is breathing as heavily as I am, and he’s grinding his hips down over where his hand breaches me, holding me so close that to someone else it would look like he was actually fucking me.
“You’re so good,” he whispers in my ear. “So perfect. Just like this, spread out underneath me, getting fucked. A perfect fucking pussy.”
The words hit me in the same spot as his fingers, and I feel my dick throb, desperate for release. Micah just keeps pumping into me at the same pace, though. He licks a long stripe up my neck before he continues to whisper the same things in my ear over and over again.
Gorgeous.
So fucking sensitive.
I knew you would be.
I knew you needed this.
My perfect doll.
I’ll never make you fuck anybody ever again, you were meant to spread your legs for me.
Such a perfect little cunt.
My breath hitches, and everything in my body tightens. I need release more than I need fucking oxygen.
“Bambi,” I say on an exhale, my voice barely-there but still so desperate. “Bambi, please.”
He kisses me again, grinding his hips against me at the same time like before, my aching dick rubbing against his stomach where his shirt has rucked up.
Micah breaks the kiss but doesn’t move his mouth away, so close that his lips brush mine when he speaks, his forehead resting against mine.
“You can do it, doll,” he says, his hand moving faster as he fucks into me, still managing to hit that same spot over and over until white-out pleasure is threatening to burn through me. “Come for me. Be a good girl and come for me.”
My body clenches around his hand, trapping him inside me, as I finally pull an orgasm from somewhere deep, deep inside me. It seems to hit me in slow motion, taking a lifetime to crest, but when it finally does, I can’t even breathe. I think I can feel my cock pulsing cum over my bare stomach, but I don’t care. The full-body sensation gripping me is so muchmorethan whatever shitty, anxiety-ridden climax I’ve clawed my way to before.
It also takes forever to ebb. Like the tide going out, it seems to tug and flow out of my body a little at a time. I’m strung bow-tight, still clenching around Micah’s fingers and gripping onto his sweaty, stretched-out t-shirt for dear life for what feels like hours. It’s probably only seconds, but who cares.
My world just lurched off its axis.
When the last of the pleasure finally spills out of my body, I let out a trembling exhale and force my muscles to relax. Micah is watching me with a smile that I could only describe asproud,even though that seems weird in this context, and still holding me close.
I hiss when he slides his fingers out of me and have a brief moment of panic at the weird, dysfunctional emptiness it leaves behind. But then I shake it away and focus on the warmth in his gaze.
“Look at you,” he says, with a weird hitch to his voice.
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I can form words now, anyway. Instead, a mewling noise slips out of me. His eyebrows raise, but then he chuckles.
He’s careful to keep one hand rubbing gently up and down my flank while he leans away and clumsily wipes his fingers on a wet wipe he pulled from somewhere. As if I need a point of contact with him or I might float away.
Or maybe he needs the point of contact. I don’t know. I’m buzzing too much right now to care.
Then he leans back over me and kisses me with the same hunger as before.
