Chapter 16 #2
His tongue finds exactly the right spot, circling my clit with perfect pressure.
I shatter. "Oh fuck, Gunner, yes!" My orgasm rolls through me in waves while I stare up at the moon.
My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him harder against my pussy.
The garden is silent except for my ragged breathing and the obscene wet sounds of him licking me through the aftershocks.
He stays with me through it. His mouth gentle now, until my grip on his hair loosens.
I pull him to his feet. Kiss him deeply, tasting myself on his mouth.
Then lead him to the bench at the garden's center.
His cock bobs heavily as he walks. The old stone is smooth under my palms, worn by years of sitting.
I push him down to sit. Then climb onto his lap, facing him. My knees on either side of his hips.
His cock presses against my entrance. Hot and hard and perfect. I'm so wet that I coat him immediately.
"Mine," I whisper. Not asking but claiming.
His answer isn't words. His hands find my hips and pull me down onto him.
I position myself. Then lower with deliberate slowness, savoring the stretch as his thick cock fills me. The fullness is almost too much, the burn perfect. We both exhale at the connection.
His head drops back. "Christ," he breathes.
I start to move. Riding him with slow rolls of my hips that make us both gasp.
His cock hits deep, pressing against that spot inside that makes me see stars.
The bench creaks softly under us. For the first time during sex, I'm above him.
Looking down at his face. The angle changes everything.
I can see every micro-expression. Every flutter of his eyelids when I clench around him.
I increase my pace. Watch his jaw tighten.
"Don't stop," he manages.
He's not flinching. His eyes stay on mine, steady and present. Watching me ride him like I'm the only thing worth seeing. A few weeks ago, he wouldn't look at my face. Now he's witnessing me completely. The attention I've craved since the conservatory dismissal is here in his eyes.
His hands on my hips guide without forcing. Letting me take what I need from him. He's letting me use his body for my pleasure. It's protection in its purest form. Protecting me from the version of himself that could just take control.
The synthesis hits me as I move above him. He's protecting me and seeing me in the same moment. Protection and visibility aren't opposites. They're happening simultaneously. He sees all of me. My hunger, my need. And he protects that woman, not some edited version.
I'm addicted to this. His attention. The way he sees exactly who I am and doesn't look away. This addiction runs deeper than want. I'll keep craving this. Keep needing him to see me like this.
The recognition lands without fanfare. I love him. Not soft love, but something fiercer. The love you feel for what finally lets you exist. Love as recognition. Love as finally being seen.
I keep riding. My pace increases, chasing the orgasm building in my core. My pussy makes wet sounds as I fuck myself on his cock.
He grabs my hand and puts it on my clit. "I want to watch you touch yourself while my cock is inside you," he demands.
His grip on my hips tightens, steadying me as I circle my clit. His eyes never leave my face. Watching me chase my pleasure. The combination is overwhelming. His thick length stretching me. My fingers on my clit. His unwavering gaze.
"That's it," he growls. "Use my cock. Take what you need."
The orgasm builds fast. My pussy starts to flutter around him. When it crests, I turn my face up to the moon. Let it witness what I've become. "Fuck, I'm coming!" I cry out. My pussy clamps down on his cock as waves of pleasure make me shake.
He follows immediately. His control finally breaks.
"Fuck, Daphne," he groans. I see his unguarded face.
Not sleeping, but release stripping away everything he maintains.
His expression opens completely. Vulnerable in a way that makes my chest ache.
His cock pulses inside me. Fills me with hot spurts while I'm still trembling.
"Stay," he says against my throat.
I collapse forward. My face finds his shoulder. His arms come around me, holding me close while we both catch our breath. We're still connected on this bench in this garden where his family could have seen everything.
I've done what I've done. Woken a man at three in the morning. Taken him to a garden where we could be discovered. Ridden him under the moon while naming love to myself. The woman in Pristine couldn't have done this. But that woman never existed. She was just a story I told to survive.
This is who I've always been. The woman who gets wet from being watched. Who needs someone to witness her actual self without looking away. Who would choose visibility over safety because visibility was never the danger. Hiding was.
I lift my head from his shoulder. Meet his eyes in the moonlight. His hand comes up to touch my face. Gentle, like I'm something precious even covered in sweat and his cum.
His cock twitches inside me. Already beginning to harden again despite just finishing. "Again," he growls against my throat. His voice rough with renewed hunger. My body floods with fresh wetness immediately. Clenching around his growing length.
Dawn is still hours away, and we're both insatiable.