Chapter 43 Sutton #3
When her back arches, she breaks eye contact, but I don’t make note of it out loud. Instead, I keep pumping, drawing every last spasm out of her until she reaches down and grabs my wrist, forcing me to stop.
I withdraw slowly, placing all three fingers on the back of my tongue and sucking them clean.
The taste of her arousal mixed with the slight musk from her sweat makes me hard as a fucking rock, and I move up so I’m looming over her, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before planting them both on either side of her head.
She’s out of breath but manages a limp smile. “You’re good at that. No one else ever—”
Wincing, I cover her mouth with my own, flicking my tongue against hers. She moans, tasting herself, and palms the back of my head, trying to bring me closer.
“Don’t mention anyone else when you’re in my fucking bed,” I whisper against her lips. “You come on my hands, my face—that makes you mine. Got it?”
“You say that like I haven’t been yours since the beginning of the semester,” she says softly.
“Yeah?” Sliding my arm under her waist, I roll so she’s back on top, my cock bobbing angrily between us. “Prove it then.”
Humming, she guides me between her legs, slowly gliding back and forth along my length. Her underwear is still a barrier, but they’re entirely soaked through, leaving so little to the imagination as the friction makes me harder than ever.
“There are condoms in the nightstand,” I say, gripping the tops of her thighs. “Grab one and put it on me.”
“You keep them on hand?”
“Well, normally, no.” My face heats. “But I wanted to be prepared in case…you know. I got to do this with you.”
She hesitates, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.
I sit up on my elbows, tilting my head as a strange expression passes over her face. “Hey,” I say, cupping her cheek. She turns, letting her hair fall, shielding herself from me. “What is it?”
Exhaling, she swallows. “I was hoping we wouldn’t need one.”
Silence, other than the slight crackling of a couple of the candle wicks, falls over us. My nostrils flare, my cock pulsing so thoroughly, I feel it in my throat.
Elle looks at me, her eyes cast downward. “It’s just…well, I get tested every time I have a new partner, and I’m okay…if you wanted to.”
“If I wanted to fuck you bare?” Sitting up more, I press my nose to her collarbone, inhaling deeply. “You’d let me in, just like that?”
“Well, if you’re also—”
“I get a physical each semester. Avernia faculty policy. You’d have nothing to worry about.”
She nods, grabbing my shoulders and pushing me back. “Then…yeah. I trust you. And as we know, I’m on the pill.”
“Religiously since you were a teenager.”
My recitation of her rambling the night we met makes her beam. “Exactly…and I really, really want to feel you with nothing between us. Please?”
“Christ, Elle. You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” Her nod is my undoing; I hook my fingers in her underwear and pull, waiting for the tear of fabric. When nothing happens, I frown, glaring down at the material. “What the hell is this, some sort of chastity device?”
“It didn’t do a good job of keeping your mouth from my—”
“Whatever. Get up and take them off so I can put this in you.” I fist myself as she hurries to disrobe, settling back over my lap with her dripping cunt poised right at my tip.
“Go slow,” she says, placing her hand over mine to help guide it in.
“You can handle it, baby.”
She scoffs. “I know, Boy Scout. I just don’t want you coming as soon as you’re in me.”
“The faster I come,” I growl, raising up to suck at her collarbone, “the faster I can fill you up, then flip you over and do it again. And again. I haven’t been with anyone in a very long time, temptress, so I’ve got stamina to spare.”
“Oh.” Pink crawls up her chest, ripening her nipples.
I move my hands and let her take over the direction—for a moment at least. She guides my tip in as I wrap my arms around her, and with one firm tug, I’m seated all the way, so deep and snug that I black out for a moment while she drones a low, hedonistic whimper.
“Fuck,” she gasps, clawing at my skin, likely leaving marks. “That was not slow.”
“You don’t want slow,” I mutter against her ear. “You want hard and fast. You want a harsh, brutal claiming and nothing less.”
Her hips twitch, and she pushes me back, keeping her hands on my chest. “Claiming—like this?”
She lifts up, nearly removing me from her, and then slams all the way back down. Arousal surges into my throat, strangling me.
With a quiet huff, she leans forward, looming over me as she braces her hands on the headboard.
I lift my chin, capturing one of her nipples in my mouth and sucking as she begins grinding and undulating on top of me.
Her inner muscles are so tight, so warm, that I’m having trouble concentrating on not blowing, especially with her tits hanging in my face.
I take them both in my hands, kneading and nibbling the swollen, heavy flesh. She rocks up and down, back and forth, using the bed as leverage to really drive her movements.
My toes curl. I abandon her tits, my arms instinctively wrapping around her, pulling her so our chests are flush. She squeals as she loses her grip, tumbling into my embrace. My hips take over, my cock driving into her over and over and over from below.
Holding her waist, I anchor her in place as my thrusts grow punishing, the sound of our slick, heated flesh smacking together so loud that it’d be distracting if everything didn’t feel so fucking good.
“Oh God,” she moans into my shoulder, biting so hard I can feel my skin break. “Don’t stop, please.”
“Wasn’t planning to,” I grit out, using the momentum from her own grunts and groans to fuel my actions.
Her ass slams into the tops of my thighs, and her cunt feels so delightful—like it’s getting more snug by the second. Each brutal stroke of my cock inside her brings her closer to the edge, and that knowledge has me spiraling quickly.
“That’s it,” she whimpers, sucking on the skin she just bit through. “That’s so good, please keep going… I want to come on your cock. Mark you as mine… Oh, faster, yes…that’s perfect…fuck, Sutton.”
Sweat breaks out along my hairline, pouring into one of my eyes. “Shit, Elle, I’m—”
I’m running out of steam is the problem. Stamina is no match for the girl you’ve been dreaming about the last three months.
“Give it to me. I want it so bad.” She makes a strained sound, breathless, and drags her lips down my neck, alternating between kissing and biting.
It sends release barreling up my spine, stretching out past my limbs like overgrown moss on the forest floor. It covers everything, blotting out the sun, until all I can see, think, and feel is her.
My head tips back as I pull her flush against me once, twice, and a third final time, my climax shooting through me so fast that there’s hardly any time to process more than a blinding white light.
I groan, feeling myself spill and spill and spill, afraid I might never fucking stop.
She locks up, her cunt pulsing around me as her second orgasm seems to hit, milking me dry.
“Good boy,” she says, collapsing on top of me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
My hands fall to my sides, limp, as I return to earth. “Woof” is all I can manage.
Her laughter makes our bodies shake.
We lie like that for a while—so long that we start to drift off to sleep, with my arms wrapped tight around her waist and her face buried in my neck.
A strange heaviness takes root in the center of my chest. Something aches within, lessened only when she pulls away to look in my eyes.
She pushes hair off my forehead and smiles, and the ache intensifies. It turns into something bold and bright and completely alarming.
I swallow, clearing my throat in an attempt to shove it away. Now isn’t the goddamn time.
“Do you feel it leaking out of me?” she asks, glancing at where we’re still connected. My mostly soft cock stirs at the sensation, and she giggles.
“Want me to clean you up?”
Her eyes widen. “I don’t think I can withstand another orgasm already.”
I frown, confusion lacing my brow, and then realize what she thinks I mean. Snorting, I shake my head, scooping her into my arms and off the bed toward the bathroom. “No, silly, I meant with soap and water. You have class in the morning, so we should get you fixed up and back in the bed.”
She’s oddly quiet and compliant as I ensure we’re squeaky clean before tucking her back under my covers. I get a glass of ice water and wait for her to drink, watching for any signs of her mind wandering while keeping an eye on my own mental well-being.
Not even my earlier nightmare feels like it’s trying to make itself known anymore, as if displaced completely by her mere existence.
Sighing, Elle rolls onto her side, folding her hands beneath her head on the pillow. She watches me with soft eyes as I slip back in beside her, yanking her to me.
“So how many languages do you speak?”
“Fluently? Just English and French. Un pequeno espanol. Oh, and Latin, but that one’s mostly just to impress my students.”
“Does it work?”
“Not yet it hasn’t.” I arch an eyebrow at her. “Unless…”
She shakes her head.
Blowing out a breath, I shrug. “Ah, well, I suppose I’ll have to find something else that gets you going. I can bake a little. Am pretty good at finding star patterns with my naked eye. An excellent director.”
“You had me at baking.”
We fall into silence again, this time slightly more tense than the last. I stroke my thumb over her shoulder absently, wondering what she’s thinking about—if she has regrets or worries about how our relationship might affect her schooling.
For some reason, it’s never really occurred to me to ask. I just assumed she didn’t mind either way, since she was initially the aggressor anyway, but maybe—
“I’ve never done that with anyone else,” she says after a while. “Not used a condom, I mean.”
“I figured.”
Indignant, she pokes at my chest, scoffing. “Hey, don’t act like I’m so predictable.”
Smirking, I shake my head. “It’s not about predictability. I just feel like I see you.” Lifting her chin with my thumb, I cock an eyebrow. “You know? Whatever this connection is—”
She nods, snuggling against me. “Yeah. I feel it too.”
It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep, her breathing growing deep as it brushes across my abs. Leaning over, I blow out the few remaining candles, sliding lower in the bed and hooking my chin over the top of her head.
Quincy’s words haunt me the longer I stare into the dark room. If this connection between Elle and I is what I think it is, maybe her sister is right.