Chapter 30 Stan
THIRTY
STAN
It might have started out feeling like hell, but it quickly turned to heaven.
And I slept.
I fucking slept.
The whole goddamn night through.
That alone would have been a miracle, but she slept as well as I did—no dreams.
Win-win!
Honestly, it was the best night’s rest I’d had in at least five years and, nightmares aside, I already slept like a baby next to her.
That was, until I stiffened, in a good way, when it registered she was clutching at me. Her pussy walls clinging and squeezing and torturing me. That was when I felt her fingers burrowed between us, the knuckles rubbing against my abs.
“Oh, Stan,” she keened, hips stagnant, just her pussy and hand doing the goddamn work in a way that had the aurora borealis flashing behind my closed eyes.
“Duci,” I begged, digging my own into her butt cheeks.
The agony of immobility was truly awe-inspiring. How could something so heinous feel so good? I wanted to turn her onto her back, pump my cock into her, fuck her until she couldn’t remember her name, until she didn’t remember the past six weeks.
But I didn’t do that.
The last six weeks had happened.
I hissed out a breath as she increased her torment. Long drags on my cock, a tight clench, pulsating flutters—honestly this was a full pussy workout.
“Cristu,” I spat when her fingers sped up, those pulsing flickers of her internal muscles matching the pace—
“Stan,” she mewled as she came, her cunt so tight around me that she had to be choking off my blood supply.
When I exploded into her, the relief was unreal. I gasped on air, then choked on it as she continued utilizing those miracle muscles, getting me off while barely moving.
The torture was over, but my cock throbbed like I needed to go another round.
She didn’t let up. Those magical fingers slowed, but she carried on and on and on until I was a heaving mess beside her. When she got me off a second time, I gritted my teeth at the torturous pleasure, cursing when she bit me—hard. Deep.
My shoulder would bear that mark for days.
The beast in me purred at the claiming as my body ached from her torment.
When she sagged into me with the force of her own release, I gasped. “I think I met Jesus—”
She snorted then cascaded into a belly laugh that had me grinning like a fool at the ceiling.
But, of course, she’d made me a fool for her.
When she wiggled off me, her movements were a touch stiff but so much better than I’d seen lately, telling me the doctor, if she were still working at the hospital, would have given her the all clear to return to her position.
I eyed her, watching with surprise as she rolled onto her knees and moved to the foot of the bed.
“What are you doing, duci?” I asked warily when she turned to face me, legs spreading wider to reveal the slit that gaped from holding me so long.
I gulped at the sight of her playing with her pussy lips. My gaze flickered between her snatch and the cum that was beginning to make an appearance thanks to the miracle of gravity.
“Tell me you don’t want to, Stan,” she crooned.
Fuck.
Fuck.
My cock hardened.
A-goddamn-gain.
Even as I was thinking that I was too old for three erections in less than a half hour, I sat up. “You’re playing with fire, gattaredda.”
Her lashes fluttered. “Because it’s so much fun.”
The sultry tone fucked with my head, but nothing like what her words and actions implied.
Staring at the slit I wanted back in already, I groaned as I cupped the back of her neck to bring her down to the sheets again.
Once she was lying flat, I snagged a pillow, arranged her so she could watch, then, with her settled, I positioned myself between her thighs.
One foot rested on my shoulder, and the other heel dug into the sheets.
She was spread open, wide and on display. I’d never seen anything so hot in my life. I’d die with this image imprinted on my retinas. Those final minutes where my brain stuttered through the movie of my life would hitch on this moment, bringing me back to here and now.
I slid my fingers through her folds, seeking out the seed I’d filled her with. Her whimper was answer enough, but a glance at her rosy cheeks, dazed eyes, and parted lips that quivered as she struggled to breathe told me everything.
I pumped my cum-drenched fingers into her, curling upward to brush her G-spot as my thumb dragged through my seed and lubed up her clit.
When she let loose a short, staccato scream, I loomed over her, fingers maintaining a steady pace as I pushed her into the mattress, my forearm pressing down onto her shoulders, below her throat, not letting her move, keeping her in place.
She froze.
I didn’t think. If I had, I might have thought that the position could have scared her. Her claws came out and she scratched my back like the cat she was and her teeth, those menaces, were in my shoulder—the other one.
We froze like that for an endless amount of time.
A tableau of sin and lust and need.
But it was more than that.
It was love.
It was hope.
It was a future—she was my future. Everything that she was represented my tomorrow, and a man like me would stop at nothing to protect that.
Even from himself.