With my legs wrapped around his waist, I squeeze, holding him still. Chest heaving, I focus on my breathing, willing my body to adjust to his size. After a moment, I relax my legs and give Ezra a tentative smile.
He plants his hands on either side of my head and presses his lips against mine as he slides his cock along my inner wall slowly.
The plug in my ass and the metal on his cock rub together through the thin layer of smooth muscle, sending a shudder through me. Fuck. It’s a tight fit.
“That feels good,” he moans into my hair. “Fuck, Millie. That pussy of yours is perfect. I need to taste it.” Without a second of hesitation, he pulls out.
A cry escapes me. “No—” My protest is cut off when he licks and flicks my clit with more ferocity than a wildfire. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he runs his fingers up my body and pinches my nipples. I claw at his hands, too sensitive, but he clamps down even harder.
“Ezra. Fuck,” I sob. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… you.”
Finally, he comes up for air, a total mess, his beautiful beard sopping wet. He’s never looked hotter. Pinning my shaking thighs to the mattress, he rises onto his knees and moves closer.
I grasp his cock between us and run my thumb along the underside of his shaft, delicately exploring the perfectly placed metal. “How does it feel when you’re inside me?”
“Like heaven.”
With a groan, I feed his cock to my pussy. I don’t stop until he’s seated fully. He rocks his hips in a steady rhythm as the heady smells and sounds of our union fill the room. Lost to the sensations, I arch my back. My vision blurs, and tears stream down my cheeks. Nothing has ever felt like this.
Ezra rests his forehead on mine, our sweat mixing, our breaths mingling.
Anyone in their right mind would pay good money to hear the sounds coming out of this man’s mouth. He’s loud, and I fucking love it.
“More,” I beg, matching his rhythm, my tits bouncing.
With a grunt, he bends to catch an eager nipple in his mouth. He sucks hard, sending sparks of electricity straight to my core.
“That feels good,” I praise. “So good. Don’t stop.”
I slip a hand between our bodies. The wet, swollen bundle of nerves is ready for its encore.
“That’s it, baby. Play with that clit. Come for Daddy.”
That’s all it takes to send me hurtling over the edge. I’m lost in the forest of orgasms and never coming back. It was nice knowing you, world, but I’m broken. Broken by my Brooklyn Boy.
Before I’ve completely returned to the moment, Ezra groans, the sound pained. “Fuck, Millie. Where can I come?”
“Here.” Without hesitation, I tap a finger to my navel.
He pulls out in a rush, his motions jerky, and hot bursts of cum stain my stretch marks.
I’ve never felt so beautiful.
He collapses onto his back beside me, running a hand along my inner thigh.
Jolting, I grasp his wrist. “Stop.”
“Wh—what’s wrong?” he asks, retracting his hand like I’ve burned him.
“Nothing. I’m just ticklish there after I come.”
His body sags in relief beside me, and for several minutes, we silently stare at the ceiling. Eventually my eyes drift closed. I’m not sure whether I dozed off or zoned out, but I’m startled back to the moment by a warm, wet sensation at my belly. I blink myselfback into existence and discover Ezra hovering over me with a wet washcloth, cleaning his cum from my body.
Once he’s taken the washcloth back to the bathroom, he collapses onto the mattress and draws me into his side.
I resist and point to the plug still inside me. “Uh, I need to…”
He sits up, his brows lifted. “May I?”
