I don’t know what he’s doing, but fuck does it feel good. Too good. It’s been months since I’ve been touched with any sort of kindness. Even the last time I hooked up with Cole, it was hard and fast and dirty. Just enough to fuck out our frustrations.
“So soft,” he whispers. The way he’s touching me now feels… reverent. Like I’m some delicate thing to handle with care ashis fingers creep to the crease of my hip, brushing my hand still covering my underwear.
I should stop him.
I really, really should.
But I’m powerless to deny the way my body craves it.
So is he, if the rapid rise and fall of his chest is any indication.
Mine is, too.
With his other hand, he gently moves mine out of the way, letting out a ragged exhale at the sight. I let him pry apart my thighs until they fall to the side of the bed, leaving me completely exposed. Not once does he look away from where his fingers are gently rubbing the top of my slit through the thin fabric, trailing down to trace my entrance.
Inside. Inside. Inside.
He pulls it aside and taunts my entrance until a viciousneedto be filled makes me pant in desperation, and he swipes his finger through my wetness. But instead of delving deeper, he parts my pussy lips and traces the path to my swollen clit, and I gasp when he traps it between his two fingers and presses down in a maddeningly slow pace.
The eager, hungry part of me wants to demand what I need, demand that he fill me with those thick fingers until the burning stretch makes me forget my own name. But I don’t want to interrupt the sanctity of this stolen moment. Slowly, the pressure on my clit grows unbearable. I can’t resist moving my hips in time with each stroke as he coaxes the mounting pleasure coiling in my pelvis tighter and tighter.
It’s so fucking good.
So,sogood.
But it’s not enough. I’m still empty. And that—above everything else—feelswrong.
Inside. Inside. Inside. I don’t realize I’m chanting in hushed whispers until his fingers glide through my wetness and circlemy opening once more. Then finally—finally—his thick finger breaches my entrance. The stretch of it, ofhim, makes my hips rise from the bed, seeking to take him deeper. With his other hand over my pelvis, he pins me to the bed. Then the finger inside of me pushes deeper and curls upwards at the same time he presses down with his palm.
I cover my mouth, stifling a moan of sweet agony as he torments my g-spot from the inside and outside. Another finger joins the first, and the increased stretch makes my pussy tighten and clench. This time, he’s reaching into the deepest part of me, brushing my cervix with his long fingers. I jolt at the sensation, but that only seems to encourage him when he curls his fingers on the way out to rub my swollen g-spot, back and forth.
Through it all, he keeps staring at where we’re joined, as if nothing else exists beyond the sight of my dripping pussy swallowing his fingers.
Can’t say I disagree. I canhearhow wet I am, feel my arousal dripping down my ass. Pressure begins to crest, and he must feel me tightening around him because he begins to pump in and out of my slick heat faster, harder, deeper, with the single-minded goal of pushing me over the edge.
His muscular arms flex as his thrusts grow more frenzied, and I can feel his hardness grind against my hip. The evidence of his desperation is what finally brings me to the precipice of pain and pleasure. With my other hand, I grab the arm pinning me to the bed—a prayer to end my anguish even as he ruins me.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper. “There. There there there don’t—fuck. Oh God. Thane, please,” I choke out as the exquisite burn mounts higher and higher until it feels like he’s wrenching the orgasm from my body by sheer force of will. Heat blooms as my pussy pulses, trying to keep him inside and sate the aching need to stay filled. His low groan makes my skin warm even further as unbidden images play in my mind: him thrusting into my bodyfrantically, desperately, filling me over and over again until our cum leaks from where we’re joined. The thought of it almost makes me come again, despite the gentling of his fingers.
His blue eye is still gleaming when he pulls out completely and brings his fingers to his mouth, licking and sucking off my cum.
The haze of pleasure fades as I watch him.
What… thefuck?
What just happened?
“Thane?” My whisper finally draws his attention from his fingers where my cum still drips down his hand. His blue eye no longer gleams.
I see the moment he realizes what we just did. Where we are. His eyes widen and he stumbles back, knocking down a tray of tools behind him.
And then he runs away. Leaving me in a cold, dark, empty room with shredded clothes, and a hollow pit in my chest.
19
ROTH
Ancus Drystan
