Chapter Sixty-Three
Rylee
Give me your best mid split.
I lie on the bed, propped up on my elbow, my eyes wandering around the bedroom. I’ve never been in his room before. Everything about it feels like him.
In one corner, a dark sofa sits near a tall bookshelf, filled with books and a few green plants that soften the otherwise masculine space. The bed is set against a charcoal wall with beautiful molding. The white silk sheets stand out against the darker tones.
When my eyes land on him, he isn’t looking at the room. His gaze is on me, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of me, and it steals the breath from my lungs. He’s staring at me like I’m the most beautiful, the most precious art he’s ever seen and can’t help but admire.
But he’s the one who looks like a Greek statue with his broad shoulders and chiseled features; an impossible perfection that feels almost unreal. Except, unlike the statues, there’s absolutely nothing small about his dick. My mouth waters at the sight, and I slide my hand between my thighs, craving more, as if I hadn’t just had a soul-shattering orgasm.
“Dios mio,” I say under my breath, my eyes locked on him. “Baby, are you even real?”
His lips twitch into a knowing grin before he leans down on the bed, his body sinking into the mattress. “You called me baby?” He locks eyes with me with an intensity that makes my stomach flutter.
“Yes,” I say, smiling up at him, my fingers circling slowly around the spot that makes me feel like I’m floating. His eyes move between my flushed face and the movement of my fingers.
“Am I your baby?” He reaches for my hand. His finger wraps around my wrist as he holds it up between us, pausing to examine the wetness glistening on my fingers.
My heart pounds as he brings each finger to his mouth, his tongue slowly licking them clean, his eyes locked on mine the entire time. The sight is almost too much. The way his tongue drags against my skin makes my thighs clench instinctively.
“Yes,” I say in a breathy response to his question.
His lips quirk into a satisfied grin before he hovers over me, guiding both of my hands above my head and pinning them there gently. His body presses against mine, his warmth consuming me as he positions himself at my entrance.
He rests his forehead against mine, breaths mixing with my own as my legs hook tightly around his waist.
“How much do you want, baby?” His lips brush against the corner of my mouth. “Seven inches, eight, or all nine?” He enters me slowly. The care and smugness in his voice send a shiver through me.
“All of it,” I whisper, my voice trembling with need.
He slides in what feels like another inch. The stretch makes my head fall back.
“Slow and sweet, or hard and deep?”
“All the above,” I breathe out.
His low chuckle vibrates against my lips as he pushes another inch, filling me more. “How about we start slow and sweet, then go hard and deep?”
“Hmmm,” I gasp as he buries himself all the way in, the fullness overwhelming in the most delicious way. He pauses, letting me adjust as his hand brushes the hair from my damp face.
“Jesus, bebé,” he groans. “Don’t you see how well you take me? You were made for me.”
His words send a jolt of pleasure through me. I’ve never had anyone this deep. It hurts, but it’s so good. The ache blending with the pleasure in a way that makes my head spin.
He adjusts, lifting my legs higher, his hands sliding under my thighs and guiding them up toward the ceiling. His eyes meet mine, watching every reaction I give him as he starts to move—slowly at first, just like he promised.
He keeps up his slow, deliciously torturous pace. Each thrust measured, and each pull leaving me craving more. I grip the sheets beneath me, desperate for something, anything, to hold on to.
“Baby, I…” The words catch in my throat as he pulls out completely before slamming back into me with enough force to steal what little air I have left. He pulls out again and sits back on his knees. His broad chest rises and falls with labored breaths.
“Let me see how flexible my favorite ballerina really is.” His lips curl into that wicked, knowing smile. “Give me your best mid-split,” he commands.
I blink up at him, dazed, but my body moves before my brain can process. I stretch my legs out into a mid-split, almost reaching the edges of the bed. My thighs burn from the effort. His eyes darken, hunger sparking behind them, as he takes in the sight of me.
“Fuck.” His lips part slightly. “Look at you.” The heat of his voice alone makes me shiver. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” His hand wraps around his length, stroking himself slowly.
“Can you hold it like that for me?”
I nod.
He moves over me again, positioning himself between my legs. The thick head of his cock presses against my entrance. His hands brace on either side of the mattress for balance.
Then he thrust into me in one deep stroke.
A sharp gasp rips from my throat as a mix of pain and pleasure crashes into me. This position allows him to go deeper, too deep.
“Baby, are you okay?” He stills inside me as he studies my face. “Did I hurt you?”
I try to answer, but all that comes out is a broken whimper. My body is still adjusting to the deep, burning stretch of him inside me.
“Talk to me, baby.” One hand slides up to cup my face. “Too much?” He lowers his head, his lips brushing against my jaw. “Do you need me to stop?”
My thighs burn from holding the stretch, the ache pulsing through me, but I shake my head. “No, don’t stop.”
“Breathe for me, mon amour,” he whispers against my lips.
I do as he says, exhaling slowly, and my body relaxes around him at the sound of his voice. Slowly, the burns start to fade away, and pleasure replaces the ache.
“That’s my good girl.” He pulls out just an inch then pushes back in, his breath shuddering at the way my body clenches around him.
“Fuuuuck, baby,” he rasps, his breath hot against my cheek. “You feel so unreal.”
My body clenches involuntarily at his praise, and he groans. The stretch, the angle, is something I’ve never felt before. The look of pure bliss in his eyes tells me he’s feeling this as intensely as I am.
He pulls back again, this time a little further, then thrusts back again deeper.
“Luc…” My fingers dig into his shoulder, and my toes curls.
“I’m gonna go harder now. You ready for me, baby?” His lips ghost over my ear, barely touching.
“Yesss.” I reach down, grasping the back of my thighs to keep them in place. My fingers dig into my skin as anticipation coils low in my belly.
Then he thrusts deeper than before.
My eyes roll back as pleasure slams through me in waves. My vision blurs, and the burn in my legs from holding the stretch mingles with the searing pleasure of his deep thrusts. The sensations combine into something I’ve never felt before. So intense, so overwhelming, I can’t tell where the pain ends and the pleasure begins.
“Oh God, baby.” His thrusts are brutal now, precise, and hitting a spot so deep I see the stars. “You feel so fucking tight like this.”
My hands slip from my thighs, my legs trembling too much to hold the split any longer. Before I can adjust, he grabs one of my legs and pushes it gently over my head.
“You’re so damn flexible.” He presses forward, sinking even deeper inside me. His lips press a soft kiss to the inside of my knee.
My moan turns into a cry. His long curls fall over his face, sticking slightly to his damp skin. He pushes them back with one hand, his biceps flexing as he holds my leg in place with the other hand.
Desperate for something to hold on to, I reach for his hair, tangling my fingers in his curls, tugging hard. A deep groan rumbles from his chest, his eyes snapping to mine, something wild flashing behind them.
“Fuck, baby,” he growls, his thrusts becoming sharper, deeper, more demanding. “Pull my hair like that again.”
I do it again, yanking him closer, and in response, he drives into me so hard I swear I forget my own name. I don’t think I’m making any sound anymore; if I am, I can’t hear it. All I can feel is him, everywhere, all at once.
His fingers find my clit, and he circles it slowly. This is the last thing I needed to fall apart.
His face blurs above me, his thrusts relentless, his body moving like it was made to fit mine. And then—everything darkens. I feel like I’m floating, falling, shattering all at once. The world fades, my body consumed by the most euphoric, almost unbearable pleasure I’ve ever experienced.
I didn’t know dying could be this beautiful.