21. Chapter 21 #2
My moan vibrating around his fingers as his hips roll harder, claiming every part of me.
“I’ll fuck every hole you’ve got,” he groans, thrusting slow and deep. His fingers curl against my tongue and I suck.
I can’t stop shaking. I’m clawing at the counter, bent over while his cock pounds into me. He’s everywhere: mouth at my ear, fingers in my mouth, cock buried deep, dragging choked moans out of me with every brutal snap of his hips.
I want to tell him. I’ve been meaning to, but I never find the right time. I want it — to feel everything of his inside me.
So I try to say it, but my mouth is full. I’m gagging around two thick fingers, getting fucked so good I can barely think straight, let alone form words. Desperate, I clamp down on the wet flesh in my mouth, teeth closing on his finger until he swears and pulls them out.
“I’m…” My voice breaks. “I’m on the pill.”
He pauses, studying my reflection. I feel his chest heave against my back, his cock twitching inside me. Why did he stop? Did I say something wrong ?
I wiggle my hips to coax him, but I’m crushed under his weight. Then his deep groan rumbles through him, and without a word he starts moving again.
Each thrust goes deeper, and his mouth is back at my ear.
“Fuck,” he bites out. “You want me to come inside you?”
“Yes,” I moan, nodding frantically.
“You want me to fill your tight little hole?”
“Yes!” I cry as his rough thrusts send my body rocking.
One hand wraps around my waist, pulling me back against every bruising thrust, the other slides up to grip my throat. “You’re going to get every fucking drop of my cum,” he grits. “I want to see it spill out of your pussy.”
His pace goes wild — no rhythm, no restraint, just raw, animal need.
“Dom,” I sob.
“Does that get you off, baby?” His thumb circles my clit. “The thought of me coming inside you? ”
I moan as he rubs my clit, dragging pleasure out of me in every way. “You want that?” he pants. “You want me to fuck my cum into you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, eyes locked on my reflection.
His fingers speed up, thumb tightening its circle. “Oh God,” I gasp, clenching around him. The pressure’s unbearable. I’m right there.
“Come on,” he whispers. “Come for me while you watch. Let go, baby. Give it to me.”
His words undo me. My second orgasm slams through without warning. My whole body goes rigid, nails clawing the countertop as my eyes roll back. I shatter so hard that my world blurs around me.
I feel his pace quickens, turning shallow and frantic. “Fuck,” Dom growls, slamming deeper. His hands gripping my hips so firm I’ll probably wear the marks tomorrow, but I just take it.
A roar tears from him as he drives in one last time, burying himself to the hilt. His muscles lock, his cock throbbing violently inside me. I can feel every thick, pulsing wave as he pours into me.
He drops forward, breath hot and ragged on my shoulder. One hand drifts to my stomach, like he needs to feel the spot where he’s deepest, where he filled me.
“Every fucking drop,” he pants, pressing as deep as he can. “Just for you.”
He grinds the last pulses into me, head bowed against my back. I stay braced on the counter, breathing, but my knees are gone. My body trembles, my head spins, and my soul feels like it cracked open and he reached right in.
He draws out slowly, and warm wetness slides down the inside of my thighs.
He curses softly behind me. I lift my head, catching a glimpse of him in the window’s reflection — his strong arm braced on the counter, face handsome and raw, and my heart squeezes.
Before I can stop it, a sob slips out, a sound I didn’t know I had left in me. Dom moves instantly.
“Hey, hey — Jessica,” he says, scooping me up and wrapping me in his arms. “Shit, baby, did I hurt you? Talk to me.” His voice is frantic.
“No,” I shake my head, still crying .
He kisses my temple, jaw, cheek, holding me so tight I think he might crush me. “Look at me,” he whispers, tipping my chin up gently. “What’s wrong?”
I try to answer, but words won’t come. My breath is small and shaky, my throat tight. Dom pulls back, brows drawn, panic flickering in his eyes.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “Take your time.”
I nod, sniffling, burying my face in his chest. His hand slides down my back in slow strokes. He shifts, reaching for the glass on the counter and brings it to my lips. “Take a sip, baby.”
I do. The cold hits my tongue, sharp and clean, and I pull away after one swallow. Dom watches me, hand low on my back.
He sets the glass down, brushing a loose strand behind my ear. His face is close. I can see flecks of bronze in his dark eyes and the little scar on his brow.
“You okay?” he asks, softer now. “Tell me what happened.”
I look at him — his straight nose, heavy brows that make him look perpetually unimpressed, lips that can build me up or break me down .
He’s so handsome it hurts. And the way he makes me feel—
How am I supposed to survive this when he pulls away and decides we’re done?
I swallow and ask the question. “What do you feel for me?”
He stills. “What?”
“I mean…” I lick my lips, but press forward, heart racing. “I don’t know what this is. I’ve never had a—a partner before. I have nothing to compare this to. Does it always feel this overwhelming and… intimate?”
His eyes soften and his thumb brushes my cheekbone. “No,” he says quietly. “It doesn’t.”
“Then if this is different… what is it?” I whisper.
Dom takes my face in both hands, gentle and careful.
“I was your first,” he murmurs.
“That’s probably stroking your ego like crazy,” I laugh softly.
“Let me finish.” He brushes his nose against mine. “I was your first,” he repeats, “but in a way, you were mine, too. ”
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” he pauses, “you’re the first woman to ever make me frozen with fear at the thought of you walking away.”
I wet my lips. “So… does that mean you like me?”
He laughs softly and leans in until we’re eye to eye, nothing between us but an inch of space and everything he’s too stubborn to say.
“Jessica,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, “the things you do to me… like doesn’t even fucking begin to cover it.”