Chapter 6 #2
“Ethan,” she cried. I wasn’t sure if it was a cry of pleasure or pain.
Either way, I was in control of it. I could bring her over the edge or leave her right there.
Fuck, my dick was throbbing. The power I felt.
I increased the pressure of my tongue and there it was.
She was over. She held her breath as she came, for so long, as if she forgot everything else.
I released her hands and they went straight to my hair as I sucked the last remaining waves of her orgasm from her. Jesus, my cock ached for her.
I lay beside her, propped up on one elbow, and watched her as she came around. Her eyes eventually opened and she looked at me.
She absentmindedly stroked my chest. “You have magic in your touch.” She said it in a way that let me believe I was the only one who could do that to her.
That only I could make her body respond that way.
Fuck, I wanted her again, badly. Before I had the chance to grab her and push my cock into her, she rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom.
I lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. If I died now, after tasting her and fucking her, I’d feel like I’d achieved something in my life. Fuck my job—making her come like that was the biggest fucking thrill.
As she came from the bathroom, she looked at me and then down to my hard-on, which I quickly covered with a sheet. I was constantly ready to go around her; it was verging on embarrassing.
I moved up the bed, rested against the headboard, and held my arm out for her to lie next to me.
But instead, she took my hand in hers to steady herself as she climbed astride me, her eyes never leaving mine.
She leaned forward, pushing her pussy back along the length of my cock, and pulled my bottom lip between her teeth.
I sat up, grabbed her face in my hands, and kissed her hard on the lips, pushing my tongue through to meet hers.
She responded, her mouth open and ready—just like her.
She trailed her fingers up my sides so lightly, with such a contrast to the heat and passion I felt from her, the way she moved above me, that it was as if those fingers told me something more, something deeper about her.
Jesus. How did she do that, open herself up to me like that? Without even realizing. But I knew. And I knew then that I had to be careful with her. She was feisty and passionate, but also gentle, sweet, and breakable.
I moved my hands to her magnificent tits.
They were just fucking perfect. Natural, firm, not too big, and it felt like they were made for me.
I felt harder than ever. I looked across to the bedside table.
She followed my eyes and reached over for a condom, which she handed to me.
After fumbling around like a 15-year-old, I placed my hands back on her hips and pulled her onto me.
I loved having her above me like that, pushing down at her own pace.
Her eyes left mine and to watch me move in and out of her.
I tilted her chin so she looked at me again.
“You like to watch that?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Tell me,” I said.
She hesitated. For a moment I thought I’d pushed her too far.
“I like to see your dick fucking me.”
“Jesus,” I groaned. My cock was throbbing and I was aware of every inch of her clamped around me.
My hands dug into her hips as I tried to get deeper, quicker.
She responded and moved with me to speed up her rhythm and pressed her nails into my shoulders as her head fell back.
God, she was so sexy. I was going to make her come again.
I wasn’t sure if it was the feeling of fucking her or watching her getting fucked, but I wasn’t going to last long.
Not breaking our perfect movements, I reached down and my thumb found her clitoris.
Instinctively, she backed away and I tried to hold her in place.
“No,” she gasped.
“Yes, baby. Let me make you come.”
“I can’t, not again.”
“You can and you will.” And I flipped her to her back and drove into her.
“Ethan. Please. Harder.”
That was it. I was done for. I pushed my thumb back to her clitoris and roughly rounded the bag of nerves as I kept up my rhythm.
Her hips tilted up to meet my hand and my dick, driving me harder into her, just as she wanted.
I felt my orgasm begin to rumble at the base of my spine.
I kept my eyes open, wanting to see it on her face as well.
Just a split second later, there it was, her eyes shut lazily, I felt her breathing stop, and I relaxed and allowed my climax to take me over.
I collapsed on top of her, totally spent and totally needing more from her.
I could fuck her forever. What?
I pulled out and went into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. I needed to clear my head. Shake it off. I splashed some water on my face and looked in the mirror.
I don’t do complicated, I reminded myself.
When I opened the door to the bedroom, she was sat on the edge of the bed and was pulling her shirt on.
“Are you leaving?” I asked. How long had I been in the bathroom?
“I was cold, but yeah, maybe I should go.” I was a dick. She wasn’t leaving, and now it looked as if I was thinking she should. She hadn’t said it as a question, but her eyes were asking. I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure what my answer would be.
She looked away and stood up, her eyes going to the floor, looking for her things. I walked up to her and drew her to my chest. Her hands hung limply by her side. She was upset—upset with me—and I hated myself for it.
“Stay,” I said into her neck.
“I should go.”
“I want to wake up with you tomorrow.” No bullshit. It was what I wanted.
“Just a week,” she said. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or herself as she unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off her shoulders.
I didn’t push her to explain. “Let’s get you into bed if you’re cold.” I walked her backward into the bed and guided her under the covers. “You need body heat to warm you, beautiful,” I said as I pulled her back to my front and fit her perfectly into my body. “Sleep.”