Chapter 30 #2
He reaches for me and starts to free each button of my dress, his blue gaze growing darker and darker with every one he undoes.
Then my dress is hanging open, and I thank those lucky stars a second time that I had the good sense to wear a matching set of underwear – the same neon-pink bra I’d been wearing when the love potion exploded, with a matching pair of little knickers.
He groans.
“I’ve been dreaming about this bra,” he says, yanking my dress down my arms and flinging it to the floor.
We’re kneeling on the bed, facing each other, both exploring each other’s bodies with our gazes.
I bite my lip and let my hands trace over his chest, down his stomach, to the waist of his trousers. He inhales sharply as I snap open the button and lower his zip. I yank them down to his knees, then he has to take over from there, stripping them from his legs and throwing them aside.
I’m in my underwear with Mr Hottie and Mr Hottie is undeniably scorching hot. My fingers are literally burning every time I touch him.
“Please take off your boxers.”
I have to know if he’s as big as I’ve been imagining, as big as I’ve been deducing from all the various shenanigans we’ve already done.
He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulls them down his thick thighs. His cock springs up immediately.
It is, I’m pleased to confirm, the biggest cock I’ve ever come face to face with in my entire life. I love it. Not only is it lengthy and girthy, but just like the rest of Mr Horatio Shaw, it’s beautiful too. It has a curve to it that is inviting and the skin looks as soft as velvet.
It is also pierced.
“What the Hexes!” I cry out, gaping at the barbell piercing the skin right below his cockhead. “I did not think you were serious!” He simply smirks at me. “I thought you were such a good, clean-cut, sensible sort of man! Does your mother know?!”
“No, Molly, she doesn’t. And can we not talk about my mom when–”
“Please put that inside me,” I beg, “before I expire of sexual frustration.”
“You’re sexually frustrated?” he asks.
“It’s your fault. This whole business has been very frustrating.”
“Fuck, Molly, you’re telling me,” he says. “Do you know how many cold showers I’ve had? How many sneaky ‘wanks’?”
“Same,” I tell him.
“You’ve been…” He growls. “Jerking off and thinking about me.”
“Maybe just a little.” I sigh.
“How do you do it?” he asks. “How do you get off?”
“That’s a conversation for later. We’ve done enough talking. We need to do other things now.”
He obviously agrees, because he pulls me towards him, and with one quick snap of his fingers, my bra is off, my knickers next. Then his hands are on my breasts, kneading and squeezing them, running his thumbs over the tender points of my nipples and driving me wild.
He’s kissing my neck again too, a trail of kisses that leads right down my throat, down my chest, onto my breasts. He sucks my nipples into his warm mouth, nibbling them with his teeth, and I really will expire any moment now – or maybe explode into a cloud of sparkling dust.
His hands move to my waist, squeeze my arse, then slide down to my thighs, stroking the tender insides of my legs until I’m a whimpering mess. Then his fingers nudge at my swollen folds and sink right into my heat, a galaxy of stars exploding right across my vision.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he groans against my skin.
“Can you blame me?” I mutter.
“Oh no, I don’t blame you, Sugar, I’m really damn happy about it.”
He reaches a little higher, discovering the spot I’ve never been able to reach myself and soon he has a series of curse words flying from my mouth.
“I hope you’re not trying to hex me,” he says.
“Anything but – that is, as long as you do not stop!” He obeys my order, pumping his fingers in and out of me as he continues to feast on my breasts and the pressure that’s been building inside me all day, finally, finally, f-i-n-a-l-l-y explodes!
I come all over his fingers, my body shuddering with pleasure and heat flushing right across my skin.
“Hmmm, you sound magical when you come. Want to come for me again?”
“Uh huh! I can’t wait any longer,” I tell him, groaning as he removes his fingers from me. “Condom.” He lifts his head and stares down at me. “Do you have one?”
“I do … I think. In my wallet somewhere…” He swings his gaze towards his discarded clothes on the floor and goes to pull away. I stop him. I don’t have the patience to wait while he goes scrabbling around for protection that may or may not be in his pocket.
“Wait here.”
“Gladly,” he tells me, his lust-filled eyes skating all over my naked body.
I scurry over the bed, hoping I manage it in at least a semi-seductive manner, open the drawer of my bedside table and rummage around. I thank those same lucky stars all over again when I find a condom at the back of the drawer. I pluck it out and scurry back over to him.
I offer it up, but he shakes his head.
“You do the honours, please.”
I lift an eyebrow but don’t argue, ripping the wrapper open with my teeth and gliding the rubber down his humongous length, carefully over his piercing, feeling the tenderness of his skin as I do. I roll the sheath all the way down to the base. Then we’re looking at each other again.
“Molly,” he says. “You’re the most beautiful–”
I press my fingers to his lips. “No more talking. Just doing.”
Then I push this mountain of a man down onto the mattress, swing my leg over his waist, and straddle him.
“Shit,” he moans, as I smile down at him.
Not letting my eyes leave his, I sink down onto him, slowly, both of us groaning with ecstasy, my nails sinking into the flesh of his hard stomach and his hands gripping firmly at my waist. The man is big, and I can’t take him all in one go.
I have to wait a moment, catching my breath as he whispers words of encouragement.
Then I sink a little further, and a little further, until he’s seated inside me all the way to the hilt.
“Well, fuck me,” he says, lifting his head from the pillow to admire me. “That is some view.”
“Is there any way it could be improved?” I say, tossing my hair over my shoulder.
“I think you know there is.”
“No idea, really.” I drum my fingers on his stomach. His cock twitches impatiently inside me.
“Move, Molly Eccleston,” he growls, in such a commanding voice that I nearly come all over again.
I lift languidly up onto my knees. I want to take this slowly.
I want to tease him. I want to make him suffer like he’s been making me suffer.
But I’m wound up so tight that I’m incapable of doing so.
His cock – that damn piercing – rubs against every tender, sensitive part inside me and I cry out before slamming back down on him.
He grunts, his eyes sparking. “Molly, you’re the most–”
But I lean forward and press my fingers against his lips again.
Then I’m bouncing on him, up and down, up and down, his strong arms guiding me, supporting me, his hips lifting to meet mine every time we collide.
My rickety old bed squeaks and squeals in protest, the headboard knocking against the wall, and the sounds from our own mouths are no quieter.
My gaze never leaves his face. He is the most beautiful man I’ve ever got naked with.
He’s probably the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life.
I can’t believe he’s lying naked in my bed and I’m riding him like my life depended on it, like I’m making a very dirty dream come true. Which I most definitely am!
One of his hands slides round my waist and he dips his thumb between my folds, pressing against my stiff nub.
Then I probably am the very embodiment of chaos and mayhem and bedlam.
My skin is slick with sweat, my hair flying in all directions, my mouth streaming a string of incoherent words. I’m bouncing like a woman possessed.
Then it all explodes in a glorious eruption of ecstasy, bliss, and pleasure.
Horatio’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of me, riding him like a cowgirl at a rodeo. I don’t think he’s that far behind me. The sounds he’s making are delicious, his cock twitching inside me.
But he doesn’t. The man has magical lasting powers. To my astonishment, he flips me over and pins me down on the bed. He lifts one knee, presses it into my chest, and thrusts into me. I finally understand what it means to be pounded into a mattress.
I’m still dizzy with my orgasms, aftershocks rippling through me, and I smile at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, tickling my fingers against his skin.
“Molly, I… Molly, I… Molly, I…”
He collapses over me with a long, drawn-out groan, and the two of us lie marooned in the middle of my bed, sweaty, breathless, elated.
“Okay?” he asks me, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide.
“Absolutely, entirely, and completely,” I say dreamily.
He bends his head down, our eyes still connected, his lips brushing against mine, and then–
Pop!