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Does he?
My thoughts blinker off as he curls his fingers inside me and presses on my g-spot. Sparks go off inside me, almost lighting a flame.
But not quite yet.
“Are you ready for my cock?” he asks.
I don’t answer, because now he’s using his other thumb to circle around my clit. It’s even more maddening than having him touch the sweet spot itself, and I let him know that by crying out my rising pleasure.
With a ragged sound, he withdraws his fingers from me and pulls my legs to his hips. I feel his tip at my entrance, but he’s controlled enough to wait.
Barely.
“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispers.
“A lot.”
“This much?”
He dips his head into my opening, just enough so that I suck in a breath at the discomfort of taking him in. As he releases me, I hear the wet sound of him slipping out.
Desire beats inside me like tiny fists as he lowers me so that I’m flat on the bed again. Then he braces himself on the mattress and slants his body so that the length of his cock slides against me, but not into me.
“Please,” I say.
He slips his hand up my body to caress my breast, and I see the battle in his gaze—light versus darkness, the present versus some kind of past that’s marked him so badly.
Then he slips his fingers down from my breast and plants his hand on the bed so that he’s caging me. The next time he prods me with his cock, it goes in farther, enough so that I inhale stiffly.
Oh, I wish he would just—
As he slides deeper inside me, I lock my legs around him and grip his arms, gasping. My walls tighten around his big cock, and when he slips out of me, there’s a stinging burn along with the discomfort.
But there’s also a craving that I have to feed, and I do it by digging my fingernails into his skin.
It’s a yes, please, more, and he enters me again, hard and thick, and with every stroke afterward, the burning subsides, and I begin to move with him.
“God, baby,” he says, working me, driving me crazy as everything whirls inside of me, gathering speed and force.
He fucks me and fucks me, my brain blinking in and out, the sound of my mewling the only thing I hear. As the friction of his cock against my walls creates heat, more sparks, a fire, everything that was suspended in me starts rolling, heading toward something big…something great…
When that something finally bursts through me with savage speed, I scream.
It’s as if my orgasm lights him up, too, because he gets all the way on the bed, bringing me onto his lap to face him. He grips my hips and impales me with his cock, and I gasp loudly again. He uses his hands to show me how to churn on him, letting his cock ease in and out of me as I hold on, groaning with every thrust as he starts to lose control.
His eyes…dark…light…I don’t even know which one anymore…
Another orgasm is building and building, and he leans me back and fucks me with his tip hitting my ultimate spot, nudging it, pushing me, urging me—
It happens again—release, wreckage, rapture as I’m torn open with a shattering wet splash. He comes, too, blasting into me, and we both fall to the bed, rolling over it with the force of our passion. I feel us both falling, and as we tumble off the mattress, I land on top of him, panting, grasping for breath as he holds me on his lap, digging his fingers into my hair.
He holds me close, my face buried against the damp skin of his neck so I can’t see his expression. But from the way he can’t seem to let go of me, I think we just crossed yet another line.
And I can’t wait for even more.