Chapter 12 #4
She looks down between their bodies at the sight of his cock pressed against her throbbing clit, coated in a thin shine of her arousal. And she wants it. She wants all of it.
Using his shoulders for leverage, she lifts her hips until his tip is at her entrance. And in a single determined movement, she drops down onto him, taking him fully inside her.
They groan simultaneously.
Her head falls to his shoulder, and she pants, giving herself a few moments to adjust to his size. It’s so much. Not just the feeling of him inside her, but the knowledge that she is finally taking back control of her body. With his touch, she’s erasing the horrors of her past.
He kisses her temple. “Are you okay?”
She nods, but doesn’t move otherwise.
“Talk to me,” he says, worry lacing his voice. “Tell me how you feel.”
“Good,” she says, the sound muffled against the crook of his neck. She lifts her head and repeats, stronger, “Good. I really feel good. And full. So full.”
He smiles at her, and when he flexes his hips, her head tips back, and she moans.
“Ptichka,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “I need you to move. I can’t stand it if you don’t start moving those sexy fucking hips. I can feel you squeezing me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to come before you do. So I need you to move and take what you need.”
He says the last few words with a growl, struggling to keep himself in place and not thrust up into her.
Thankfully, she takes the hint and moves. After a few seconds, she finds a rhythm that she likes as she rocks her hips forward and back. Forward and back. With each motion, she grinds her clit against his pubic bone.
She holds on to his shoulders and leans back, arching her back.
He takes the opportunity she presents and leans forward to suck her nipple into his mouth. He laves it with his tongue, then switches to the other as her hips continue to move on him. The sensations spike through her, like a live wire connected directly to her center.
“Yes,” she says and closes her eyes. “Alexi, I’m so close. Oh god!”
“Look at me,” he says in a rough, desperate voice.
Her eyes pop open, and their gazes lock.
“Come,” he commands.
And she does. Like her body was just waiting for his command, she splinters apart. She can barely hold on as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her.
“Alexi!” She cries out his name, triggering his own release.
No longer willing to hold back, he thrusts up into her from below. As her hips lose their rhythm, he takes over.
His powerful muscles move under her. After a few more thrusts, she feels him spilling himself inside her.
She collapses against him, chest heaving for breath, as his hips pulse up one last time. She’s half laughing, half sobbing as she curls into him.
When she feels his arms wrap around her, she jerks in surprise.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he says, soothing her and tucking her against him. “I’m here.”
For some reason, that makes her feel weepy. She sniffles, embarrassed. Mumbling against his neck, she asks, “You could have gotten free any time?”
“No, not at first.”
“But you kept your hands behind your back. Why?”
“Because you needed to feel safe, Ptichka.” He hesitates, then admits, “I know what I said earlier… But I realized that I wanted you to feel safe more than I wanted my own pleasure.”
She sniffles against his neck again.
Now that his hands are free, the loops around his ankles are slackened, and he kicks the rope off.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he instructs as he stands.
Dutifully, she does as he says. She marvels at his strength as he carries her across the room to the couch.
Still buried inside her, he sits down with her on his lap. He pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and wraps it around them both.
She feels weightless and heavy all at the same time. Confused, strangely weepy, and so, so tired. She tries to push off his chest, sure that he doesn’t want her crying all over him now that they’re done, but he holds her against him tightly.
“No,” he says. “Stay.”
His strong arms envelope her, and he presses a kiss to her temple.
“I’m going to guess that after-care was not part of your previous experiences,” he says gently.
She shakes her head, confused.
“Okay. Well, we’re going to stay right here until you’re ready to get up. We’re not in any hurry.”
“Why do I feel this way?” she asks.
“What way?”
“Raw. Like my brain has been turned to mush, and my emotions are bleeding out through my ears.”
He chuckles softly. “Sex isn’t just a physical release. It can be an emotional release, too. Depending on the partner and the mood, it can be silly and light, intense and overwhelming, or any one of a hundred other things. Especially after your first time, it’s not unusual to feel emotional.”
“But this wasn’t my first time,” she says.
He shakes his head and wraps his arms more tightly around her. “No, Ptichka. This was your first. None of the others count.”
And as if his words have cracked her open inside, she falls apart, shuddering and sobbing against him. But he just holds her, letting her purge out everything. Like a baptism, she feels her tears wash away her past.