Yet somehow it wasn’t like that at all.
It was closer to being stroked into bliss. She thought of the way his mouth always felt against her skin and the smooth slide of his hand over hip, andthatwas how it felt. Like all those things, all those sweet and tender things...only better. There was an edge to this that she couldn’t deny—a feeling of being filled, of having him spread her open with that gorgeous cock.
And every time she thought of that fact she climbed a little higher. She got a little hotter, gasped a little louder. By the time he’d gotten around to moving she was panting his name. She was saying words likemoreandyes, even though she didn’t really know what that would mean.
Not until he started rolling those hips—sort of steady at first but then less so. Soon he was practically shuddering on top of her, unable to keep any kind of real rhythm. It didn’t matter, however. His jerky, erratic thrusts were just as glorious as that glide at the beginning, only in a slightly different way. The slow back-and-forth into her body had been an awakening, there to prepare her for what was to come.
Whereas this...this was raw and real. It didn’t patiently explain anything, or merely hint at pleasures to come. It gave it to her hard, in guttural, grunted words. Some of them he even said out loud—and that was definitely the best part. “Yeah take it, take it,” he told her, in a voice that didn’t belong to him.
Though she hoped he had a good relationship with whoever had loaned it out. She didn’t think she’d ever stop wanting to hear him say those words, in that tone. So gruff and greedy, she thought, but then that was the way everything was getting now. He wasn’t just losing a bit of his control. He was losing alot.
His whole body seemed to have tensed into one bunched muscle, all hard and slick and sort of golden in the low light. And though he was clearly trying to hold back, he wasn’t quite managing it anymore. Each little thrust turned into something much firmer, until finally she had to say something.
“Oh yeah, just like that,” she said, because seriously. Seriously, why was he trying to go slower and softer when it felt so much better to do the opposite? Every time he pounded into her that thick cock seemed to hit some amazing target. And when it did, the pleasure was pretty impossible. Low pulses seemed to thunder through her body, getting stronger and stronger with each hard stroke.
It didn’t take long for her to start to lose it too. She was already shivery with arousal and near beside herself. Mouth all filled with filthy words and hands like claws on his shoulders. Once he really went at her it was game over. Those claws became a kind of helpless clinging to him. She had to mush her face into his throat as the pleasure took over her vocal cords.
“God, fuck me, please fuck me,” she panted, only it sounded like something else when she did. It had this weird sobbing note of helplessness to it, as though he was driving her to a place she didn’t want to go. She was certain she didn’t want to go to it.
Until he took her there.
He pressed his face to the side of hers, breath coming out of him in one glorious gasp. Body practically bucking, fingers in her hair...and that was it. Her orgasm burst through her, hard enough to make her do all kinds of crazy things. Somehow her hands were trying to pull out his hair. She could feel her pussy almost sort of clenching around him—which only made everything worse.
Now his cock seemed twice its usual size, despite already being as big as the Empire State Building. All she could feel was the thick weight of that hard length, as her body tried to shudder and spasm around it. And somehow, the more that happened the greater the intensity. The higher and brighter the pleasure, all of it building to some impossible crescendo that she just couldn’t take.
It made her wonder what she’d been doing all these years, with just a vague little finger stroking over this and that. Everything was so much better like this—in every way conceivable. There was the feel of him inside her, and this all-consuming orgasm. But then she had his arms to contend with, as they held her so tight to his body. And the hand he touched to her face, when they were done.
How had she ever done without that hand on her face?
More to the point...how was she ever going to do without it?
Chapter Eleven
She didn’t mean to wake him. She had just wanted to have a little look at him before any of this melted away again, and somehow that had turned into weird things like touching his ears and tracing the shapes of his tattoos and now he was staring at her from underneath hooded eyelids.
She could feel him staring before she glanced up to double check. His gaze was practically burning a hole through her body. Or was that just the embarrassment? It sure seemed like the latter once she saw him and realized what she’d been doing. In the strange silence of three in the morning with him fast asleep, it had kind of seemed as though she was just solidifying him in her mind. She was just making sure he was real and not going anywhere.
But now that his eyes were on her, half-amused and half something else that sort of made her shiver, it was a different story altogether. Her hand on him wasn’t something innocent and curious. She wasn’t simply memorizing parts of him. She was practically fondling him. She wasfondling him.
That seemed really bad. People definitely weren’t supposed to do that.
Though if his reaction was anything to go by she was wrong on that score. The second he registered what she was doing his hand went into her hair. And she didn’t think it was there to push her away. It seemed encouraging, in fact. Kind of like he was leading her toward certain things—like the curve of his erect cock not five inches from her parted lips.
She didn’t mind obliging. Even if that wasn’t what he wanted, she didn’t mind. They had passed that point completely now—the one where they were unsure what the other person might want and not quite daring enough to do things. She knew they were, and it shifted things. Suddenly she could look at him as she poked out her tongue to lick the tip of his dick.
And he could say yes. He could tell her more. He could offer the same thing in return without asking. She felt pretty sure that this was how they wound up tangled together on the bed, licking and sucking at various parts of each other. She took his cock in her mouth and he made these glorious, long swipes over her spread pussy and nothing was weird. Nothing was wrong.
Instead it all seemed like a delirious dream of everything sex could possibly be. She’d always wondered how frantic lust would feel, and this was it in glorious Technicolor. She wanted to bite, so she bit, she wanted to moan, so she moaned, and when really filthy words rose up in her throat she said them.
“Lick my clit,” she told him. “Oh yes, lick it just like that.”
Only it wasn’t in a voice she’d ever heard before. It was breathy and desperate and so horny. Christ, she had no idea she could be this horny—and better yet, he sounded the same. He wanted her to suck harder and press against him more firmly.
“Rub yourself all over my face,” he said, and so she did. She did without thinking twice about it. She opened her legs wider and rocked her hips, and when that wasn’t enough she used her hand. She spread her slippery lips with two urgent fingers, wanting more, wanting him to lick at her faster and more deeply—anything, just anything to get more of this sensation.
It was just like the first time, almost too intense to bear. The buzz of it seemed to set her teeth on edge and dim the world around its edges, but somehow she couldn’t get enough. Her orgasm rose and fell through her body like a tidal wave, and still she wanted to swim through this glorious ocean. He flooded her mouth with his come, and still, and still.
Her first words to him when her breathing calmed enough to speak and he gathered himself enough to sit up weremore please.
