“I don’t give a shit what everyone else says. You’re my fantasy, Andrea,” he utters, making my heart clutch and my mind run wild. “Even if I tried, I couldn’t mold you to be more to my liking.”
“Really?”
“Yes. A hundred times, yes. It’s as if your body was made for my hands, my eyes, my lips, my cock… You’re Aphrodite, Venus, Persephone… Hundreds of artists have paid homage to your shape for thousands of years. And I don’t have their talent, but I’ll sure as hell spend the rest of my life worshipping it the best I can.”
I’m tongue-tied. It was all in my head. I need to stop doing this. I need to stop spiraling in my own thoughts. I create nonexistent problems, assuming wrong, filling my mind with poisonous ideas.
We’re the only ones who matter. My body doesn’t have to fit anyone’s standards but ours. And in his eyes, I’m perfect. Not because love distorts his perception of me, but because I’m his exact taste.
The realization triggers my orgasm, so I shatter in his arms while whimpering his name. He holds me against him as I tremble, his hands leisurely prolonging the pleasure.
Once it has passed, he kisses my temple and meets my eyes in the mirror. “Now, my pretty dork, I’m going to order you some Burger King, and you will eat it.”
“Didn’t you say that was garbage?”
“I did, but you love eating that, like the proper raccoon that you are. Before we get there, though, I’m going to fuck you, Andrea.”
My eyes widen, a shocked shiver spreading through me. Did he just say—
I’m off the floor before I can understand what’s happening, and he takes me to a bench by a rack of weights. I’m still stunned as he lays me onto it. Is this really happening? After almost two weeks without slex, are we really about to do it?
Lex shucks his boxer briefs, his obscenely hard cock springing out of them. Then he spreads my legs and straddles the bench between them. I’m frozen, worried I’ll scare him off if I say anything. So I lie there, looking at him and arching my back in invitation.
But he hesitates, looking down at me, conflicted. “You won’t hurt me, baby,” I promise, running my hands over his muscular torso. “Please, trust me. I need you…”
His frown betrays his doubts when I guide his tip to my opening. I slide him against me, torturing myself as much as I’m torturing him. “Look at how wet I am. You couldn’t hurt me even if you tried.” A raw and dangerous vibration rolls in his chest.
Very slowly, he thrusts in, his plump head slipping right into my greedy and drenched slit. “Fuck,” he groans. “I almost forgot how warm you are.”
More of him disappears into me, and shit, he feels so fucking good… Worried he might interpret my moan of pleasure as a whimper of pain, I swallow it back, biting my lower lip hard.
He’s slow and careful all the way to the end of me, and then he stays there, buried to the hilt in my soaked pussy. “Are you alright?” he asks softly. “Is it the plug making you feel this tight, or are you—”
“It’s the plug, I promise. I’m very, very ready for you, baby. And you feel so good,” I breathe out, wanting to reassure and soothe him.
“You too, my love.”
He pulls halfway out of me and thrusts back in. This time, I can’t control the strangled moan that rips out of me. It’s as if the toy in my ass forces his cock precisely where it feels the best. His gray eyes meet mine, and the worry in them saddens me.
“You aren’t hurting me,” I promise, pulling him by the nape to kiss him.
Our exchange is romantic and soft, and it gives him the confidence to finally move. He pulls in and out of me with slow motions, keeping it gentle. There’s no more talking for a long while, only our sweet and careful lovemaking. It’s impossible to say how long we remain like this, but I’m certain the honeycomb pattern of the bench is imprinted on my back.
It feels so good to have him make love to me. And not only physically, but because it’s a big leap toward healing since that awful night. He’s returning to the man he used to be, reclaiming the control of his desires, relearning to trust himself with my body. He still isn’t entirely confident, his pace measured and reasonable. Some part of him is still scared he’ll hurt me again, so he keeps it tender and safe.
“Lex, I need you to go harder,” I beg. This is very enjoyable, but I’ll need ages to come like this—even with the plug.
Unhurriedly, his momentum increases, his shoves growing harder and faster. It’s incredible to have him in charge. I missed this. Missed my beautiful man leading the way and bringing us both to pleasure.
Every time I look away, I find us in one of the mirrors, the reflection so erotic it has me dripping even more. I see him fucking me, I see his passion, his love for me. And I see myself, trapped underneath him, and those flaws I hate so much. Like the bumps of cellulite on my outer thighs, particularly visible when I’m spread like this. Or the way my breasts flatten and almost disappear. But none of that comes in the way of Lex’s adoration for me. Those genuinely do not matter to him.
“You feel so good, baby,” I moan, wanting to encourage him to give more even though we’re both panting and overheated. I whisper sweet praises into his ear, moan dirty promises, whimper scandalous demands… My body jolts with every one of his adamant thrusts, and angled like I am, it moves the plug inside me every time, mimicking penetration. It drives me mad, making me wish there was more there, making me desperate to know what he’d feel like, drilling into the tight hole like he’s doing in my pussy.
“I can’t wait to feel you in my ass,” I impulsively moan, his harsh pace and deep shoves maddeningly good. “I bet you’d feel so good, baby, stretching me with your thick cock.”
His hips buck into me helplessly, his dangerous groan echoing in the room. “Fuck, Andrea… How do you do this?” he asks with awe, granting me long and deep thrusts.
“Do what?”
