Chapter Six #4
My stomach clenches. The pleasant haze from my orgasm burns away, replaced by a sharp, electric awareness.
I can feel every point of contact between us, his hand on my knee, his thigh brushing the back of mine, the wet pressure of his tip resting against my entrance.
He hasn’t pushed in yet and my heart is already slamming hard against my ribs.
“Just breathe,” Ash murmurs, leaning over me. His blonde hair falls across his forehead, brown eyes warm and focused on my face. “Keep your eyes on me. I’ve got you.”
I grip the sheets on either side of my hips and force myself to inhale.
Ash pushes forward.
The first inch splits me open with pain. Not the manageable ache of his fingers or the strange pressure of his tongue, but a bright, searing stretch that steals the air from my lungs. My jaw clamps shut, teeth grinding together, a strangled sound leaking out. My knuckles go white in the sheets.
“Breathe, Jax,” Ash says again, his voice close to my ear now. His lips brush my jaw softly. “Don’t hold it. Let it out.”
I force a rough exhale through my teeth. He pulls back slightly, just a fraction, then pushes deeper. The stretch intensifies, my rim burning as it’s forced wider around the width of his shaft. My eyes water and I turn my face into the pillow, biting down on the cotton.
Ash’s hand slides between our bodies. His fingers wrap around my softened cock, stroking gently, coaxing blood back into it.
The dual sensation, the sting below and the warm grip of his fist, scrambles my nerve endings.
He presses a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the side of my neck, sucking gently on the skin just above my pulse point.
“You’re doing so well,” he whispers against my throat. “Almost there.”
He rocks his hips shallowly. Pulling back an inch, then sinking two inches deeper. Back, then deeper. Each thrust opens me a little more, works the lube further inside, the slick sounds of it filling the room. I start to make noises, breathy whimpers and small groans.
Then his pelvis presses flush against my ass and he bottoms out, his hips slotted snugly between my spread thighs.
The fullness is indescribable. I’m stuffed.
Packed tight around him, stretched to my limit, his cock buried so deep inside me I swear I can feel him in my stomach.
A high, keening sound tears slips of my throat, my back arching, my hands scrabbling at the sheets for something to anchor myself to.
“There you go,” Ash breathes against my collarbone. “All the way in. You took all of me.”
I can’t respond. I lie there, pinned beneath him, trembling, trying to adjust to being so impossibly full. The burn hasn’t disappeared, but it’s already receding, fading from a sharp sting into a dull, throbbing ache.
Ash holds still, giving me time. His hand keeps working my cock in slow, lazy strokes, bringing me back to full hardness. He peppers kisses across my jaw, the corner of my mouth, the bridge of my nose. Gentle, patient, coaxing me back from the edge of panic.
Then he moves.
He draws his hips back slowly in a dragging pull that makes my rim cling to his shaft, and pushes back in with a smooth, rolling thrust.
His cock drags over my prostate on the way in.
My mouth drops open. My eyes fly wide. The pleasure hits me like a punch to the solar plexus, sudden and devastating and so good.
“Oh fuck,” I choke, my heels digging into the mattress. “Oh my god—”
Ash smiles against my neck. “There it is.”
He does it again. Pulls out slowly, pushes back in, angles his hips so the head of his cock catches that spot inside me on every stroke.
The pain is gone. It’s gone and in its place is a deep, rolling pleasure that builds with each thrust, each slide of his cock opening me up and rubbing against the nerves that make my toes curl and my voice crack.
I stop trying to be quiet. I can’t. Ash fucks me in long, unhurried strokes, his pelvis grinding against my ass at the bottom of each thrust, burying himself to the hilt before pulling back and doing it again.
His hand matches the rhythm on my cock, pumping me in time, his thumb swiping over the dripping head on every upstroke.
My hands find his shoulders, nails biting into his skin.
I cling to him, wrapping my arms around his back, pulling him closer as my legs spread wider, tilting my hips up to meet each thrust. I’m seeking it out now, greedy for it, the fear and hesitation from minutes ago burned up and replaced by a hunger I didn’t know I had.
“More,” I hear myself say, panting. “Ash, please—”
He growls softly, the sound vibrating against my throat, and picks up the pace. His hips snap forward with more purpose, each thrust landing with a wet smack of skin on skin. I gasp and arch beneath him, my cock leaking into his fist, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in my gut.
Ash’s breathing turns ragged against my neck, his strokes losing their ease, growing faster and harder. His free hand grips my hip, holding me in place as he drives into me.
“I’m close,” he warns, his voice strained and rough. “Gonna come inside you, Jax.”
The words send a bolt of heat down through my cock. I nod frantically, my fingers clawing at his shoulder blades, pulling him deeper.
“Yeah,” I gasp, not caring how desperate I sound. “Do it.”
Ash buries his face in my neck and thrusts in hard, one, two, three sharp snaps of his hips, and then he groans against my skin, his body shuddering as he spills inside me.
The sudden wet heat flooding my insides, filling me up, the sensation is so strange and so unbearably intimate that it pushes me over the edge right behind him.
I come with a cry, clenching down around his cock as my orgasm tears through me.
My cum shoots between our pressed stomachs, hot and sticky, my muscles seizing and releasing in stuttering waves.
The contractions of my hole milk Ash’s cock and he curses softly, his hips jerking with the aftershocks, pumping more of himself into me.
His weight drops on top of me, both of us breathing hard into each other’s skin.
My legs are still wrapped loosely around his waist, trembling.
I can feel him softening inside me, the stretch easing, and when he finally shifts his hips and pulls out, the slow, wet slide of his cock leaving my body sends a shiver rippling through me.
warmth and slick trickles from my hole, dripping down the curve of my ass onto the sheets. His cum. Leaking out of me. I’m too wrung out to feel anything except a faint, satisfied pulse of heat.
Ash rolls off me and disappears into the bathroom.
I hear the tap run. A minute later he’s back, settling onto the mattress beside me with a warm, damp cloth.
He wipes down my stomach first, cleaning up the sticky mess between us, then reaches between my thighs and gently cleans around my swollen, tender entrance.
I twitch at the contact, oversensitive, but his touch is feather-light.
He tosses the cloth toward the hamper and lies down next to me, pulling the blanket up over both of us. His arm slides beneath my neck, drawing me closer until my head rests against his shoulder. He presses a soft kiss to the top of my shoulder, his lips lingering.
“How was that?” he asks quietly. His fingers trace idle patterns on my upper arm.
I stare at the ceiling. My body feels like it’s been rearranged at a molecular level, every nerve ending still humming, my heartbeat finally slowing down to something approaching normal.
A pleasant soreness settles into my hips and lower back, a reminder of what just happened that I’m going to feel every time I sit down tomorrow.
I’m quiet for a moment, thinking about how to answer that honestly.
“Well,” I say hoarsely. “I could probably do it again, I guess.”
Ash laughs, his chest vibrating against my cheek. He tilts my chin up with his finger and kisses me softly, smiling against my lips.
“Good boy,” he murmurs.
Warmth blooms in my chest at those two words. I press my face into the curve of his neck to hide my face because I’m pretty sure it would give away more than I’m ready to share.
Through the bedroom wall I can hear the faint murmur of a television, probably Aiden still watching baseball highlights. I lie curled against Ash’s side, his fingers combing lazily through my hair.
I don’t feel like the same person who climbed into this bed an hour ago.
I can’t pinpoint what’s different. It’s not some dramatic revelation or a neon sign flashing above my head announcing what I am now.
It’s more like a door I’ve been standing in front of my whole life finally swung open and instead of finding something terrifying on the other side, I just found a room. A room I’m allowed to walk into.
The only thing I know for certain is that I don’t feel wrong. I feel like I just found a piece of myself that’s been missing for a very long time.