“One more,” he said, in the shuddering aftermath. But she wasn’t quite sure what he meant, because he got his wallet out as he said it. Fished out a rubber, worked it on.Think you’ll find this is going to be a little more for you, she thought,if you’re about to put that iron bar in my pussy. Because, surely, it seemed to her, he was going to come almost immediately when he did. He could hardly get himself sorted. His hands were shaking as he did it.
Hell, his whole body was.
Just juddering away, like he could hardly stand another second of this absolute torture. It even showed all over his face the moment he was over her, and easing into her. He rubbed the head through her slick folds, and his eyes stuttered closed. His breath came hot and shaky.
Then he started to work himself in, and fuck.
She had honestly never seen a man look anything like it.
His head seemed to toss first one way, and then the other, like the feeling was so intense he had to almost shake it off.
And sure, she could have believed it was the work he had to do to get in. He had to urge one of her legs up, hand tight underneath her thigh. Rub her there, back and forth, until her swollen-into-sweet-tightness cuntstarted to open for him. But she didn’t think it was any of that.
It was the intensity of it, quite plainly.
How close he was to coming.
And yet, somehow, he still didn’t go over. He still stuck to what he’d said—that this was one more for her.That’s like five to zero, she wanted to say to him, but the feel of that thick thing sinking in just stopped her mouth. She saw stars, came close to switching out those silly words for even sillier ones.
God, I love your cock, she thought mindlessly.
And then he was fucking her, and she forgot even that much. Because it had been good from behind, it had. The physical sensations had really been something. But somehow it was even better like this. More intense, with his whole body rubbing against hers. Arms bracketing around her head, almost like a heated kind of hug.
And his face was so close.
She could see the patterns in his beard. Gray lacing with brown, sometimes thinning out to near stubble, sometimes so lush it was almost a pelt. Those dark eyes close to hooded, heavy lidded, like he was on the verge of slipping into a thick, pleasurable sort of sleep.
Though it was his mouth she really saw.
Those parted lips. That lower one, so sulky.
It just had to be kissed. It seemed imperative that it should be. Almost a tease just there, above her, close enough that she could feel his harsh, panting breaths ghosting over her own.Go on, she urged herself.Go on, it’s just another part of this deliciousness.
And then she did.
One hand in his hair to draw him close to her. Mouth catching his, softly, softly, as her pleasure crested in one long, sweet pulse.
Though of course as soon as she had, she realized. They had never kissed before. Not in the woods, not in the elevator, not for any of the audiences. Not ever. They had frantically fucked each other, but somehow not got around to this. And now she’d crossed that line, without even knowing it was one.
It just seemed natural in the moment.
Then less so, when he reacted.
He went very still, very abruptly. And his eyes definitely widened. They went enormous, in fact. As if she had done something rude, somehow—so rude it almost stopped her in her tracks. She came close to pulling away, even as she shuddered through the remaining embers of her orgasm.
Then she felt what was happening to him.
He wasn’t just still. He had gone completely rigid. His whole body was a wire, drawn taut. It almost made her think of someone struck by horror, in a movie about something horrible being in your room. But then she saw the way his hand reflexively made a fist in the pillow, the way he tried to shove almost all of himself inside her.
And thesoundthat came out of him.
It was almost beast-like. A guttural grunt, punched out of him and into her—only not a short sort of thing. Not truncated. No, no, no, this was long and drawn out and so utterly thrilling that she couldn’t deny what it was.
He was coming. Somehow she’d kissed him and made him come.
Like some kind of bizarre, extremely sexual version of Sleeping Beauty.
Only without the actual happy ending. Because he didnotseem happy in the aftermath. Thoroughly pleasured and thoroughly fucked, but not happy. The hand that took hers was shaking. And he used it to slide hers out and away from his hair. Like that had been a bad thing, too. Something forbidden.
