Chapter 14
ELGIN
I’m fascinated by his dick. It’s bigger than mine, but then again, everything about Ara is bigger than me. At six feet, I’m not used to feeling small.
It’s not a bad thing, though. I’m not upset about feeling smaller than him.
There’s something exciting about it. I love the feel of him around me in a way I never thought to want.
I suppose when you’ve lived for so long imagining a partner smaller than you and always knowing that’s what’s in your future, it can be mesmerizing to experience being held.
I’m currently sitting on Ara’s chest, facing his dick, and simply touching him.
To be perfectly honest, I have no idea why I’m so fascinated with his dick.
Maybe because mine is average. Everything about it is average, and suddenly, here’s something bigger in all regards, and I can’t stop touching him. Staring. Tasting.
He’s already fucked my throat once this morning. It’s raw and a bit sore. Yet, I’m still touching and staring at his cock as it slowly grows again in my hands. My body hums with anticipation.
Ara’s hands are on my thighs. He isn’t touching me otherwise. With as much as he likes to use me like a doll in all aspects of my life—including deciding what I wear—he’s been remarkably amiable when I become distracted with the wonder that hides in his pants since being in the flower garden.
I jerk when my phone rings. My skin flushes, and I feel like I’ve been caught. Fuck’s sake. Am I embarrassed about this?
My eyes flicker to where my phone is plugged in on the nightstand. Because the season is over, I have no reason to be on my phone. No one calling. No schedule to keep up with. The only thing that my phone tells me every day is that I’m slacking on my gym routine.
The call ends, and I turn back to Ara’s cock. However, it immediately begins ringing again.
“Answer it,” Ara says.
I huff in annoyance and swing my leg over Ara so I can crawl to the nightstand. Adin Likely flashes across my screen. The Hatter’s defenseman and captain. Huh.
I miss the call again so I wait to see if he’s going to call back for a third time. Sure enough, my phone begins ringing again. This time, I answer.
“The season is over, Adin. Why are you being so obsessive?”
“You’re alive,” he says, and I tilt my head like a dog. That’s a weird greeting.
“Yeah?”
“Dude, I drove by your house, and it looks like a crime scene. There’s yellow tape all over. What happened? Where are you?”
“Oh. My house was broken into, and I guess I never cleaned up after.”
“Where are you?” he demands.
“I’m at a friend’s house.”
“Because of the break in? I’ve been telling you for ages to install security, man.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t need a lecture, but if it makes you feel better, you’re right. I need a security system. Noted.”
Adin huffs. “You’re okay, though? You weren’t home?”
“I wasn’t home, and yes, I’m fine. Thanks for checking in.”
“Cool. Listen, we’re getting together to watch the second round of the playoffs next week. You interested in joining us?”
I glance at Ara. “Maybe. Text me the details.”
“Will do. I’m glad you’re safe.”
“I am. Thanks.”
“Later.”
“Bye.”
I end the call and stare at my phone for a minute. He follows our conversation with a text detailing their gathering for the playoffs next week. Whose house for which game.
Sighing, I set my phone back down and turn to look at Ara. “There’s still crime tape up at my house.”
“I’ll send someone to take care of it,” he answers.
“I should probably go home and clean up my house at some point.”
“I’ll have that taken care of, too.”
I look at Ara. He’s like a damn god. Lying there, all relaxed and regal, with a perfect body and his dick standing up, waiting for attention. A vision of me sitting on it flashes behind my eyes, and my skin burns as I turn away.
Before I can get up, Ara rolls to me and wraps his arm around me, pulling me back onto the bed. “Not a chance, Ellie. We’re not done here.”
I hide my smile, hoping he interprets my silence as a scowl.
Ara wraps around me, and his stony cock presses against my ass.
He adjusts, and that damn thing slides between my thighs.
I shiver as the head of his cock butts up against the underside of my balls.
Heat washes over me like someone dumped it over my head, and it trickles down my body.
“How’re you feeling about having things in your ass?
” he murmurs against my ear. His hand moves down my stomach and drops between my legs.
He cups my junk, gripping under his dick so he’s pressed right up tight to my groin.
His hips rock, rubbing his cock against me along the track his hand provides.
It’s ridiculously arousing. I ache with need. I want more. This isn’t enough.
“Answer me, Ellie. I’d really like to get my cock in you. Watch you bounce on me. Feel you come on me. Enjoy the way you lose control on my dick.”
I gasp, my hips rutting back into him. Yes, I fucking want that. “Now?” I pant.
He chuckles. That sound that still strokes my nuts to this day. No matter how many times I hear it, I’m no less sensitive to his voice than I had been the night he picked me up in the alley.
“No,” Ara answers. “I don’t think you’re ready quite yet.”
“I’m ready,” I disagree. “Fuck, I’m so ready.”
God, I’m borderline begging this man to put his dick in me.
This is what my life has come to. I don’t recognize myself.
In my entire thirty years—fifteen since I’ve been sexually active—never have I felt that level of need, arousal, and desperation for someone.
Why him? How does he turn my body into a shaking mess like this?
How does he manage to make me beg for him?
“Soon. In the meantime, we can have fun in other ways.”
“Ara,” I whine. “Please.”
I know I’m slightly out of it. I don’t feel him move, but suddenly he’s gone, and I’m falling backwards. Ara is there in the next second, and his fingers push into my ass. I groan, my body contorting in a way that I couldn’t pull off under any other circumstances.
“Let’s see how you like just ass stuff,” Ara says. “Let’s see how much of me you can take. Then we’ll see how ready you actually are.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue, but he’s fingering me.
Sliding his big, thick digits deep inside, curling his fingers, pulling them out.
He alternates between how many fingers. Sometimes there’s just one.
Sometimes three. No true rhyme or reason as he works my body until I’m shaking, gripping the base of my dick.
I’m not sure if I want to come. It feels good. It kind of hurts. I keep bearing down, these pathetic, needy whines filling the room.
“Looks like you really enjoy things in your sexy little tush, Ellie,” he murmurs. “Spread your legs for me. Good boy.”
The errant thought that I’m not a dog flutters through my head at the same time pleasure burns in my chest. Like my orgasm, I can’t decide if I like his praise either.
Everything with Ara has been a learning experience.
There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not surprised by the things he does to me.
How I react to him. How much I enjoy all the little things—the conversation, his touch, his voice, the way he looks at me, how he fills my plate with food.
All the things that I feel should bother me, but I love. I love it all. I crave more. Especially right now, when I’m caught between desperately wanting to orgasm and not.
“Look at how you squirm. Hmm. Let’s see if I can make you get really vocal, shall we?”
It doesn’t take me long to figure out what he’s doing. His fingers curl, and he slams his hand into me, deep, intensely, purposefully. Many fingers. My body shudders, shakes, drips, convulses, curls, and otherwise every ounce of control slowly unravels.
“Almost,” Ara says. His voice feels like it’s right inside my head. “A little more. How about this?”
The burn is intense, but that does it. Everything in me spasms wildly, and sounds come out of my mouth without a filter. I’m not sure if they’re words or grunts or maybe I’m singing. Crying? Whatever I’m doing, it streaks through my body with intensity, and I shake.
“Sexy as hell, Ellie. You going to come for me or continue to strangle your cock?”
I don’t think I’m trying to do that right now. I’m not trying to prevent my orgasm. The intensity of what he’s doing to me, the way pleasure floods my body, has my muscles locked. I can’t remove my hand if I wanted to. I can’t stroke my dick no matter how badly I need to come.
“Come on, Ellie,” he coaxes. “Come for me. I want to see what you release.” He shoves his fingers into me hard, and I buck uncontrollably. Am I shoving down on him? Am I attempting to find a break from the onslaught of pleasure?
My orgasm is sudden. Like it’s been pounding down the door and no matter how much I try to keep it away with my hand locked around the base of my dick, I can’t.
Something screams in my head. I can’t decide if that’s my new orgasm hurrah or if my breath freezes in my chest and the sound is just in my head.
My entire body spasms. I feel my orgasm right down to my toes, which tingle and curl. My scalp feels like I just touched electricity. It also tingles. My lips tingle. My eyes roll.
Then I’m limp. The only sound I hear is Ara’s low chuckle, and like it always does, it strokes my balls. Good fucking lord, I’m pretty sure he just killed me.
“It’s like you haven’t come in days,” Ara muses.
I don’t have the strength to get words out. Not even a mumble. Holy fuck.
“You’re going to enjoy my dick, hockey player. Aren’t you?”
While I’d really like to answer, I can’t even blink. Yeah, I think I will.
Ara lies beside me, pulling me into his arms. Once again, his hard dick pushes between my thighs, and he slowly rocks his hips so he fucks me like this. I gasp every time his dick hits my balls, which is every damn thrust.
“Mm. I enjoy your body. You know that, Ellie? Do you have any idea how much I enjoy your body?”
I grip his arm with as much strength as I can muster to hang onto him as he fucks his hard dick between my legs.
“I’m looking forward to making my home inside your body. I can already see the way you’ll lose yourself in riding my dick while I fuck you. Think you have it in you for multiple orgasms? Maybe we don’t get you off again until you’re ready for my dick.”
“I’m ready,” I croak. “Fuck me.”
God, what is wrong with me? I can barely move, and I’m again begging for his dick!
“Soon, Ellie. Soon. You’re not quite ready.”
“I know when I’m ready more than you do,” I argue.
That damn chuckle, low and deep, threatens to get me hard again. I grit my teeth because I’m not ready to be hard. Maybe Ara knows that. His hand adjusts around my junk until he’s gripping my dick. I flinch. His touch isn’t hard, but I feel like I just came for hours. I ache.
“You’re not ready,” he says.
I glower but don’t answer.