Chapter 13 PSL Ever After #7
“God, you look so fucking good like this,” Richard panted, voice thick with awe and need. “Watching you ride me—never gonna forget this, Ed. Never want it to end.”
“Don’t stop,” I demanded, bouncing harder, slamming myself down, making sure he hit every spot inside me that made me see stars. “Don’t you fucking stop, Rich. Wanna feel you—wanna take it all.”
His hands gripped my ass, spreading me wide, guiding every motion, forcing me to take him deeper, rougher. My body sang, nerves firing, muscles burning, every bit of self-control lost to the animal need between us. The pressure built again, urgent and raw, pleasure spiraling up my spine.
Richard fucked up into me, wild now, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his temples, his whole body straining for release. My hands locked on his pecs, nails digging in, and I rode him for all I was worth, chasing the edge, refusing to stop until we both broke.
Richard’s grip was punishing—fingers digging into the meat of my ass, guiding every brutal thrust, making me take every inch, every ounce of the need burning between us.
My body arched, sweat-soaked and shaking, every muscle straining to stay upright as his cock drove into me, thick and hard, stretching me wider, deeper, until the only thing left was the savage connection of skin and heat and want.
He fucked up into me, wild, desperate, sweat pouring down his chest and pooling between us, his whole body thrumming with the same raw hunger that made my head spin.
His hands never loosened, pulling me down to meet him stroke for stroke, grinding, pistoning, losing all rhythm except for the one need: harder, deeper, now.
“Ed—fuck—gonna lose it—” Richard’s voice was guttural, almost unrecognizable, ragged with surrender and awe.
“Give it to me,” I begged, riding him even harder, my own hand pumping my cock, chasing that edge again, refusing to let go, refusing to slow down. “Fill me up, Rich, want to feel you fucking pour into me, want you to come so hard you forget your name.”
His hips snapped up, each thrust nearly lifting me off his lap, cock driving in so deep I swore I could feel him in my throat, eyes rolling back with the intensity of it.
My grip on his pecs tightened, fingers digging in, feeling the wild strength in every flex, every ripple of muscle beneath my hands.
I could barely breathe. My body trembled, pleasure building, sparking behind my eyes, heat searing my spine.
My balls drew tight, cock leaking, smearing precome across his abs, and with a final, desperate shout, I came—hard—every muscle locking, back arching, hot ropes of cum splattering across Richard’s chest, up his throat, painting his jaw and mouth, making him gasp, eyes blown wide with shock and delight.
He groaned, grabbing my hips, slamming me down one last time, cock swelling, pulsing, and then he came too—deep inside me, flood after flood, so much I could feel it spill out, leaking down my thighs, mixing with the sweat and mess, marking me as his, inside and out.
We shuddered through it together, bodies clinging, breath mingling, moans tangled up until neither of us knew who was making what sound. I rocked against him, milking every drop, shivering with aftershocks as his cock twitched inside me, his hands still holding me like he’d never let go.
Eventually, the need gentled. My body slumped forward, boneless and sated, folding over his chest, cheek pressed to the mess I’d left, heart hammering like a fist in my ribs.
Richard’s arms came around me, slow and tender now, drawing me down until we were tangled together in a knot of limbs and sweat and the smell of sex.
Neither of us spoke at first. Our breaths were the only sound, quieting in the aftermath. His palm stroked my spine, grounding me, bringing me back to myself. I kissed the curve of his shoulder, soft and open-mouthed, tasting the salt, the sweat, the love I’d tried to hide for too long.
I pulled up just enough to see his face, still streaked with my cum, eyes bright and soft, a smile curling the edges of his mouth. “You’re a fucking disaster,” I whispered, brushing my thumb along his jaw, smearing the mess further. “You know that?”
His laugh rumbled up, low and wrecked, the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. “And you’re a menace. Couldn’t get enough of you if I tried.”
The words made my chest ache. I wanted to bury myself in him, never leave this bed, never come down from the high of being wanted, chosen, seen.
My hand found his, fingers twining, holding tight. “I love you,” I said, quiet, scared, fierce. “More than I thought I ever could. More than makes sense.”
Richard’s eyes widened, emotion flickering raw across his face, and he pulled me down into a kiss—soft at first, then hungry, greedy, needing to taste every bit of me all over again. When he let me go, his hand found my cheek, thumb stroking beneath my eye.
“I love you too, Ed,” he breathed. “Always have. Didn’t know I still had it in me to feel this much again.”
Warmth flooded through me, a relief so total it hurt. I laughed, giddy, pressing kisses to his lips, his beard, his temple, every part of him I could reach. “Took you long enough to say it,” I teased, voice wrecked.
He rolled us gently, settling me beneath him, blanketing me in his weight, his warmth. “Making up for lost time,” he whispered, nuzzling into my neck, the words hot and wet against my skin. “Don’t plan to waste another second.”
We lay like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading into nothing, just the two of us tangled in sweat and cum and the certainty that whatever came next, we’d face it together. The man I loved, the life I’d never expected, the mess and beauty and truth of it all.
My eyes drifted shut, contentment blooming in my chest. “Say it again,” I murmured.
His lips brushed my ear, his arms holding me tighter, voice deep and sure. “I love you, Ed. I love you so much.”
I let myself believe it. Let myself belong.