Page 11 of Once Upon A Second Chance (Once Upon A Time…To Happily Ever After #2)
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.
“Please, Richard. I need it. I need you inside me.” His hands grip my hips as he flips me on my stomach and pulls me up to my knees, slapping my ass hard and positioning himself at my entrance, kneeling behind me.
“You need it, huh? You want me inside you? You want my cock to fuck you?”
My breath catches as he pushes inside me, his thickness filling my cunt completely. His movements are slow at first, deliberate, as if savoring every inch of my tunnel, as if he owns it.
But soon, he’s pounding into me; me on my knees as he takes me from behind, his thrusts relentless and so deep, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I’m sure he’ll leave bruises.
With a final, commanding thrust, he pulls out, his breath ragged as he steps back from me. I whimper in protest, my body aching for more.
Richard smirks, his eyes dark with desire, his cock thick and throbbing. “On your back, Penny,” he commands, his voice brooking no argument. “I want to see you when I cum.”
I obey, my body still trembling as I lie back on the bed, my legs spread wide, waiting and welcoming for him. Richard hovers between them, his presence looming over me, his thick cock in his hand as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Watch me, Penny,” he growls, his voice a low rumble.
My breath catches as he begins to move faster, his hand gripping his cock tightly.
Without warning, Richard once again thrusts his cock into my pussy, entering me hard and fast and thrusting deeply.
His expression is intense, his jaw clenched as he teeters on the edge. “Cum for me, Penny,” he commands, his voice relentless. “I want you to cum again now.”
I feel my breath catch as Richard's voice drops to a new, more forceful tone I’ve never heard before, his confident hands guiding me with unquestionable authority that makes me surrender control completely—a new side to him that both surprises and thrills me.
My body obeys, my orgasm ripping through me like a rogue wave as I watch him, his release mirroring my own. His cries of ecstasy fill the cabin, his seed spilling into my cunt, a final, primal claim.
As our breathing slows, Richard collapses beside me, his hand resting on my hip, his presence still overwhelming.
My body still buzzes from the intensity of the encounter; different from when we first discovered each other again following the tornado.
This was stronger somehow, more forceful, Richard more dominant. I'm surprised to discover how much I enjoyed surrendering control—a submissive side of myself I never knew existed until now.
Richard’s fingers trace lazy patterns on my skin, his touch almost tender.
“It’s amazing, really,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost vulnerable, “that you’re still the only one who can make me feel like this.”
My heart swells as I turn to face him, my hand resting on his chest. His expression is unguarded for once, but as our eyes meet, the moment shifts, that tendency toward dominance returning to his gaze.
“We’re not done, Penny,” he growls, his voice a low warning. “We’ve only just begun.”
As his hand trails down my body, his touch deliberate, I know he’s right. This mountain cabin has become our playground, and Richard is determined to explore every inch of it—and me—before the weekend is through.
We lie there afterward, tangled in the sheets and each other—sweaty and spent but unwilling to let go. My pulse gradually slows from frantic to normal but my heart keeps racing stubbornly ahead.
I press a kiss to his temple where his hair is damp. “You’re different somehow. More forceful. More commanding, I guess.”
He tightens his hold around me, pulling me impossibly closer. “Are you complaining?”
“Never. I liked it. I liked it a lot.”
We drift like that for a while, the stars bright through the window. Just as I’m slipping into sleep, Richard murmurs:
“I’m serious about those socks.”
***
Morning light spills across the floorboards when I wake, casting patterns of sun and shadow that inch slowly toward the bed.
Richard is already up—my side of the mattress cool but yesterday’s shirt draped over me like an afterthought. The scent of coffee wafts in from somewhere downstairs.
I yawn luxuriously, stretching under the quilt before pulling on his shirt (which smells so much like him) along with yesterday's leggings. The house is quiet as I make my way down the spiral staircase and into—
The kitchen: Richard stands at the stove looking far too competent for this hour of day and our current altitude level.
He glances up when he hears me coming, then smiles—a sleepy-eyed, satisfied grin that makes my knees go weak all over again.
“Morning,” he says handing me a steaming mug.
“Hey.” I take it gratefully then tiptoe up to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. It turns into something more involved than intended but who can blame us?
When we finally come up for air I lean against him contentedly watching as he flips pancakes with unnecessary flair.
“Did you ever think,” I say between sips of life-giving caffeine, “we’d end up here?”
He arches an eyebrow. “In a cabin? In Tennessee?”
“Together.” The word hangs there suspended like something fragile waiting to be caught or dropped depending how brave I am today.
Richard turns off the burner then faces me fully, his expression serious but soft around edges that used to be hard: walls built out of fear or pride or both.
“I hoped,” he says simply.
The truth between us glows warm and steady—almost too bright to look at directly after years spent looking past it stubbornly, sure we’d moved on with our lives when really we’d just detoured away.