Page 6 of Omega
“Fuck…” I gasped.
“Shit, Kyrie. I’m there, love, I’m—oh, ohhhhh fuck….”
And he came, before he could even formulate the words. I felt it, felt him gush into the condom, felt him thicken yet more. I groaned and moved with him as he fucked me, moving the dildo in synch with his pace.
Everything stopped, then, as he came. My blood turned to fire, my muscles—all 640-some of them—contracted and pulsed, and my cunt squeezed and my asshole contracted and I writhed like a madwoman, bit the sheets and screamed as an orgasm unlike anything in my life ripped through me, and Roth kept fucking, fucking, fucking, pushing me through the climax until I was quivering and moaning and crying. And then I came once more, and then again in an unending cycle. I barely knew what was happening as wave after wave of nuclear-powered climax exploded through me, and in me.
As the aftershocks hit me like earthquakes, each one a wracking orgasm in its own right, I felt Roth pull out of me as slowly and carefully as he’d pushed in, by gradual degrees, tenderly.
When he was out of me, I collapsed to my side, tears sliding down my cheeks. I felt him get up and heard him discard the condom, and then he was in bed with me, cradling me against his warm broad chest.
“Jesus, Kyrie. I still can’t breathe right, I came so hard.”
I curled into him. Gripped the back of his neck, lying completely on top of him, pressing my lips to his throat. “Valentine, I don’t—I don’t even have words for what that was.”
“You’re okay, though?”
I lifted up enough that he could see my eyes, and see that I spoke the truth. “So much more than okay. I loved it, loved everything about it, but I don’t think we can do that very often. It was just…so fucking intense I don’t think I could handle it every time.”
“Itwasincredible. But yeah, not all the time.”
We were quiet for a while, in the special place where we needed no words. We weren’t sleeping, just utterly content in each other, holding on, breathing, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat.
And then I felt his cock under my belly, hardening.
Still we needed no words. I reached between us and stroked him to life, slid him into my slit, fed him inch by inch into my pussy. I pressed my lips to his throat, crushed my hips to his, laying on top of him, my thighs gripping his sides. I took his face in my palms and turned it to mine and kissed him breathless, fucked him senseless, riding him until he was crazed and I was gasping and sweating, kissing him all the while, until we were writhing in utter synchronicity, right to the edge. And then, moments before we came, I went still. I pressed him onto the bed, stopping him. I held him down, my hands on his shoulders. I sat upright and looked at him.
“Look at me, Valentine,” I said. He rested his hands on my thighs, and his eyes went to mine. “Don’t move.”
Sitting upright, his cock filling me, his beautiful blue eyes on mine, I rode Valentine slowly, rocking on him, grinding on him, bracing myself with my palms at the V of my thighs. I rolled my hips in broad, wide circles, lifting so he was almost out, sitting on him so he was fully in, stretching him away from his body, riding, riding, riding.
Sweat coated his gloriously muscled body in a sheen, and he fought to remain still.
I felt him nearing the edge, and slowed. I waited, holding him stretched away so he couldn’t release. I waited some more until he tensed, until he was shaking all over with need. I touched my clit with one finger while he watched, holding us still, fluttering so he wouldn’t lose the edge of near-orgasm. I fingered myself—
And then I came, falling forward, flinging my arms around his neck and writhing as he spurted his seed into me, flooding me with his wet heat, and we were groaning, mouths sloppily seeking and kissing, until there was only the orgasm still detonating in both of us, simultaneously.
When at long last the waves and shudders ceased, Roth pulled out of me. He rose and padded to the bathroom for a towel, came back and rolled me onto my back, parted my folds with gentle fingers and cleaned me with the towel, and then climbed back in bed next to me.
Another long, drowsy, lazy, sated silence ensued, both of us utterly spent.
My mind wandered and I wondered idly if we’d made port yet, but decided I didn’t care.
His voice rumbled, my ear to his chest. “I was going to make it a surprise, but I’ve decided against that.”
“Make what a surprise?” I asked.
“The reason we’re going back to the States.”
“Which is?”
A pause. “Well, business aside…it’s for us.”
“First, what’s the business aspect of the trip?”
“I’m selling off a bunch of holdings and properties. Including the tower in Manhattan. I’m liquidating a bunch of assets and I’ve got to be there to finalize the sales.”
“You’re selling the tower?”