Chapter 11 #4
A harsher thrust transforms my needy moan into a yelp, the drag of his cock over my prostate so intense for a moment I’m certain I’m about to come. I drag my nails down his back and lift my head for a feverish kiss
“All good?” he asks in that sexy baritone.
“Yes. Good. So good,” I whine, and as soon as I say that he drives back inside me hard. His cock feels so heavy when it slams back in, and I tremble around it, arching under his hot, sweaty body.
Tristan braces his elbows on either side of my head, and starts fucking me faster. I try not to swear, but there’s no other way to describe this wild rutting.
And I love it.
I can’t call it painless, but each time he shoves in, that delicious ache inside is accompanied by intense sparks of pleasure, frantic lust, and the need for him to continue.
“More… oh God… Tristan, I can’t—” I cry out, clinging to him as sharp pangs make my body twitch over and over.
I lick fresh sweat off his arm, his chest, his throat and twist again, overstimulated yet so needy I can’t bring myself to ask him to slow down.
It’s too good. Too addictive.
I want his touch every minute of every day.
He keeps watching me too, really watching, as if I’m a picture he can’t get enough of, beautiful yet pornographic.
“Y-you like what you… see?” I choke out, flushed and overheating.
“I love seeing you balance on the edge.” As if to make his point, he slowly pulls his cock almost all the way out, just to fill me back up.
My vision explodes in bright colors, and I turn my face into the veil of red waves touching my cheek. It smells of the sea, leather, and passion I didn’t know existed. I want to fall asleep tangled in this scent every night.
“I need to etch all this in my mind and remember the exact way your tight little hole is gripping me. You ready to feel me come?” Tristan asks and slides his hand between our bodies to grab my cock.
I twist like an eel, one foot pressing on his back as I attempt to pull him close, but my prince is his own man. I’m his plaything now, and he will call the shots.
It’s so hot.
I’m about to cry, because nothing should feel as good as his hard cock pumping into me over and over.
“Yes! Yes! Come inside me! I want to feel your hot cum… give it all to me!”
I can’t believe I’m saying that out loud. I’m not a particularly shy lover, but I feel as if I’m crawling out of my skin and showing him my soul. And my soul is darn horny.
“Like this?” he asks despite knowing exactly how to move to make me whimper.
I don’t even answer coherently, focused only on the way his thick cock pistons in and out of me. I’ll be tender tomorrow, but that is tomorrow’s problem. For now, I embrace every veiny ridge, and the way he—
When his fist tightens, pumping my dick faster, I cross the threshold of climax.
My hole squeezes his cock, pure arousal pools in my balls, and I shoot my load between us.
I’m on the verge of tears, still coming while he slams into me ever harder, chasing his own orgasm, and he is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.
I struggle to keep my eyes open to remember every detail. His lips seem darker now, plumper, his cheeks are flushed, and the shadowy eels gather at his neck, right under the prominent vein on his throat.
He’s the picture of bliss when he comes with a deep grunt of satisfaction, and hot cum stirs inside my passage as he keeps going.
I’m sore, but at the same time wish he could keep fucking me into the moss while the moon stares at us from the sky above.
“My prince… how did it feel?” I mumble, pulling his chest to my shoulder when he finally stills. His hair is covering us now, and I wish to never have to get dressed again.
Maybe if I pretend reality doesn’t exist, I’ll just get to stay with him?
“I… I should be… the one asking." He's out of breath, and it makes me snigger, because sure, I'm tired too, but the fact that I tired him out gives me a strange sense of pride. “I don’t want to leave your sweet body,” he mumbles, mirroring my thoughts.
When he collapses on me, his cock does slip out, but I cross my ankles on the small of his back to keep him as close as possible.
Humming softly, I weave my fingers through his hair and even stroke the top of his wing. “Maybe this is where I find my purpose.”
“In being mine?” he murmurs, gathering me into a sweaty hug.
My exhale comes out raspy as I hide my face in his neck, suddenly self-conscious. I should keep it cool, and not show how much I already care, but I can’t bring myself to do it. “I think… love is the only thing that really matters in this world.”
Too much.
I’ve said too much.
I want too much.
And I am too much.
I know it by the way the silence stretches, though instead of awkwardly getting up, Tristan only squeezes me harder.
“Just when I thought I lived long enough to be jaded, you make me see with fresh eyes. Love is the purpose.”
What?
Breathless, I turn my face and seek his gaze, my heart pulsing frantically. “Yes.”
He meets my eyes with such intensity I’m left breathless, and then leans in for a kiss.
Then another.
And one more.