Chapter 19 #3
I gasp, my nipples hardening instantly under the sudden exposure, and he presses his hard cock against my ass, grinding slow and insistent.
"That's it," he murmurs against my shoulder, a gravelly command. "Spread your legs for me, Trouble."
"Hurry," I beg, shameless. "Please."
He chuckles and bites my shoulder. "Begging already like a needy little slut. I like it."
He turns me swiftly around and suddenly we're face to face. He smears the rest of my wetness on my nipples, then licks it off, and he is rough, savage, nothing like anything I expected.
When he lifts me, it's effortless, like I weigh nothing to him. My back hits the wall a second later, his body following close behind, pressing me there as my legs come up around him automatically.
I have never in my life felt so thoroughly handled.
"Still with me?" he murmurs, as he undoes his jeans.
"Very much yes."
He chuckles, and it moves through both of us, and I feel it everywhere we're connected. He thrusts forward, burying himself deep inside me in one devastating stroke.
"Fuck," he breathes. "Fuck."
I agree, but can only shake my head.
"Full," I whimper as he takes me roughly and I feel the stretch. "So full."
He whimpers, pushing just a little deeper, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. Then he moves inside me, each thrust controlled and deep and absolutely maddening. His grip on my hips is immovable. I'm not going anywhere he doesn't take me. Still, I lean into him.
“So full, but you're taking it just fine."
His breath goes ragged. His rhythm stutters once, recovers, and then he stops being steady about it entirely, and I stop being coherent.
"That's it, Trouble," he groans, hips snapping harder. "Take all of it. Every fucking inch."
The wall is cool against my back and his body is everywhere else and the sounds we're making are sounds I'm going to think about for a very long time in the privacy of my own head.
"So tight, so good," he grits out. "Fuck, Lily.”
The words slide under my skin and I hold on to them.
Then he shifts his angle and it isn't sweet. It's raw power, his hips snapping against me, cock hitting so deep I feel it in my bones. Sweat slicks our skin, his grunts mixing with my moans.
He pins me harder against the wall, our faces inches apart, his breath hot against my lips as he drives into me, relentless, one arm locked around my waist and the other holding me up by the back of my thigh.
Then his fingers shift, grazing down to where we're connected, feeling every slick slide of himself in and out of me.
"Look at me," he commands.
I meet his eyes. I couldn't have looked away. His eyes are dark, a little wild, and locked on mine like the rest of the world has dropped out from around us.
"I've missed you," he rasps. Which makes no sense. Except it does and I feel it.
He kisses me gently, fingers finding my clit and bringing me right back to the edge. Just like that. He keeps pulling me between emotional and feral and I'm lost to him. I give him what he wants, because he already knows what that is.
I come with my eyes open, straight into his, which is the most exposed I've ever felt.
He watches every second of it like he'd been waiting for exactly this, like this was the thing he'd been holding himself back from all along.
And what's in his eyes in that moment is something I know I will remember forever.
“You're fucking perfect like this. Coming apart on my cock."
He follows me over with a few last deep strokes, a low broken sound against my lips.
His whole body shudders through it. His arms tighten around me, holding me against him like letting go isn't something he can do.
We stay like that for a long time before he carries me to the bedroom because my limbs have gone limp and he seems to understand that without being asked.
He lays me back on the bed, still inside me, and when he starts to pull out I feel every inch of him leaving. His gaze drops to where we're still connected, watching himself slide out of me, wet and slow, and I swear I see his eyes change. Hungry. Reverent.
It's too much. All of it. I clench around him before I can think better of it, my body refusing to let him go, and the sound he makes is barely human. His forehead drops to my knee, fingers digging into my thigh, and he stays there, like I've broken something in him he didn't know could break.
"Lily." My name comes out ruined. A warning and a plea all at once.
I release him, finally, and he slips free and exhales like it was the hardest thing he has ever done. Then he lies down beside me, and we both stare at the ceiling while the world slowly reassembles itself around us.
I turn my head. He's already watching me. All those times I caught his eye, only for him to pull away. He isn't pulling away now.
"Hi," I whisper.
The corner of his mouth moves.
"Hi."
His hand finds mine, fingers closing over mine, warm and certain and lazy.
With his eyes on me, I lie there, my body still humming, his hand in mine, knowing I am in trouble.
And underneath that, I'm already thinking about when I will get to feel this again.