“Good,” was all he said as he slowly laid me out on the bed. I’d just told him I didn’t like being in a submissive position, but Neil was clearly used to something different. So before he could stretch out above me, I pushed him over until his shoulders hit the mattress. He gave me a look of surprise but didn’t have time to object before I was clambering on top of him. I peeled off my shirt as I straddled him, tossing it onto the floor. His stare turned hungry as he looked at my bare breasts and the tattoo right between them along my sternum.
He lifted a curious hand to stroke it and mapped the lines with his fingers.
“It’s a black butterfly,” I said, anticipating his question. “It symbolizes phobias, insecurities. Things we can’t control. Things we’ll never be free from.” I leaned down to pepper his jaw with kisses. He wasn’t fully relaxed; his head was still somewhere else. I began to move against him, stoking his desire. His breathing sped up, but he was still too controlled. He put his hands on my hips, and I couldn’t tell if it was a weak attempt to stop me or a silent request to keep going.
“I want you now…” I whispered, stopping for just a moment to slide his boxers down his legs and throw them off the bed.
When I was finally able to admire his nude body in full, it took my breath away.
I dazedly stroked his neck, his pectorals, and down his abs, my hungry eyes locked on the large cock standing tall between us. I panted as I glided my hand over him, making sure it wasn’t some sort of dream. His body reacted to my touch; the tip of his penis became moist, and his balls contracted, giving me a little burst of pleasure.
“Satisfied?” he murmured as he sat up to pull me against him. He stroked my back and then squeezed my ass, urging me to move. I couldn’t speak—for the first time, it was really hitting me what was about to happen, and the brief flicker of insecurity made me falter.
I would have preferred a little foreplay to cut the tension, but Neil apparently didn’t like to waste time. He bent his head over my breasts and gentlybit my nipple before sucking it to soothe the burn as I arched into him. He was aggressive, wild. He wasn’t going to stop.
I had started this, and now he was making it clear to me that there was no backing down.
And I longed for it. I had forgotten the euphoria that came with sharing this kind of intimacy with another person.
With him, I wasn’t thinking about Ryan. I wasn’t thinking about the torn and tattered little girl who lived in my memories.
I stopped thinking entirely the moment his tongue moved along the contours of my tattoo before circling languidly around my areola. I dug a hand into his hair and pressed him harder against my chest. He pushed my thong to one side until he could feel on his fingertips how aroused I was. I had never felt so engaged with a man; my body seemed to accept him without reservation.
Without revulsion, without nausea.
Pleasurable shivers ran down my spine as he slipped two fingers inside me and moved them with practiced wickedness. I squeezed my eyes shut and gave myself over to him, moaning weakly.
Then, he stopped touching me and took advantage of my sudden physical weakness to reverse our positions. I found myself with my back against the mattress and him above me, his hips slotted in between my thighs.
“I told you—”
“I’m not letting you be on top. You can dominate other guys, but not me.” The smell of his shower gel made me feel drunk, and for some reason it made me want to lick his warm, smooth skin.
I caressed his back, moving down to his rock-hard butt cheeks. I groaned in approval, and he smirked, kissing every inch of skin he could find. He started with my throat and moved down between my breasts before sinking all the way to my stomach. He brushed against my navel, and I waited impatiently for him to get to the out-of-control fire that was blazing just below, but instead he stopped. He held still, staring at the thong I was still wearing, and I had no idea what the hell he was thinking about.
I was fighting for my life while Neil seemed entirely too cool and rational.
“What’s going on?” I gasped out.
Was he seriously going to leave me frustrated, dying to feel his tongue in the place I needed it the most?
I let out a whine of disappointment, and Neil blinked rapidly before parting my knees and pulling my panties off with an angry growl.
He stared at me—stared at all of me—and I swallowed hard, a little embarrassed. I wasn’t the blushing kind, but the way he was looking at me was uncomfortable. There was conflict in his eyes, desire and anger as well.
All at once, his thoughtful expression vanished, and he lowered himself onto me.
I would have liked to feel his tongue between my thighs, but Neil made up for it by rubbing his tip against my clit in slow, intense movements.
Feeling him so big and hard against me was brain-scrambling.
“I don’t know if I can come,” he muttered into my ear, but I was too dazed to speak. His face was awe-inspiring; I couldn’t stop looking at it. His lips were wet, his eyes gleaming with want. I was ready, eager to welcome him inside. He could feel it, and as I grasped his hips, he bit down on my neck and plunged into me with one strong, hard thrust.
I screamed with all my might.
For a second, I was afraid my flesh had torn, and I let out a groan of commingled pain and pleasure. Unconsciously, I lifted my pelvis to make it easier for him to get deeper in. I had thought I was prepared for his size, but I absolutely was not. He filled me so completely, and I struggled for air.
Tensing up only would have made things more difficult, so I forced myself to relax against the mattress.
