Page 48 of Want Me
And Jesus did he start fucking me then. Jolts of stinging pleasure cracked like lightning bolts through my body, creating a riot of sensation that sizzled through my balls, my back, and the head of my dick like an electrical storm. I felt him everywhere, each potent thrust guttering me out and radiating through me.
“This what you want? Me destroying that tight hole?”
“Yes. Shit yes.” I gasped for air, only half-aware of his lust-thick grunts. It was impossible for me to keep my arms behind my head. They flew up, my hands closing over his where they gripped my jeans as his body smacked noisily against me. Fuck, he felt massive plunging in and out of me. It was like the first time all over again, the boundless thrill of him owning my body’s responses and making me wild. My heart thundered in my chest, and I broke out in a sweat despite the cool air washing over my torso and the chilly ground leaching into my back. I chanted out garbled encouragements and reached for my cock, gave the slick length a few clumsy strokes, and saw starbursts of blue and white against the back of my eyelids. Somehow we shifted because Eric’s voice came close to my ear when he next spoke, low and breathless with arousal. “I know you want to come, baby. But don’t. Not yet.”
He slowed to an agonizingly sedate rock inside me, and I opened my eyes, now on my side as he hovered over me. I wondered if there’d ever be such a thing as a quickie between us. I let go of my dick with a testy whine that made him chuckle as he slid back inside me on a deep stroke that glided over my prostate and morphed into a shudder that racked my shoulders. My dick twitched threateningly. “Might not have a choice,” I warned.
Eric released his grasp on my jeans and reached down to feather another caress over my shaft. “I want that load filling the back of my throat the way I’m about to fill your ass.” He flicked the head of my cock, and the nettling sting biting back against the surge of pleasure was the only thing that kept me from coming right then.
An electric hum speared through me as he thrust inside me again, and when he told me to clench, I did and was rewarded with the heavy weight of his body collapsing onto mine and the hot rush of his release flooding me as he let out a curse, then a raw-throated moan. God, I’d be hearing that cry in my head for weeks. I felt his jizz trickle between my cheeks, and he pumped into me a few more times before he squeezed my ass and dropped down next to me.
Without taking any time to bask in the afterglow of his orgasm, Eric slid down, and I sighed out as he closed his mouth over my cock. Sweet, blessed fucking suction drew me deep into the wet heat of his throat. His fingers dug into one asscheek, and I tried to restrain myself for all of a second before I gave in to the primal urge to thrust hard. He rolled onto his back and carried me with him so that I was half-straddling, half-hovering over his chest, hands splayed on the ground above his head as I fucked his mouth.
“Oh Jesus,” I whispered, because it was a fucking sight. I loved this about him. Loved how he could order me around, shred every trace of my own inhibitions, and fuck me until I teetered on the edge between feeling used and worshipped, then turn around and let me do the same to him. I didn’t quite understand the dynamic between us the way I had in other relationships, but I sure enjoyed the shit out of it in moments like this.
I managed to get myself more upright and shove my jeans down to my ankles so I could spread my thighs wider and take full advantage of Eric on his back underneath me, swallowing my cock with every punch of my hips. He squeezed the tops of my thighs, fingernails digging into my quads, and I gripped the base of my dick, withdrawing to slap the tip over his lips a couple of times and enjoying the stinging smear of his stubble. It felt good, felt dirty, felt like us.
“Open your mouth,” I demanded, then my own dropped open in ball-tightening pleasure as I rubbed my crown over his tongue and lips. “Goddamn that’s hot.” His eyes fixed on my face, a glimmer of humor in them for the fascination in my voice, I was sure.
Eric kept his gaze locked on me as I watched my dick slip and slide around his mouth. His fingers slid into my ass, still slick with his come, and the groan he let out hummed over my shaft as he sucked me back in. The slow roll toward orgasm evaporated with a warning tingle as he stroked over my prostate. I gasped and rocked back on him, then gave in to the pressure in my balls and fucked his mouth the way he’d just fucked me, hard and ruthless, with one hand twisting in his hair, daring him to stop me or slow me down. I knew he wouldn’t. He fucking loved it just as much as I did. I caught the edge of his teeth and hardly even noticed for the firm pressure of his mouth against me, the feel of his tongue flicking and lapping at my crown. When he grabbed the base of my dick and started pumping my shaft into his throat, it was over.
I came on a rough-throated cry, and Eric tensed his hand on my thigh as I flooded the back of his throat and kept going, letting him suck me dry until I softened between his lips and all that was left of my muscles and bones were little tremors.
I rolled to my side on the ground, not even caring about the damp and cold or that my pants were still down around my ankles. Eric chased after me, bracing on an elbow as he bent and kissed me hard with his slippery mouth, his tongue coated in my release and the muddy commingling of his taste and mine strangely exciting.
With another press of his lips to the corner of my mouth, he drew back and stared down at me, watchful. “Say something.”
I shivered as the cold hit me all at once. “Can’t. Think I just shot my capacity for coherent speech down the back of your throat.”
He chuckled. “That sounded pretty coherent to me.”
“Fluke,” I muttered and shifted around to drag my pants back up on my hips.
After a few moments, Eric stood and tucked himself away with one hand and offered his other out to help me up. He steadied me when my legs wobbled as I rose. “How do you recover so fast?” I was limp with exhaustion.
“Because I didn’t just spend five minutes face fucking the shit out of someone?” He tugged up his zipper with a smirk. He had a point. “That was sexy as hell, by the way. We should try it again sometime.”
“Maybe.” I tried and failed to hide a smile as I dusted the leaf bits from myself, then turned around and let Eric pick a few from my back. We stood there for a second, looking over the mess we’d made of each other, and then Eric threw his head back and laughed. Just when I thought I was starting to sober up, the full-bodied ripple of sound made me feel drunk all over again.
“What are the odds that your mom would buy into a story about us getting into a fight with some kind of wildlife on the way home.”
“Not good.” I reached down to grab my jacket, then handed him his.
“Then we’ll just have to be extra quiet.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
* * *
The smellof coffee woke me, and I thrashed around in the bed for a second trying to go back to sleep, hoping a second waking would be one without the headache currently drumming my skull. I’d been drinking too much. Even for me it was becoming excessive. I squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing at them as if I could rub the lack of sleep away, and then opened them again, dragging in a deep breath and resolving I’d cut back.
The night caught up to me in a jigsaw of images: the cold forest floor on my back, the shadow of Eric’s body over me. His hands on my thighs, his cock in my ass.Jesus Christ, I want you. When I touched the side of my neck and then my shoulders, the skin felt tender and raw. I smiled.
Throwing the covers from my legs, I stood, plucking at my waistband a couple of times in a daze before I stumbled toward the door and opened it. The water was running in the hall bath, light shifting around through the cracked doorway as Eric moved. Something about the normalcy of those sights and sounds filled me with happy relief, dulled my headache, and made the faintly sour feeling in my stomach morph into a flutter.
I nudged the door until Eric moved to the side to let me in as he reached to run the razor in his hand under the water and cast a careful gaze over me. He was looking for regret, some sign that I was going to chalk last night up to drunkenness and resume the cold-war stalemate we’d been locked in before.
“Head’s killing me,” I muttered, standing half behind him as I ran a hand over my bare chest. He wore only his jeans, water droplets scattered over his shoulders, shaving foam remnants peppering his left cheek. After a second, he lifted the razor to his jaw again, scraping down and pointing his pinky toward a bottle of pills on the counter. “Same. Found those in the drawer.”