50
Aubrey
The minute we step through Trent’s front door, it’s like a switch flips. His jacket hits the floor first, then my hoodie, both forgotten in a trail behind us as our bodies crash together again.
Being at The Rig was pure torture. The second I jumped into his arms and tasted his mouth, something inside me snapped. Every part of me has been buzzing ever since—tight, aching, desperate for a touch only he can give.
Trent backs me against the wall, his breath hot against my neck as he fumbles with the hem of my shirt. “Fuck,” he pants, voice rough and breaking, “I need you naked. Right the fuck now.”
My top is over my head in a blur, tossed somewhere behind him, and he strips off his own just as fast. His chest is warm and solid against mine, the contact making my breath stutter.
I trail my hands down from his shoulders, over the hard lines of muscle along his chest, feeling every twitch beneath my fingertips. When I reach his belt buckle, I curl my fingers around the leather and tug him closer with a slow, teasing pull before I start to undo it.
Trent groans—low and guttural—and braces one hand on the wall beside my head, the other locking around my waist to pull me flush against him. “Do it, baby,” he rasps, the words hot against my mouth. “Take what’s yours.”
I pop the button on his jeans and lower the zipper, then slide my hand down the front, palming him through his boxers.
His hips rock toward me, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. “Fuuuuck,” he breathes, voice shaking, every muscle in him coiled tight with need.
I slide my hands up his torso again, feeling him tremble under my touch, and he captures my face between his palms, kissing me with a hunger that steals the air from my lungs.
“Upstairs,” he murmurs against my lips, voice strained. “Before I lose my mind right here.”
He takes my hand, threading our fingers together, and steps backward toward the stairs, eyes locked on me like he’s afraid to blink.
We don’t make it up the stairs gracefully—more like two people tripping over each other, breathless, laughing, stealing kisses between every step. The world shrinks until all that exists is him, his hands on my skin, his body pressed against mine.
The second the door clicks shut behind us, he’s on me, pinning me to it.
His lips trace fire along my neck, nipping and sucking down my collarbone and back up again, until his hot breath brushes my ear.
“I want to take my time with you. I want you begging for more, moaning my name. I want to fill every inch of you… over and over.” He rasps as his fingers find their way beneath my jeans, slipping into my panties with deliberate, confident pressure.
I gasp the moment he connects with my clit. “Oh fuck… please.”
“Already begging and I’ve barely even started.” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.
His fingers dip lower, teasing before slipping inside me, curling just right to make my legs go weak beneath him.
“Fuck, Bree… you’re dripping for me,” he groans, voice rough with need.
Unable to stop myself, I slide my hand down the front of his boxers, wrapping around him, moving slowly, savoring the way his groans vibrate against my skin.
“Your dick feels so good in my hand… so hard, so smooth,” I murmur. “I bet I could make you come just from this.”
“You know you could,” he growls, “but you don’t want that, do you, pretty girl? You want me to fill this tight little cunt with all my cum, don’t you?”
“Yes… fuck,” I gasp.
“So fucking close, aren’t you, baby? Just the thought of me filling you up makes this pussy tighten around my fingers. Be a good girl and come for me… and I’ll let you have it. It’s all yours anyway.”
His fingers move inside me with perfect precision, while his thumb rubs my clit, dragging me toward the edge. My hand keeps stroking him slowly, savoring every groan, every shudder—but when he grips my throat and plunges his tongue into my mouth, the world falls away.
My body shatters under the pleasure. “Fuck… I’m coming…”
My body trembles as my orgasm crashes through me, fingers clutching him tight, nails digging into the heat of his skin.
He doesn’t let up, his lips still pressing against mine, his tongue teasing, his hands owning every inch of me.
Every groan, every gasp, every shiver is magnified, and I’m lost in the blur of sensation.
He shifts slightly, his body pressing harder against mine, filling every inch of space with heat and power. His fingers slide inside me again—slow, deliberate—drawing out every shudder, every broken whimper still clinging to the edge of my orgasm.
“So pretty,” he rasps, pulling his hand from my jeans. He lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes locked on mine as he does it. With his other hand, he frees my hand from his boxers too. “And you taste so fucking good.”
Before I can breathe, Trent’s arms are around me, lifting me with an effortless strength and carrying me to the bed. The world tilts, soft sheets brushing my back as he lays me down.
“I need these off, baby,” he says, gripping the waistband of my jeans.
I can only nod, still dazed from the intensity, words lost somewhere between my breath and my heartbeat. He slides my jeans and panties down in one smooth motion, tossing them aside. My bra follows, hitting the floor on top of the pile.
Trent’s hands roam over me as if he’s mapping every inch, memorizing my skin with slow, reverent strokes.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick and steady. “Every inch of you.”
His thumb traces the line of my hip, his palm flattening against my stomach as he looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time—and like he’s known me forever.
“Take your clothes off too. I want to see all of you,” I whimper, my breath catching as his thumbs brush over my nipples.
Trent rises from the bed, eyes dark, and strips—first his jeans, then his boxers—until he’s completely bare to me. His cock is hard and long, thick and flushed, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip making my mouth water.
I watch as he wraps his hand around himself, giving a few slow, deliberate pumps. A low ache blooms deep inside me when he drags his thumb over the tip, his eyes locked on mine as I bite my lip desperate for him.
“Fuck… don’t look at me like that,” he mutters.
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to fuck you hard and fast.”
“What if that’s exactly what I want?”
His jaw tics. “You know you can have anything you want, whenever you want it… but tonight?” He moves slowly, crawling back onto the bed, settling between my legs with intention. “Tonight I want to fuck you slow.”
His voice drops low, the kind of tone that vibrates through my bones. “I want to feed you my cock inch by inch until you’re so fucking full you don’t know how you ever lived without me. I want your pussy to remember exactly who she belongs to… who makes her wet.”
He grips the base of his cock and drags it through my slick folds, the head bumping my clit in a way that steals my breath. Then he lifts both my legs, placing them over his shoulders, bending me open for him.
“I’m going to be so fucking deep in this pussy,” he groans.
“Please…” I whimper as he notches himself at my entrance. Just like he promised, he pushes in slowly—only the tip—and it’s enough to make my vision blur, pleasure spiking so hard I nearly come again from that alone.
“Strangling my cock already, baby,” he growls, voice thick with restraint. “Let me in.” His thumb finds my clit, tracing slow, deliberate circles as he nudges himself another inch inside, then pulls back out, testing, teasing.
“Please… please,” I beg, breath ragged.
“Patience, baby,” he groans, sinking in again—deeper this time. The head of his cock brushes that magic spot inside me, and my hips lift on their own, drawn toward him.
“There you go,” he murmurs, tilting my legs back against my body so he can reach every inch of me. His eyes lock on the place where we’re joined, dark with hunger and awe. “Jesus… I wish you could see how fucking good you look taking me, Bree. Your pussy is stretching perfectly. Fuck.”
He thrusts again, deeper this time, slow and deliberate, and my body arches with every inch, every nerve screaming alive.
“Oh fuck, Trent… please,” I beg, my voice trembling.
His hand clamps around my chin, tilting my face as he sinks in and out of me, each movement deliberate, leaving me trembling. I can feel every ridge, every vein of him as he fucks me slow, each stroke lighting me on fire.
His thumb drifts over my bottom lip before slipping into my mouth. I suck hard, watching his eyes darken as he groans, “Tell me what you need, pretty girl.”
I nip the tip of his thumb, then release it, pressing my hips into him, needing more. “I need you to make me yours.”
As if my words ignite him, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt one fierce, powerful motion. I cry out his name, my back arching as he grips my hips, my legs locked over his shoulders, driving into me with relentless force, each thrust more consuming than the last.
“Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop,” I moan, clutching the sheets.
“You couldn’t make me stop even if there was a gun to my head,” he growls, eyes dark and fixed on mine.
“You’re so deep… fuck… it feels so good.” My muscles clench around him, every pulse of his cock and the perfect pressure of his thumb on my clit driving me closer, inch by inch, to the edge.
“Jesus, Bree… you’re squeezing me so tight. Do you need to come, baby?”
“God… yes,” I gasp, my body trembling in anticipation, every nerve screaming for release.
“Then come for me," he growls, his voice low, rough, commanding. “Let go. I want to feel you shatter around me.”
I can’t hold back any longer. My body trembles, hips bucking involuntarily as my orgasm rips through me like a storm, every shuddering pulse squeezing him, dragging him deeper into me. My cries fill the room, and I can feel him stiffen, his growls mingling with mine as he drives us both higher.
His hands tighten on my hips, pulling me flush against him as he moves with me, every thrust sending us further into that consuming, electric heat. My vision blurs, senses reduced to him, to the fire in my veins, to the tremor of my body wrapped around his.
“That’s my girl,” he groans, voice rough, almost desperate. “Fuck… your pussy feels so good. So. Fucking. Good.”
As he fucks me through the aftershocks, I lift a hand to cup his face, pressing my lips to his forehead. “I love you,” I whisper. “Now fill me up, baby.”
“Oh fuck. Fuck!” His body shudders, each thrust driving him deeper as he floods me with his cum, making my body tremble uncontrollably. His moans of my name hang in the air, raw, ragged, and achingly beautiful.
Breathless, I slowly slide my legs off his shoulders and pull him close, curling him against me.
His head rests in the crook of my neck, chest rising and falling against mine, his warmth settling into me.
His cock softens inside me, but the heat between us lingers, a quiet echo of everything we’ve just shared.
The room feels still, suspended, as if the rest of the world has melted away, leaving only us tangled together—hearts racing, bodies humming, breaths mingling.
“I love you so much, Bree,” he murmurs, voice rough but tender. “Thank you for coming back to me.”
I press a soft kiss to his temple, feeling the weight of it all in his arms. “Thank you… for being so patient.”
He nuzzles closer, fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. “I’d wait a lifetime for you,” he whispers.
And in that quiet, tangled warmth, I know—no matter what comes next—we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.
Together.
The End