Chapter 21 Uncharted Waters #2
“Is it too much?” I ask, scenting her hesitation.
She pauses for a second to collect her thoughts. I have no problem taking them out if it’ll make her feel more comfortable—the pain levels differ for everybody—but Staten says something that I never imagined would come out of her mouth.
“It’s hot.”
The heat in her eyes is unmistakable; the way they rove over me raises the hairs on the back of my neck.
Relief curdles my blood. “Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah.” Her fingers eagerly skim the piercings, being cautious not to tug too hard. She transitions from metal to skin, following a major river-like vein that harbors small, pale-blue inlets.
“You do realize you’re, like, eight inches long, right? There’s no way this thing will fit inside of me.”
I smirk. “Nine, but who’s counting.”
Staten rolls her eyes. “Of course you have the biggest dick in existence. I don’t even think my hands can wrap all the way around it. It’s like a fucking hockey stick.”
All these compliments aren’t making my cock any softer. In fact, the neglect and the build-up of arousal makes it feel like there’s a five-alarm fire spreading up my legs and burning everything in its wake.
I palm my bulge with a grunt. “God, it’s as if you like seeing me in pain.”
“It’s not the worst sight in the world,” she jests. “Condom?”
I scramble for the drawer in my nightstand, rummaging through chargers, a flashlight, some pens, and a bottle of antacids before procuring the contraception.
While I achingly roll the latex over my hard-on, Staten takes it upon herself to kiss the plane of my abs, dragging her finger over my happy trail and inciting a shiver that grabs me by the scruff and shakes.
“Are you ready?” she asks me, and I nearly laugh. Only Staten would be worried about the person who’s taking her virginity.
“Are you?”
She pulls her lower lip between her teeth. “I think so. I just—Knox, this is anatomically impossible. It’s like you’re going to be screwing a hot pocket.”
Aaand that’s an image I need to scrub out of my head.
“Don’t worry, Ace. Just need to stretch that pretty cunt out. I know my girl can take all of me. I was made for you; there’s no doubt about it,” I coax, not even needing to give myself a few pumps because I’ve been hard from the moment Staten squirted all over my face.
With an exhale, she readies herself by the headboard, her chest heaving, her belly concave against the cradle of her hipbones, and her legs spread open for me with no reluctance whatsoever.
The sight of her pussy—still primed with natural lubrication and residual spit—is a boxcutter to my rational senses, splitting them apart.
Shit. We’re really about to do this.
Staten’s eyelids slam shut. “Please be gentle,” she begs, balling the swelter of sheets in two tight fists.
“Always.”
I don’t expect her to take immediately to me. With one hand on her thigh for reassurance—and for me, stability—I slowly begin feeding increments of my cock into her wet pussy, noting the way her walls cinch around me with every invading inch.
“Oh, God,” she bites through her teeth, her jaw flickering, all her muscles seeming to clench in a combination of fear and defense.
I stop. “We don’t have to do this.”
Staten shakes her head. “I want to. You’re just—it hurts.”
“I know, baby. I’m sorry. What can I do to make you more comfortable? Do we need lube?”
She huffs without a set cadence. Her screwed-up expression is tinctured with apprehension—every frown line pinched—and her lips are soldered into a particularly pitiful grimace. “Just slip it all the way in. Really fast.”
I’m no doctor, but I don’t think that’s the best idea. “Um, is that really want you want?” I ask as my stomach quivers with enough worry to fill a container port.
When her eyes fly open, she stares at me with a Medusa glare that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is.
Got it.
When we revisit the slight bump in the road, I plow deeper, feeling the rings of her muscle accommodate my girth, a fair stretch of my inches now swallowed up by the seam of her cunt.
She groans into the darkness while tears bleed over her waterline, waiting to smear over the flushed apples of her cheeks.
Another piston that ultimately absorbs me to the hilt—all nine inches of me safely stuffed in her bulging pussy, fitting tighter than my goddamn fist. Eyes half-lidded, there’s a kaleidoscopic light show that strobes in my vision, and pressure flares up in my groin from the extended waiting, needing to be dealt with before it impedes my ability to pleasure her.
“Is this okay? Can I start moving?”
Her face is lax, affirmation trickling past parted lips, her pretty, pink cunt reshaping around my shaft and begging me to supply some much-needed friction. I drag my cockhead against her nerves, rutting into her with a few experimental thrusts and watching how euphoria registers on her expression.
“‘Mmm, that feels good,” she purrs, and as if on instinct, my dick flexes at the sound of her voice. She clamps down each time I snap my hips against the underside of her thighs, my aching balls tapping the bottom of her ass.
I continue at this safe, languid pace, trying to remain chivalrous despite being root-deep inside of her, and each drive of my length has her tits bouncing from the recoil.
What a fucking sight she is—hair splayed across a patch of pillows, belly tightened, her skin misted in a fine sheen of sweat. Even the scent of her liquid desire is more potent, prickling over my animal brain.
My voice untangles into a coo. “That’s my good girl. Look at you, sucking me in real deep. You’re doing so well. So fucking well.”
“Can you—can you go faster?” she murmurs.
“Whatever you want, Ace. I’m the one at your disposal. Use me however you like. Nothing you could say or do would prevent me from crawling back to you.”
Her courage materializes somewhere beneath a tomb of semi-constant anxiety.
Faster than snowmelt in muggy April, liquefying into dew that sloughs off fingers of dead grass.
Staten bucks her hips into the air, triggering a response call from my dick to start a series of measured strokes, and each time I bottom out inside her, her pussy strangles me with the same zeal.
I have to cling to the top of the headboard for added support, the muscles in my back straining underneath a scar of moonlight.
“Oh, Knox. You feel so good,” Staten moans, clawing at my chest, uncaring for the tiny scratches that gouge my skin.
I clench my ass cheeks, relishing in the ache that’s currently lancing through my erection.
Everything hurts in a good kind of way—a necessary pain, like the blister of a burn before you soothe it under cold water.
My fingernails pierce the unvarnished wood of the headboard, and my need to come skips to the front of the urgency line.
The squelching of her pussy is fuel to my unbidden lust, ricocheting off the walls of the otherwise silent bedroom. “That’s such a pretty sound. I fucking love hearing how wet you are, baby. Can feel you drenching me in cum even through the condom.”
“Only this wet for you. Can’t—can’t control myself.”
“You better not. You’re incredible. Everything about you is incredible. This tight pussy, these perky tits. I don’t deserve any of this. Sinking into you is like heaven, and I’ll be damned if there’s a time when I ever want to leave,” I praise.
“Then don’t,” she quips, bearing back down on me, making my thoughts peel away faster than a sports car on hot asphalt.
I continue to impale her on my cock, my appetite growing claws and fangs when I notice the sizable, dick-shaped bulge pushing out her stomach.
It switches between subtle and stark, highlighting every minuscule shift.
Jesus fucking Christ. My orgasm is nearly here, and I can feel my mushroomed crown enlarge inside of the condom.
“Gonna come, Ace. I can’t—fuck, I thought I’d last longer than this. Wish I could paint those walls of yours, wish you could feel me dripping out of you for days after. Need you to know how much I appreciate you. Need you to know that you’re mine.”
Staten still hangs on to me for insurance, the whites of her eyes dominated by burst capillaries from the exertion. My breath is heavy, suffocating my sternum like a weighted blanket, and the soreness in my thighs will surely cling to me in the late hours of the morning tomorrow.
“Trust me, I’m going to feel you for a week,” she says. “But I want you to mark me. I want everyone to know that I belong to you.”
A verbal confirmation is the only thing I need to go off like a rocket.
“Do you trust me?” I rush out.
She looks up at me, pupils as wide as moons. “Of course I do.”
Without warning, I make the executive decision to pull out of Staten at the last minute, flinging the latex off and spraying a thick, long rope of cum all over her stomach with the force of a goddamn fire hose.
My hands tear through the decaying, moisture-eaten wood of the headboard, cracking it down the middle and leaving behind a ravine of toothlike splinters that’ll be hell to fix later.
Her own climax comes crashing down, evident by the way her body arches and a scream harpoons into the silence of the night. When the crescendo quiets and her muscles slacken, I note the milky arousal that puddles in the hollow of her belly, some splattering the bottoms of her tits.
She glances up at the pathetic state of the headboard in shock. “Holy shit. Did you just break the bed?”
“In my defense, it was already close to breaking,” I heave, sweating bullets.
I’m thankful that my cock finally decides to deflate, because I need at least an hour of recovery and snacks to go again. “How was that? Was it…was it okay? Did you enjoy yourself? Did I ruin it? I really hope I didn’t ruin it. I wanted it to be perfect. Is that ridiculous? I—”
Staten cuts off my blabbering. “It was perfect, Knox.”
Oh, thank God.
I’m careful to circumvent the mess I made before pressing my forehead against hers. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You mean ‘this’?”
“No, Staten. You. I couldn’t care less about the sex. It’s your heart that I’m after.”
She tries to sit up, but the aftermath of my Slip N’ Slide prohibits any further movement.
“Let me get you cleaned up. Properly,” I tell her, hauling ass to the adjoining bathroom to retrieve a clean towel. With cotton pressed between my fingers, I sprint back to her, buck naked, and begin dabbing at the congealing cum.
I think her mouth opens to pay me gratitude, but her gaze finds a home on the disorderly bed sheets, embarrassment collaring around her pale throat in a brushstroke of scarlet. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
Completely clueless, I follow her line of sight, zeroing in on the tiny splotches of blood that have soaked into the linen. I discreetly peer over the bed to locate the abandoned condom, and sure enough, the tip of it is painted in the same shade of red.
I let the towel fall so I can cup Staten’s face in my hands. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. These things happen sometimes.”
“It’s so gross. I ruined your sheets,” she cries, her kiss-swollen lips furrowed into a frown, the scleras of her eyes beginning to shimmer with tears.
“Enough of that. You didn’t ruin anything, baby,” I whisper, stroking her cheek with my thumb. “It’ll wash out. All that matters is you’re okay. Are you okay?”
Upon my apparent lack of annoyance, Staten takes a breath, releases the tense hold of her shoulders, and nuzzles into my palm.
The haze from her orgasm is finally starting to relax her muscles.
She’s like a lean, mean coyote showing benevolence for the first time after learning nothing but violence.
“I’m better than okay,” she replies affectionately, her hand sliding up and over mine. “You made me okay.”