31. Giselle
Chapter 31
Giselle
“ M m fuck .” Tipping my head upwards to the ceiling, the ends of my hair tickling my back, I let out a satisfied groan.
Licking my lips, I pitch forward again, this time letting out a small whimper of pleasure as I hit the perfect spot.
“Is it wrong that I’m a little disappointed?”
So caught up in working out my kinks, I don’t hear Hudson letting himself in to my apartment with the key I gave him for our three-month anniversary, until he’s standing in my living room, hands planted on the back of the sofa, watching me go at it.
Frowning up at him, I force myself to stay still. “Huh?”
Subtly tilting his chin up an inch, he gestures silently to the scene in front of him. “You sounded like you we’re getting yourself off.”
Blinking at him slowly, I turn my gaze to peer down at the cylinder-shaped foam roller I’ve been using to roll out my sore inner thigh muscles.
This week’s amount of dance training has been intense, and the pulsating ache in my legs is killing me, so after I left the gym, stealing a kiss from my boyfriend who was still busy training a client, I headed home, rolled out my yoga mat and began moving through a series of stretches in an attempt to unpick the knots forming in my muscle and tissue.
Repositioning the damned foam roller, which is both my best friend and my worst enemy with its raised bumps designed to really dig into my tight muscle, I squeeze my eyes shut, red hot pain searing through me.
I grit my teeth, ignoring the hiss of agony escaping my lungs, and stretch my leg out long again. Keeping the foam roller beneath my right thigh, I plant my palms flat on my yoga mat and roll myself backward and forwards, backwards and forwards, backward—
“Here.” Hudson rounds the sofa, squatting down beside me, a familiar looking bottle in his hand.
I glance at the oil and then at him, pressing my lips together as another wave of agony rips through me.
“Strip and lie on your front.”
I hardly hesitate, pushing the foam roller away, hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my gym leggings and pulling them down to my ankles.
Peering over my shoulder, I watch Hudson’s eyes glued to each inch of skin appearing as I remove my clothes. “Underwear on or off?”
“Your choice… although you know what my answer would be.”
Feeling a warm blush begin to tinge the top of my cheekbones, I make the split-second decision to peel the rest of my clothes off too.
Cold air kisses my core as I unsnap my sports bra, moving through all fours and onto my stomach.
Behind me, Hudson grumbles his approval, draping himself over my back to press a sweet kiss to the ball of my shoulder.
I can’t help but wiggle against the hard bulge digging into my lower back, anticipation turning into arousal, which pools warmly in my core.
Hudson allows me to grind against him for a heartbeat or two before he stills me with a tight pinch to my hip, pulling the flesh apart there until I feel the cool air of my apartment dance over my arsehole.
I know Hudson has a thing for my arse – it’s a pretty good arse if I do say so myself – so I’m not really all that surprised when he leans backwards, taking most of his weight off my back, to suck a red mark into my right arse cheek.
“One day. One fucking day, Gee,” he mutters, his stubble rubbing up against the sensitive crease where my bum and thigh meet.
He doesn’t have to say much more to elaborate; I know exactly what he wants.
My arse.
But it’s going to take a little more prep sessions before I’m ready to take him without tensing up in pain.
Much to Hudson’s teasing touch and devil like smirk.
Cocking a brow, I glance back at him. “You’re supposed to be helping me stretch out my kinks, remember?”
“Oh, I’ll help stretch you out alright.” He grins back at me, smoothing back a slutty lock of brunette hair from his forehead and tucking it back under his backwards facing snapback cap.
Jesus.
If he can see, or feel, how wet I am for him, he doesn’t comment.
But we both know how my body is reacting to him, our close proximity, the power dynamic of him being fully clothed and me naked. I can feel my arousal coating my inner thighs, making my skin tacky, the pulse of my heartbeat thrumming through my swollen clit.
Folding my arms to act as a cushion for my head, I lay my cheek down, closing my eyes at the cool sensation of my foam yoga mat rubbing against my hard nipples.
I hear Hudson uncork the glass bottle of massage oil, and the sound of his tracksuit cladded legs shuffling around to get comfortable before the rose scent of the massage oil tickles my nose.
Rubbing his hands together, he warms up the oil. “Ready, Gee?”
“Mhm.”
Wrapping both hands around my left thigh, Hudson digs his thumbs into my tight muscle, the slippery oil allowing him to glide upwards, downwards and then towards my bunched up inner thigh, with ease.
It takes a few passes of his skilled hands to get me to relax fully, my body drawn up and tight, anticipating a zap of pain.
But before long I’m putty in Hudson’s hands, plaint, allowing him to move me however he wants.
“Better than the foam roller?”
“Sooo much better,” I sigh, curling and flexing my toes to test the tightness of my hamstrings.
Hudson leans forward, putting his weight into his palms as he comes into contact with a deep knot embedded in my tissue. “You should have just waited before you started without me.”
“I’m pretty sure— shit —”
“—Sorry—”
“—you said those exact words to me last week.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to come home and find you jilling yourself in the shower without me.”
Even with my back to him, I can hear the pout in his tone.
“Too horny,” I mumble, head in the clouds with the release of relaxing endorphins, making it difficult to keep track of my thoughts, let a known form complete sentences. “Couldn’t wait.”
“What about now?” Hudson’s thumbs move higher than the crease of my thigh, massaging the flesh of my arse cheek. “If I touched you now, would you drip all over my fingers?”
“F-find out for yourself.”
Those skilled fingers of Hudson’s don’t pause, continuing to massage my flesh, until I’m second guessing whether he even heard my taunt or not.
But before I can open my mouth, I feel the pad of his thumb graze over my puckered arsehole, once, twice, lingering there until I get the message and then gliding down, down, down, until he reaches my soaked entrance.
Hudson slides two fingers into me easily, greedily pressing upwards against the spongy spot that makes me lose all control. I spasm around his hand, curling my toes, pressure slowly beginning to build.
“Hips up, Giselle.”
Legs like jelly, I just about manage to balance my weight evenly across my knees, burying my head back into the crook of my elbow.
Slipping his fingers from me with a wet squelch, Hudson prises me apart with his thumbs, flattening his tongue and licking a long strip up me from my clit to my sodden entrance. He moans his approval, fingers digging into my flesh, keeping me steady, as he shoves his face further into my core.
“ Ugh .”
The low chuckle that escapes Hudson’s lips vibrates against my clit, sending a jolt of ecstasy through my body.
I ball my hands into fists, nails piercing the foam material of my yoga mat, feeling the pressure in my womb start to tighten.
“H-Hudson, I’m—”
Pressing his knees to the inside of mine, he forces my stance to widen, tilting my pelvis up even further and redoubles his efforts of eating me out.
“You taste so fucking good, Gee,” Hudson praises, sucking one of my lips into his mouth. “Could spend all day between your thighs.”
It’s a sensory overload; the slurping sound of Hudson’s mouth going to town on me, his own pleasured groans at the taste of me, the feeling of his four-day beard rubbing up against the soft flesh of my inner thighs.
“I’m— mhm —close. Don’t fucking s-stop.”
“Wouldn’t dare,” Hudson groans into my overstimulated flesh, sealing his lips over my clit and sucking hard.
I’m breaking apart at the seams, my orgasm ripping through me without mercy. One minute I can feel my core tightening; the next I’m free falling from the edge.
Snapping my hips back, I grind against Hudson’s face, the bridge of his nose grazing the thin membrane of skin between my core and my back entrance, wringing out every drop of ecstasy I can.
One of my hands reaches backwards, knocking his snapback off until I hear it drop to the ground with a dull thud, and fisting the strands, keeping him at my core.
A quick hiss of pain and Hudson is prying my hand away from his hair, tucking my fingers into a fist and restraining it against my lower back with a flick of his wrist.
Still twitching from the aftershocks wracking my body, Hudson doesn’t give me a second to recover before he’s deftly flipping me over, yanking his t-shirt up and over his head and pulling my sore thighs over his hips to straddle him like a cowgirl.
“Sit,” he orders, pupils blown wide, lips kiss bitten. “Sit on my cock, Giselle.”
Another rush of heat dances through me, my pussy greedily fluttering in agreement.
Fixing my eyes on his, I hook my thumbs into the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms and his underwear, pulling the material down until it pools around his ankles. Wrapping my hand around his pulsing length, fingertips grazing the thatch of neatly trimmed curls at the base of his cock, I raise myself up, positioning him at my entrance and slowly, inch by fucking inch, slide myself down until I’m sitting primly in his lap, the flesh of my arse cradled by his thick muscular thighs.
“Fucking hell —” Hudson tips his head back, exposing the long, edible length of his throat.
Flattening my palms to his tight, toned abdomen, I lean forward, feeling the tip of him pass every nerve in my core as I latch onto his bobbing Adam’s apple, nipping slightly.
I smile into his skin when two twin sets of pressure wrap around my hips, squeezing and kneading, running down over the curve of my arse, up the length of my back and back to my waist.
As if he can’t get enough of touching me.
Capturing his lips with mine, a heady thrill runs through me when Hudson begins to move my hips, dragging me back and forth over his cock until I get the message.
Contracting my stomach muscles, I force myself to sit upright again, rising up and slamming back down without warning.
Hudson’s bottom lip drops on a grunt, a line forming between his eyebrows, but his eyes look as wild as I feel inside; unable to be contained.
Picking up speed, I find a rhythm that makes us both cry out, grinding my clit against his pelvis bone and feeling myself begin to free fall again.
I come with a whine of Hudson’s name, digging my nails into his flesh, head thrown back, my hair tickling the base of my spine.
Holding my hips steady, Hudson fucks up into me from below, thrusting once, twice, three times, before I feel him spill himself inside of me, filling me with molten heat.
Exhaling unsteadily, I let out a giggle, pitching forward to lie my cheek on Hudson’s chest. I can feel him softening inside of me, the mixture of our fluids dripping out of me to land on his upper thighs.
“Better?” he asks, smoothing a palm down the length of my spine, back up to the nape of neck where I know fine hairs will be sticking there with sweat, and then repeating the soothing motion down to the base of my spine.
“So much better,” I agree with another giggle.
It takes me a second to unstick my cheek from his warm chest, but when I do, it’s to see those pretty green eyes of his watching me.
“Why are you always watching me.”
Hudson answers without hesitation. “So, I can soak up every inch of you without ever missing a moment.”
My heart constricts; a warm heat beginning to crawl across my chest, tinging the apples of my cheeks and the bridge of my nose.
“You’re sweet, Hudson.”
“Like sugar.” He grins.
“Sometimes,” I agree. “Other times… you’re trouble.”
He buries his face in my neck, pressing a kiss to my fluttering pulse point sitting beneath my ear. “You love it.”
I don’t bother denying it. What would be the point? “That I do. My kind of trouble.”
“Yours.” Hudson swipes his tongue along my lower lip, fusing our lips together when I allow him entry. “Always, yours Gee. Always.”
T HE END.