Chapter 48
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
BAD AUGUST
CAN’T GET ENOUGH
August takes his time finger-fucking me.
He’s telling me how tight I am, like it’s the biggest turn-on of the day. He kisses me harder, my body screaming for his touch. He knows once he hits my sweet spot, it’s all over for me. Because I know how much he loves when I do that for him.
All the energy we’ve built already is back, the air positively shimmering. He’s not even touching my cock, nor am I touching his, my fingers busy twisting in the bedcover. But I feel as if he were.
The pulsing pleasure from the energy between us builds and builds. All of it on top of what I might ordinarily feel being with him. Desire, longing that never stops, the sheer delight of his enjoyment in me, our name on his lips like a song.
I have never let anyone do this. I’ve never wanted anyone else to do this.
But August’s different in every way. I want to feel what he feels; I want every experience of him there is.
I want him to fuck me so I know how it feels for him when I fuck him.
I want to know how I pull those desperate cries from him. I want every piece of him.
He’s working me open, dropping kisses on my chest, my lips. The world’s fucking ending, and he’s not hurrying me. When I gasp, he catches it with his lips. When I groan, he bites my shoulder, rapt.
I could do this for the rest of my life. Easily. So easily.
My August. My only one, whispering our name, kissing me. I stroke his cock, the precum begging for me. It’s such a turn-on the way he’s watching me, dripping for me. “I want you,” I whisper. “I can’t wait. I want you.”
“Are you—”
“Please don’t ask if I’m sure again. I’ve never wanted anything more than I want your dick, right here, right now. Please. I can’t wait.”
“Then you’re in control.” He lies back on the mattress, pulls my leg over, and suddenly I’m straddling him.
He supports himself on his muscular arms, kisses me.
I’m half sheathed in the robe still, but he slides it off my shoulders and throws it to the floor.
He slathers his dick in more lube while he kisses me, then lies back, pulling a pillow beneath his head.
And here I am, completely naked, about to do this.
What a fucking sight he is.
“Rise up,” he tells me.
So I do. My hands find his chest for stability, and so that I can touch him. Anywhere. Everywhere.
One of his falls to my hip, the other reaching beneath my spread legs. He grasps his huge cock. Which I hadn’t thought of as huge when it was mine, but now it seems monstrous. In a good way. And a scary way. But in a good way.
He presses against me, and Christ, I want him. My body wants him so badly. What he was doing to me before… if his hands can do that, what can his dick do?
“Ease down,” he whispers. My fingers dig into him. He steadies me with that guiding hand on my hip, and fucking hell, he feels good. He opened me so well. Got me so ready for him.
His hips flex, he pushes a little. And I still. He stills. His lips are parted, his breath heavy, eyes locked on. “There’s no rush.”
“It’s so big.”
“No bigger than yours.”
I laugh, and that drops him in a little deeper. I gasp and laugh at the same time. And he laughs too, and this is delightful. I’m on the edge of scared and humoured and so happy. Always so happy with him.
“Just enjoy it,” he says. “Just let go and enjoy me however you want.”
My dick’s hard for him again, and when he takes it in his hand, pleasure pulses through me, and my body naturally arches for him. He sinks deeper, groaning, swearing, telling me on his next breath and with his eyes shut tight, “We can stop any time.”
“We’re not stopping.”
The stretch is painful but exquisite, and the pleasure he’s creating by grasping my cock, the wild things his expression does to me, the otherworldly ecstasy that no one but the two of us has ever experienced, all of it takes over, and before I know it, I’m fucking him.
I’m fucking August, riding him slowly, then more confidently, until he’s deep inside me, then I’m rising up and fucking him some more, and it’s the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.
It’s too much. Too much pleasure from every direction. His hands and his lips and his dick, and that pornographic expression on his sexy face. I’m going to explode. “I can’t take it. You’re too good, August. You’re too much.”
“Hold it,” he commands, teeth pressed tight. “We can’t. Oh, fuck.” His hips shoot up. “August, hold it.”
Everything’s disappearing. Everything’s going. Fading into white, into a glow, the room growing hot, whiter and whiter, and I don’t care if this is the end. I don’t care. There’s nothing but August for me.
But then his knees lift. He grabs my ass, and he takes control.
He fucks me so I can barely think, so I can barely function.
I’m nothing but bliss. I’m nothing but pure sex.
Nothing but love, and nothing but August. He’s everything.
Everything to me. All of existence is us, completely accepting of the two sides that make a stronger whole.
His hips gyrate, abs flexing. He’s fucking me harder now, raising his hips up so my knees are off the mattress, so I’m grasping the skin of his chest, bracing myself so I can keep fucking him. Christ, but he’s strong. His enormous glutes flex, and he raises me, higher, higher.
“Oh, fuck, August,” he rasps out. “I have to come. I have to. Fuck.”
But he doesn’t come. His hips buck forward again, and this time he pushes up on his arms too, thrusts me forward, and takes my dick in his mouth.
The cry I let out at the shock of pleasure could wake this entire world.
My feet push into the mattress as best I can, me riding his dick, him fucking into me while I ride him, digging my hands into his shoulders for support.
Every thrust lands me deeper in his mouth, then smashes him into my ass.
I didn’t even know this was possible, and I’m happy to die like this.
I’m happy to die right now, exactly like this, August's dick inside me while he blows me. Fuck, how can this much pleasure exist?
I fist his chest, barely aware that I’m shouting his name, begging him for more, at the same time begging him to end this, end me, because I can’t take another second of it.
But he doesn’t stop. On and on and exquisite and so much pleasure and all the world pulsing, vibrating, glowing, every part of me, every part of him, at one with universe around us.
He cries out, a sharp and beautiful shout.
His orgasm hits, spilling inside me, and at the sound, at the thrust, I lose whatever ounce of control I had left, coming in his mouth, where he sucks me down, swallows me, while my hips buck out every movement of shuddering bliss my overwrought body has left, his pelvis rising against me as he rides out the waves of his ecstasy.
He drops his hips, catches me in his arms and kisses me. Kisses me. Kisses me and keeps fucking into me even as he spills out all over the bed. “You’re amazing.”
“Me?” I rasp, barely able to speak at all anymore now he’s broken me so thoroughly. “Holy fuck. What the hell was that?”
“That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” he tells me earnestly.
“That was the best sex anyone’s ever had. That was…”
The room’s quiet.
Dark.
Normal.
Simultaneously, our heads turn towards the window, and there’s all of London. Future London, bright under a night sky, and between the buildings, there’s the flash of a full and yellow moon.
Everything’s crisp and clear, the normal life of a normal city. And through the many open windows all around us, people, normal people, walking around like nothing ever happened.
Breathing hard, August looks up at me, his smile a thousand times more gorgeous than all the rest of it. “Did we do it? Did we save the multiverse?”
“With sex like that?” I drag in deep breaths, marvelling at the spectacle of him. “I think it’s the only explanation.”
I bend down and kiss his beautiful grin. “Slayer, you’re the sexiest genius I ever met.”