Dear God, please make him thick where it counts.
One hand anchored to my hip, he uses his other to turn my chin to him, capturing my mouth with his own, but there’s little satisfaction here as we nip and bite, each of us desperate to taste the other as Rory’s strong body almost envelopes mine. It feels wicked and decadent and oh so right, though I suppose I should be surprised it doesn’t feel weird being held by a stranger, being positioned as I am. Currently, I don’t have the wherewithal to give a fuck.
His long fingers pull my blouse from my shoulder, the action drawing my eyes to the mirror, and for the first time I see myself, rather than him. It’s a picture I’m unfamiliar with. My skirt is gathered around my waist, and a moment later, he has my aching nipples almost rimming the lacy cups of my bra. My hair is a mess, but my face, well, I don’t recognise that girl. Eyes heavy lidded though glittering, and even in the faint light, I can see my reflection is flushed, my mouth, completely bare of lipstick now, is still darkly pouty. Swollen. In short, I look well fucked.
Please let it be so.
‘Oh, please,’ I moan, breathing heavily. ‘Just, please.’
He swears, pulling back a little before slamming his wallet down against the wood and slipping out a condom. I can feel his hands working his belt and pants and then it all happens so quickly—my tiny panties are moved to the side, and then he’s there, sliding his length along me. Oh! Oh! Oh...
These are practised movements, his hardness gliding past my entrance and barely brushing my clit before sliding back again.
‘Do it already,’ I pant, this time biting back the please.
His eyes are reflected darkly, the faint lift of his lips almost obscured.
‘Are you givin’ out orders, titch?’
One more flex of his hips and he glides by again; part perfection, part torture. Beneath my skin is pure electricity, and I’m so wet that, with the smallest change in angle, he’d slip inside.
‘Yes—please—I am,’ I say, pushing up onto the toe of my high heels and leveraging my weight against him, ultimately succeeding in just that.
His sharp intake of breath is right by my ear, a sound that I could listen to again and again. His hips rock forward and his rumbling groan vibrates from his chest against my spine. I feel vindicated, and more importantly, so deliciously full.
‘You beautiful wee minx,’ he breathes into my neck. I can feel him smiling and a moment later, he pulls back and thrusts back in. And again. And again. ‘Is this what you want?’
He punctuates his movements with each of those words, pushing a breath and a hissed, ‘Yes!’ right out of me. One hand anchored against my hip and the other again braced over mine against the mirror, he builds a rhythm with each snap of his hips, pushing me forward as he fucks me deep.
In my reflection, my breasts do their damnedest to sway, but my lack in that department is the furthest thing from my mind. This is so... I can’t even find the words, though my mouth is open as he twists my face to his, sliding his tongue across my lips. ‘Let’s hear those little come sounds. Let me eat them up.’
I gasp, my insides pulsing harder than ever, but I’ve never done that—come twice in one encounter, I mean. Not that I won’t enjoy it, but I won’t be able—
The thought is fleeting as something tightens inside me, something hotter and slicker than before. The noises I make are plaintive and raw, pleasure tearing through me like a rip current.
‘Oh, God, oh, God,’ I breathe. I try to throw my head back to ride this wave, but his hand keeps me fixed, my head twisted to the side.
‘I can’t...I can’t...’ believe I’m coming again. Twice. And so quickly. I’ve never—
‘That’s... that’s it,’ he rasps, riding this out with me, lost to everything but movement and sensation. His mouth delivers biting kisses across my mouth and jaw, his eyes alternately flicking from my mouth to the mirror as he watches us fuck.
A moment later his movements turn jerky and I feel the ache of his sudden loss. Twisting my head further, he holds himself in his hand, his climax spurting from between his fingers, over the satin of my panties, the back of my skirt and my thighs.
‘Jesus.’ His chest rises and falls rapidly as he plants one hand back on my hip, his head bowed and resting against mine.
‘B...it...you...’ Frick. I can’t get the words to come out right. I tilt my head over my shoulder in an attempt to see. ‘What happened to the condom?’
‘Don’t stress.’ His hand drifts from my hip as he tucks himself away.
‘That... I... you did that on purpose?’ Did he? Why would he? Surely—
He peers at me from under the length of his hair, eyes bright and his smile wicked.
‘Aye.’ One word. As gravelly as all fuck.
‘Why would you—’ As he begins to chuckle darkly, my brain kicks in. Oh, Lord, he’s one of those men; the kind I’ve only ever encountered between the pages of a book. ‘Please,’ I say, my cheeks heating as he begins to chuckle. ‘Just. Shut. Up.’
He laughs a little harder and I start to turn away only to be confronted by the mirror. I close my eyes to the sight for a beat before attempting to pop my boobs back into their tiny cups.
‘Will you relax?’
Rory’s words catch me off guard—their soft tone and the way they whisper across my skin.
‘I—I’m fine.’ The prickly creature that I usually am seems to have crawled into my throat. ‘What’s it to you, anyway?’
‘Because.’ His hands against my waist, he lowers his mouth to my ear. ‘I’d like to do that again. Maybe even a few times more tonight.’
Oh, Lord.
