Chapter 12 #2
Rowan notices my appreciation, and a slow, knowing curve lifts the corner of his mouth. Heat flashes through his eyes, darkening as if my attention feeds the hunger inside him.
Without breaking eye contact, he recaptures my wrists above my head with one hand, anchoring me in place. The other hand drifts lower, fingers trailing along the inside of my thigh with deliberate slowness.
My breath stutters as he clocks every reaction I fail to hide, his touch unhurried, possessive without cruelty, savoring the moment as much as he’s taking control of it.
“Spread wider for me,” he instructs, pressing my thigh outward.
The position leaves my entrance visible to his gaze, and heat floods my cheeks as his fingers circle the tight ring of muscle, teasing out my slick without breaching.
“Rowan,” I choke out, his name a plea for what, I’m not sure.
“Patience, precious.” His finger pushes inside, the intrusion both familiar and shocking after days without this. “We have all night.”
My back arches off the bed as he adds a second finger, stretching me open. The burn fades into a building pleasure as he curls his digits, finding the spot inside me that sends sparks shooting up my spine, and a rush of slick pours out of me.
A moan builds in my throat, and I swallow it down, determined to maintain some semblance of control.
Rowan’s fingers withdraw, only to be replaced by the blunt head of his cock. He positions himself at my entrance, the pressure insistent but not yet breaching. His hold on my wrists tightens, and his mouth hovers above mine, close enough for our breaths to mingle.
“Remember, these walls are soundproof,” he reminds me and pushes forward in one slow, inexorable thrust.
The stretch and burn steal my breath as my body struggles to accommodate his size, my rim stretched taut around his girth.
A deep ache radiates from my core, sweet agony making my thighs tremble around his hips.
Even with preparation, the fullness borders on an exquisite edge between pleasure and pain where my nerves sing and my vision blurs.
This is usually when I’d push through the discomfort to chase the pleasure, always aware of the ticking clock. But Rowan stops once he sheaths his cock inside me, forcing me to live in this moment.
My inner muscles clench and flutter around the intrusion, gripping him in pulses I couldn’t control if I tried.
Rowan’s cock throbs inside me, a living heat that brands me from within.
His forehead rests on mine, our sweat mingling, his breath coming in ragged pants across my lips as he watches me struggle to take all of him, waiting with predatory patience for my surrender.
“Breathe, Ash,” he murmurs, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath.
I take a shaky inhale, oxygen flooding my veins with liquid fire as my body yields to his invasion, relaxing around him. The maddening pressure on my prostate sends lightning streaking up my spine, drawing a whimper I can’t suppress.
When my hips shift beneath him, grinding upward in silent desire, he growls low in his throat, and my dick twitches at the primal sound, cum leaking onto my stomach.
He takes it as the surrender it is and begins to move, withdrawing until only his flared crown stretches my rim, before thrusting back in with a deliberate, punishing slowness that forces me to feel every thick inch claiming me.
The rhythm he sets is torturous, cruel in its deliberate restraint, each withdrawal leaving me empty and aching before he fills me again with agonizing slowness. His cock drags over my prostate with every stroke, sending jolts of electricity through my body that threaten to shatter my composure.
I turn into the pillow, teeth sinking into the silky material as I fight to swallow the desperate, broken sounds clawing up my throat. My body betrays me anyway, inner walls clenching around him, slick and hungry, as tears of frustration gather at the corners of my eyes.
Rowan’s hand catches my chin, turning my face back to his. “No. Let your voice out.”
He releases my wrists and shifts his hips, the new angle driving his thick length deeper, the flared head of his cock dragging across my prostate. My back arches off the bed as a raw, guttural sound rips from my throat, half sob, half plea.
Rowan’s lips curl into a predatory smile as sweat glistens on his furrowed brow. “There it is.”
He withdraws to the tip before slamming back in, the force shoving me up the mattress. Another cry escapes me, higher and more desperate, my fingers clawing at his sweat-slicked shoulders as my body surrenders to his claiming.
“That’s it,” he encourages, increasing his pace. “Give me those sounds you’ve been holding back.”
My body betrays me with each thrust, my hips rising to meet him, my cock leaking so much pre-cum onto my stomach that it slithers down my sides.
The pleasure builds, coiling tighter at the base of my spine with each drag of his length inside me.
I fight it, trying to detach, to retreat into my head where I can maintain control.
Rowan senses my withdrawal, and he grips my hips, angling my body so each thrust strokes my prostate. The sensation borders on too much to process, and my hands fly to his back, nails digging into his skin.
“Stay with me,” he demands, his rhythm never faltering. “Right here. Right now.”
The steady, relentless pace breaks something loose inside me.
Each thrust pushes me closer to an edge I’ve never allowed myself to approach, let alone fall over.
My thighs tremble around his waist, my breath coming in short pants that might be his name or might be pleas or might be curses. I can’t tell anymore.
“Let go,” Rowan rumbles, the vibration traveling through my body. “You’re safe here with me, so just let go, precious.”
My head falls back, throat exposed as a sound rips from me that I’ve never allowed myself to let out before.
High and desperate, it fills the soundproof room, bouncing off the walls and returning to my ears as if it belongs to someone else.
My body arches beneath Rowan, spine curving up to press my chest to his, seeking contact and friction and heat.
“There you are,” he breathes, his mouth hot on my neck. “Give me more.”
His hips drive forward with renewed purpose, each thrust stoking the fire in my core.
The pressure inside me builds to an unbearable pitch, and I claw at his back, nails leaving raised welts on his skin.
My legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back as I try to pull him deeper, harder, closer.
Another thrust hits my prostate, and a sob breaks free from my chest. Tears trail hot paths down my temples to dampen the pillow beneath my head. I can’t stop them, can’t control them, can’t do anything but feel as Rowan continues his relentless pace.
“Rowan,” I cry out, his name torn from my throat on a broken moan. “Please. It’s too much.”
The plea echoes in the room, a sound I’ve never allowed myself in our hurried couplings in alleys and on kitchen counters.
Those had been transactions, exchanges of pleasure for immediate relief.
This is surrender, a free fall into sensation without the safety net of control I’ve clung to my entire life.
“I’ve got you,” Rowan murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. “You’re fucking gorgeous when you come apart for me.”
His words send another surge of heat through my veins. One of his hands slides between our bodies to wrap around my neglected dick, providing the friction I crave. The dual sensations of his hand on my length and his cock driving into me push me closer to the edge, my body tightening around him.
“Look at me,” he commands, his rhythm never faltering. “I want to see you come.”
It takes effort to focus, to drag my heavy lids open and meet his intense stare. His mouth hovers close to mine, inhaling each of my gasps and cries.
“So beautiful,” he praises, his thumb swiping over the sensitive head of my dick. “So perfect for me.”
The words sink into places inside me that have never been touched, cracks forming in walls I built years ago and reinforced daily. Rowan’s thrusts increase in speed, in force, his hand matching the rhythm as he drives me toward the edge.
“Come for me,” he urges, rough with exertion. “Let go, precious. Fall apart around me.”
The tension that’s been building in my core snaps, and pleasure crashes through me in a wave so powerful it steals my breath, my vision, my thoughts. My body convulses around him, inner muscles clenching as my dick pulses in his hand, painting my stomach and chest with ropes of hot release.
A scream tears from my throat, loud and unrestrained, filling the room as my climax seems to go on forever. Rowan’s stare never leaves mine, watching every second of my undoing with an intensity that strips me bare.
His hips stutter, losing their smooth rhythm as my body squeezes around him.
With a guttural groan, he thrusts deep, holding himself there as he finds his own release.
The pulse of him inside me, the hot flood of cum filling my channel, triggers aftershocks that ripple through my over-sensitized body, bringing on a wave of fresh tears.
As the pleasure begins to recede, a tightness in my chest takes its place, along with a burning behind my eyes that has nothing to do with physical sensation. A sob builds in my throat, and this time I can’t swallow it down.
It breaks free, ragged and raw, followed by another, then another, until I shake beneath Rowan, tears flowing. My hands, which had been clawing at his back moments ago, now clutch at him, as if he might disappear if I let go.
Rowan rolls to his side, taking me with him, keeping our bodies connected. His arms wrap around me, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other tracing soothing patterns on my spine.
“It’s all right, I’m here,” he murmurs, his lips pressed to my forehead. “You don’t have to carry everything alone anymore.”
I bury my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his pheromones as the sobs continue to wrack my frame. I don’t understand what’s happening, why this release of pleasure triggered a deeper reaction of grief and relief.
Rowan murmurs into my hair, too quiet to catch.
I don’t ask him to repeat it.
Because part of me is afraid I already know what he said.