Page 41 of Once Upon A Second Chance

His hands slide under my thighs, lifting me easily as he stands. I wrap around him instinctively, his bare chest hot against mine.

We make it up the stairs and into the master bedroom without disentangling—he’s always been strong like this—falling onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and laughter.

The air between us is thick with anticipation, a decade’s worth of longing hanging heavily between us.

I can feel my skin flush, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I watch Richard loom over me.

He is a commanding presence, his broad shoulders filling the space, his eyes dark and hungry as they roam over my body. His voice, a low growl, cuts through the silence, a stark contrast to the soft rustling of pine trees outside.

His words send a shiver down my spine, my pussy dampening as I recall our recent sexual encounter. A mix of desire and apprehension coil in my chest.

I remember this version of Richard—relentless, unyielding, masterful.

He’s the same man I fell for in college, but now, after all this time, I sense there’s a new edge to him, a raw intensity that makes my pulse quicken.

He doesn’t wait for a response, his hands already moving, claiming me as if I’m an extension of him.

He starts at my ankles, his strong grip deliberate, his touch both firm and reverent. His mouth and fingers trail up my calves, slow and purposeful, as if mapping my body anew.

I feel my breath hitch as his hands glide over my knees, my thighs, his movements deliberate, calculated to heighten my anticipation, which is already considerable.

With a swift, deliberate motion, he spreads my legs wide, and I gasp, my body arching toward him, instinctively seeking his touch as my cunt releases juices that spill down my thigh.

Richard’s eyes never leave mine as he climbs my body inch by inch, his gaze piercing, as if he’s searching for something deeper than my desire.

His tongue traces up my inner thighs, feather-light, a stark contrast to the intensity in his expression. My skin tingles wherever he kisses or licks, every nerve alight with a mix of pleasure and longing.

“Richard,” I whisper, my voice a breathy plea, my body already aching and arching, reaching for more.

He smirks, a slow, sensual curve of his lips that sends a shiver down my spine. “What do you want, Penny?” he asks, his tone deceptively casual as his tongue finally hovers over my wet core.

I whimper softly as he circles my clit, his tongue licking, teasing, withholding the pressure I crave. I can feel the throb of my cunt as it begs to be fucked.

My hips buck involuntarily, my body desperate to be consumed by him, but he’s relentless.

“Richard,” I plead again, my voice trembling with need.

He leans down, his breath hot on my ear, his presence overwhelming. “Tell mewhat you want, Penny. Tell me now,” his tone much more forceful this time.

His fingers on my pussy continue their torturous dance, his touch deliberate, driving me to the edge but never letting me fall. I squirm beneath him, my body writhing, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps. The rest of the world is forgotten as our reunion consumes us.

“Please, Richard,” she finally whispers, her voice hoarse with need. “I want you. I want you to fuck me.” A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound of pure male satisfaction.

My head falls back, my hair spilling across the pillow as my body coils tighter and tighter. The pleasure builds, a storm gathering inside me, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

“Cum for me, Penny,” he growls, his voice a command that brooks no argument. “Scream my name.”

His fingers thrust deeper, his thumb circling my clit with relentless precision. My body finally shatters, my orgasm ripping through me like a rogue wave hitting the beach, my cries echoing throughout the cabin.

My muscles clench around his fingers, my body convulsing as I surrender to the pleasure. I can feel Richard watching me, his expression both satisfied and hungry, as if this is only the beginning.

As my orgasm fades, Richard withdraws his hand, his touch lingering on my thigh as he stands over me. My chest rises and falls rapidly, my body still trembling from the force of my release.

Richard’s eyes roam over me once again, his gaze possessive, as if he’s claiming me all over again. “Twelve years,” he repeats, his voice softer now, almost tender. “And you’re still mine.”

My breath catches for a moment as he reaches down, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face.

For a moment, the dominance fades, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.