13. Lina
THIRTEEN
Lina
I take Dom’s hand as we walk up the stairs to the guesthouse. My skin is humming, buzzing with anticipation, the feeling expanding with each step we take. It’s almost too loud, the sound of the wind and the roar of the ocean and the pounding of the blood in my ears.
I drag him through the front door. He shuts it behind him, cutting off all the noise with an abrupt click. He doesn’t turn on the lights. He doesn’t move, just looks at me. It’s silent except for our breaths.
“What’s wrong?” I ask into the dim light of the room.
Dom runs his hands through his hair. “I’m nervous,” he admits. “And thrilled. And I can’t believe this is happening. And I don’t know where to start,” he tells me with a lazy perusal of my body, dark eyes stopping at my mouth, my neck, my tits. “And I’m worried I’m going to be bad at this. Because I feel,” he moves into my space but doesn’t touch me, “really fucking greedy. And it’s been a long time, and I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to last for you.”
“We can take it slow,” I reassure him, unable to stop my hands from traveling under his shirt, feeling the skin on his abs, his chest. “And I have a plan,” I tell him with a grin.
He moves even closer, the tension broken, now tangling a hand in my hair and placing one on my ass, turning us around gently and maneuvering me so I’m pressed up against the back of the door, his weight solid and dependable against me. “What’s your plan?” he asks, before tilting my head to side and running his lips along the line of my jaw, down the length of my neck. His tongue darts out to lick a particularly sensitive spot behind my ear.
My hands move down, feeling the points of his hips, the skin there. He’s already hard. His dick twitches against my belly when I run my fingers across the sensitive skin of his pelvis. “We’re going to make out. Then I’m going to suck your cock like I’ve wanted all week. You’re going to come in my mouth, and I’m going to swallow it all.” He makes a strangled noise, thrusting against me. “Then you’re going to make me come over and over again until you get hard again. And then we’re going to fuck all night.” I gasp when he bites down.
I can’t wait any longer. I push him backwards, all the way back into the room, until his knees hit the back of the couch and he falls backwards. I climb on top and start to eat him alive.
It may be a long time for him, but Dom’s a fast learner, which isn’t surprising given his attentiveness and competence and due diligence for everything he does. He already knows the way I like to kiss, how to maneuver his tongue against mine, how to lick deep, how I like when he’s a little aggressive and all but shoves his tongue in.
I can’t get enough, rising up on my knees, pressing my body closer to his. His head tilts back because of the angle and I drag my fingers down his throat, into his hair.
His hands move up my thighs, around to my ass, kneading and pulling the cheeks apart. His long fingers dip towards the heat of my pussy, sneaking a tip underneath my shorts and panties. I know what he’s going to find. I can feel myself dripping into my underwear. I know it’s soaked. He groans. “Already?” he asks.
“All week,” I answer. “Ever since I snooped in your dresser and saw that you folded your boxers.”
He laughs into one of my tits, before he wraps his mouth around a still clothed nipple and tugs with his teeth.
“Oh fuck. Yes, that,” I sigh.
“Do you even own a bra?” he asks, in between sucking and licking my nipple through my shirt and soaking the fabric. “I’ve never seen you wear one.” His finger moves further into my center, grazing over my opening, soft, gentle, and I’m about to lose my fucking mind.
“I left them all at home on purpose, because that’s what New and Improved Real Life Lina would do,” I sigh, content to stay up here and let him suck on my nipples and finger me, especially when one fucks into me, shallow yet insanely slow. In and out. One. Then two.
He laughs, almost disbelievingly. “Is this for me?” he asks me in real life, and not in my dreams. I can’t answer, because my mind blanked after the second finger.
I’m dying. I climb off his lap, just for a second, so I can tug my shorts and panties down and rip my shirt off before climbing back on.
Dom leans back into the couch. “Wait,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “Look at you,” he says, with slow perusal, with adoration. My breasts fill his hands as he tests their weight. “I’ve wondered what color your nipples were all week,” he admits, his thumbs moving in slow circles around them while I grind down into his erection and soak through his shorts.
“Brown areola supremacy,” I gasp.
He pulls me up and forward again. He sucks on the tip, once, before opening his mouth and lapping at the nipple with his tongue, obscenely, circling and licking, the warmth and the friction unreal. I forget about the plan. Fuck the plan.
A finger drags down my belly, back down into my pussy, fucking me in slow strokes in time with the licks on my nipple. I’m thrilled at his ability to keep time, a rhythm. He moves his thumb to my clit and circles.
I’m a little embarrassed at the sound that leaves my mouth.
“Yeah?” he asks, while I’m wondering if he plays guitar or something with the dexterity of his hand and all, thumb circling while two fingers stroke in and out against my front wall, rubbing in just the right place.
“More teeth,” I groan, and he gives it to me, tugging on my nipple and ramping up his rhythm. I’m not all that surprised that I’m going to come so soon, considering I’ve felt like I’ve been edged all week. My hips start moving on their own accord. “I’m close,” I gasp.
“You’re going to come all over my hand,” he whispers into my ear, and then I do, my back arching and spine locking in place, eyes squeezed shut so hard I can almost see an explosion of light behind my eyelids. “One,” I think I hear him whisper.
I open my eyes just in time for me to see him bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. “You didn’t follow the plan.”
“Honestly, we’re not too far off course, because if you so much as look at my dick right now, I’m going to come all over myself.”
“That’s the plan,” I say, tugging his shirt off. “So you’ll be able to last longer later and fuck me all night.”
“Yes. Okay,” he says nonsensically, lifting his hips so that I can wiggle his shorts and boxers down. “Back to the plan, then.”
I kneel on the floor between his knees. “Oh, hell yes,” I tell him. His cock is beautiful, just like the rest of him, long and thick with a mouth-watering curve that I know will hit just the right spot when he’s finally inside me. He’s so hard it looks pissed. It pulses as I admire it, a bead of wetness oozing out the top, and I truly learn just how much he likes my eyes on him.
“Lina,” he says, looking down at me with wild, desperate eyes. “I’m not kidding. I’m so close, beautiful. This is about to be real embarrassing—” his words turn into a grunt when I push up on my knees and wrap my mouth around him.
I bob down once, suck hard on my way up, lap on the underside of the head, tongue his slit, relishing in his moans. On my way down back again, I get his gorgeous dick exactly where I’ve wanted it all week, shoved halfway down my throat. I leave it there and moan.
“Fuck,” he manages between clenched teeth. “Coming,” he breathes, before he lets out the sexiest, full-body groan. He pulses over and over again, hand clenched in my hair, hips thrusting up in small movements, impossibly massive in my mouth, my lips stretched around him, and he’s so far down my throat that it’s easy for me to swallow it all, just like I promised. I remember to look up and I’m so glad I do, watching his abs clench and the muscles in the column of his neck strain as he pushes his head back into the couch.
I climb back up.
Dom finally lifts his head and opens his eyes, his chest heaving, unbelieving. “Lina,” he says, with reverence, my name like a prayer on his lips, before taking my chin and pulling me down for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue and hunger and need, and I find myself close to the edge again.
“We’re back on track,” I say with a smile, as he stands and lifts me gracefully, as if I weigh nothing. He carries me into my bedroom, peppering kisses wherever he can reach with his mouth, across my chest, my jaw, my neck, stopping for a second to turn on the lights.
I don’t know why I expect him to throw me onto the bed—of course he doesn’t—he places me down with deliberate reverence, and I really like that a lot.
“Remind me the next step of the plan,” he murmurs into the skin of my belly, dragging his lips across it, dipping his tongue into my belly button, nipping at my hip, all while his hands massage my tits.
“You’re going to make me come over and over again until you’re hard,” I gasp.
He hums, spreading my knees apart, opening me up to him. He peels my pussy apart with his fingers, just like I’ve dreamed, rubbing around the sensitive lips. “So pretty,” he says with awe. “I’m already hard, but I’m still going to make you come over and over again.”
He doesn’t dive right in, though. He turns me over instead, so that I’m temporarily on my hands and knees before he presses my head down to the bed. My ass is up in the air, pussy on full display.
I can feel him staring.
“You can spank it,” I make sure to tell him.
“Is that what you want?”
“I want you to take for yourself.”
“I don’t want to hit it. I want to worship it,” he tells me, before peeling my ass apart with his fingers and pressing his face in.
He licks a stripe straight up to my clit to asshole, rimming around it once, activating all those amazing nerve endings before moving back down. I stifle a scream. He tongues my clit for a while, almost lazily, while a thumb gently circles that hole. “Fuck,” I moan, writhing on his tongue. “I’m surprised at my non-surprise,” I gasp, not making any sense. “Of course you eat pussy like a champ.”
He flips me over like he can’t make a decision. “A wise woman told me it would be like this,” he tells me, before spreading my knees and attacking my clit with his tongue again with the perfect amount of pressure. Two fingers, not one, enter me slowly. I groan. “That we’re both so competent, it would be crazy good when we finally fucked.”
He slips his fingers out and stands on the floor, pulling me by the thighs to the edge of the bed. “How’s this for competency porn?” he hums, kneeling, before he fucks me with his tongue now, long and warm and thick, rubbing it in and out and around.
“Oh god,” I groan. “Oh, fuck. Yes. Please. There.” His thumb moves in firm circles around my clit while his tongue continues its ministrations. “How?!” I’m muttering nonsensically, feeling my orgasm building at the of my spine. “I thought it’s been years. Is eating pussy like riding a bike?”
The pressure stops for just a moment while he laughs. Dom switches it up again, now sucking on my clit, two fingers curled up inside me and massaging upwards. He takes his other hand and pushes down on my pelvis, right on top of my g-spot, increasing the pressure of his curled up fingers tenfold, wiggling and sucking aggressively, and what in the actual fuck is happening?!
This goes on forever. Too long. “Oh no oh no oh no oh no,” I’m wailing, head thrashing back and forth, and something is very wrong, something is happening, this isn’t normal, and I feel a gush of liquid leave my body before I come like a fucking freight train, my back bowing off the bed. I can’t even scream, I’m coming so hard it hurts, I grind violently into his tongue, onto his fingers, and he keeps them there with the solid dependability I’ve grown to love.
I slowly drift back to earth, only to realize he’s still working me, and my oversensitive cunt is inexplicably ramping back up.
“Over and over again,” he mutters, before lashing at my clit with his tongue, and I almost tell him it’s too much before another orgasm crests, soft and warm and slow this time, shuddering through my body.
I kick him away because I’ve died. My dead corpse kicks him away, and I finally get a look at him and he’s soaking wet, everything is soaking wet. His face is wet, his chin is wet, and there’s a wet spot on the edge of the bed where my ass was, and I’m a little horrified. He beams like he won some sort of competition, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Of course you’re a squirter,” he says, smug and totally unfazed.
I stare at him. “That’s never happened to me in my entire life.”
His grin grows impossibly wider, more feral now, all incisors. “Like I said,” he starts, before I cut him off.
“Fuck you,” I say, dragging him to me by the neck so I can thank him properly with my tongue, so grateful and in awe of what he just did to me. I taste myself in his mouth, tangy and sharp. “How did you know? I thought it’s been a long time.”
“I remember that trick from my sow-my-wild-oats years. Plus, you’re so expressive,” he says, licking into my mouth. “Responsive. You let me know exactly what you like and don’t like.”
I melt a little at his constant ability to read me. His dick is indeed hard again, and I feel it brush against my thigh. I grope around and grip it tightly, working it.
“Please fuck me now,” I say into his mouth.
He pulls away. “Do you have a condom?”
I’m mesmerized by the ink on his pecs, the strong lines of his thighs, his erection jutting proudly towards me. I need it inside me immediately, need to feel the stretch. “I’m clean. And I’m on birth control.”
Dom sits further back on his haunches. “That’s what Frankie’s mom said, too,” he tells me, after a moment.
“Fuck. Sorry,” I shake my head, clearing it of its squirting orgasm fog. “Yes, I have some in my toiletry bag in the bathroom.” I push up on my hands, but he gently pushes me back down.
“I’ll go,” he says, walking into the bathroom and turning on the light. I hear him rifling around, then I hear him laugh.
“What?!” I call in.
He walks back out with a bunch in his hand, but then flicks it down like a deck of cards. An entire sleeve of condoms drops down, maybe ten or twenty, like he’s a sex magician or something. “I thought you were taking a break.”
I refuse to be embarrassed. “I always come prepared. What if I found a hot little townie at the Westerly dive bar?”
He tears one off the top, rips the packet open with his teeth. He looks especially good doing it. “Would you have been able to fuck to The Doobie Brothers all night long?”
“I can fuck to anything all night long,” I say, snatching the condom from him. “Let me have another taste first.”
“How about sea shanties?” he asks, climbing up my body and straddling my chest before bending all the way over to fuck my face.
I groan when he shoves it deep, giving me no warning, because of course he figured out that I like it like this. He holds it in my throat for a few seconds before pulling out and letting me take a breath.
“Like that?” he asks gently.
I dig my nails into the firm muscle of his ass. “Harder. I want to choke on it.”
“Unreal,” he mutters, doing as I ask with unrestrained pleasure. The noises that are happening are obscene. I’m so turned on that I don’t know if the tears are from crying or gagging on it. I move my hand down to touch myself, and I’m drenched again. Maybe it’s a mix of both.
I tap twice on his thigh, and he immediately pulls back, because we are On the Same Page. He hovers above my stomach while I sit up and roll the condom on, relishing the weight of his cock in my hand, then the weight of it between my breasts once it’s on. He rakes his hand over his open mouth, looking down. “Can I?” he practically begs.
“Just take,” I say, before I do it for him, taking my tits and pushing them together around his dick. “Do what you want. You don’t have to ask. I’ll let you know if I don’t like it.” He groans, thrusting slowly, relishing the sight and the feeling while I watch the slack handsomeness of his face, mouth agape, hair in his face, the golden glow of his torso with the tattoos and the flex in his abs. The luxury yacht metaphor still holds, because this is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever been with.
“You’re gorgeous,” he tells me, mirroring my sentiments and filling me with a warmth I don’t usually feel from partners, certainly not Mike. He pulls back and deliberately and solidly settles his hips between my legs, finally listening to me and taking for himself.
He holds himself by the base and taps my clit with his dick a few times before sliding down and pushing in and in and in and in and splitting me in half.
We let out twin expletives, some variation of holy fucking shit and you feel amazing/tight/huge . I’m swollen from all my previous orgasms ( are we at three? ) and it certainly feels that way when he finally ( finally, because it seemed never ending ) seats himself to the hilt. He stays there, letting me adjust, and I think I whimper, and some sort of thing or feeling or emotion flows through us as we look at one another with our faces inches apart, breathing each other’s air.
I know that we’re already naked, but I feel like I’m stripped bare.
But then he moves.
He fucks like he carries himself. Meticulous. Self-assured. Sensuous, steady, in his pace and the power of his thrusts, making sure every one counts, that his dick drags in just the right place at just the right speed with the right amount of pressure.
“Wow,” I manage against his lips.
He laughs, overjoyed, truly thrilled, and I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun having sex.
Dom won’t stop watching my face, attuned to the micro movements and inadvertent tells of my body, taking notes, collecting data, making small adjustments as needed, and it’s frankly extremely overwhelming and I find myself embarrassingly close to coming again after just a few minutes, but he knows that already, obviously, and is already moving a hand down to press on my clit with his thumb.
He changes his angle, tilting my hips and holding my thighs up by his waist and rising up on his knees and really starting to move.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
“Fuck,” he manages. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience, watching the lean lines of his body move into mine. “I’m close. You feel incredible.”
“What happened to the blow job?”
“It worked, because I would’ve come already if you hadn’t done it.” He’s panting. “But you just feel too good. So fucking delicious.”
“Fuck me harder, then. Give it to me,” I beg, and he does, skin slapping aggressively into mine. “Make it hurt,” I’m soon demanding, and he unleashes , his mouth in a half-snarl, and his face, that loss of control on this normally composed and gentle man is what does it for me, and I feel it building from my core, sparkling and exploding out to my fingers and toes until I scream, digging my nails into his forearms.
But not for long, because he tears out of me, and I’m empty and my pussy is clenching around nothing for half a second before I’m manhandled, flipped over so I’m on my hands and knees. He slams into me while yanking me back, so hard I feel it in my throat, giving my spasming pussy something to grip onto again, and one, two, three, four, five , and then he’s pulling out and I hear him snapping the condom off and then there’s a groan and he’s coming all over my ass and back.
“Fuck,” he breathes. And then he slaps my ass and collapses the full weight of his body onto mine, and I’m laughing and he’s laughing and that was the fucking best .
* * *
We meet for one last time on our patio.
This time, I fuck him on the lounge chair after he bends me over the railing.