21. Bravery reward #4
‘No... I...’ Dylan’s fingers moved steadily along Greta’s hesitant hips, urging her forward.
‘I just need you to do as you promised.’ Guided by Dylan, Greta slowly pushed all the way inside, before performing a slow, tentative thrust. ‘Fuck!’ Dylan breathed sharply, her body moving and stretching to acclimate, drawing Greta as deep as she could. ‘That’s so fucking big.’
‘Do you want me to swap—’
‘I want you to stop fucking talking and fuck me,’ Dylan rasped.
Greta arched a perfect brow as she reached up to grip the headboard, pushing her breasts toward Dylan’s face.
Dylan’s mouth slid open as Greta did as she was told and began to rock her hips in a slow, testing rhythm.
The intoxicating scent of Greta’s Coco Mademoiselle perfume filled the air; Dylan closed her eyes, inhaling until her chest was full.
Using the headboard to pull herself closer, Greta brought her breast close to Dylan’s mouth, while the momentum of her pelvic undulations grew stronger, drawing whimpers and moans from Dylan’s throat.
Still holding herself open, Dylan took Greta’s nipple into her mouth—licking, sucking, and biting—as Greta began to fuck her.
‘Fucking hell!’ Dylan’s muffled moans landed against Greta’s breast, her eyes fixed on the sight of Greta holding on above her head, swinging her hips with a sudden, determined focus.
‘Fuck, that feels so good,’ Greta groaned.
The fervour of her movements increased as she plunged in and out of Dylan, the stress of the past few weeks finally giving way to her lust. Their deep moans and whimpers filled the air as Greta’s confidence, in a part of herself she hadn’t accessed for over five years, surged back to life.
She remembered, with a sudden exhilarating clarity, that she was fucking good at this.
Seeing Dylan beneath her, drowning in sex and desire, drove Greta wild.
It made her want to fuck her even harder, as her own wetness dripped through the gap in the straps, trickling in a line down her thigh.
‘Harder,’ Dylan breathed.
There was still something holding Greta back, a lingering shred of restraint she couldn’t quite shake but Dylan clearly needed her to let go.
To claim her. To own her. Dylan’s need for Greta to cast aside every piece of doubt was unmistakable as she reached down, her strong hands splaying across Greta’s arse.
Holding her gaze Dylan forced her in, hard.
The sound of Dylan’s grunt and the slap of skin on skin was the only instruction Greta needed; Dylan wanted to be fucked as hard as Greta could fuck her.
With the unspoken plea now thrumming in Greta’s brain, she let go of the headboard and pushed her hands into the backs of Dylan’s thighs. Dylan’s heavy-lidded eyes widened in excitement; she was held pinned and open as Greta’s pelvis started to move with more power.
Moans and Dylan’s filthy words of encouragement made the air thick, rendering it almost useless to Greta’s lungs as she grew dizzy, consumed by her own rapidly building orgasm.
‘There’s a pocket bullet,’ Greta breathed, her voice hitching.
‘In the harness, near my clit.’ She momentarily regretted not giving Dylan this instruction before they’d started having sex, or perhaps using something with a remote control.
‘When you’re close, slide your—fuck!’ Her head dropped as a thrust met Dylan’s slight hip tilt, the base of the dildo grinding perfectly over her own clit.
‘Slide your finger in and turn it on.’ Dylan groaned, her head pressing back into the pillow as if Greta’s words were a physical force.
She blinked slowly, fighting to stay present as she seemed consumed by the pleasure of Greta driving into her.
‘I want us both to come while I’m inside you,’ Greta whispered.
‘When I come… Ohhh fuuuck…’ Dylan ground out, unable to finish the sentence as Greta slowly ground into her, hitting her G-spot with glorious precision.
With her hands at the very tops of Dylan’s thighs, Greta spread her even wider.
It wasn’t enough for Greta to just feel herself fucking Dylan; she needed to see it too.
She looked down to watch herself slamming the dildo in and out, incinerating the very last of her inhibitions.
The discovery of Dylan’s hunger for this—for the hardness, the intensity—was stirring something carnal in Greta she had hoped was still there.
It was an animalistic rawness that made her want to hear Dylan cry out her name over and over again.
It coursed through her veins like a drug, firing wildly through her synapses, making her hands feel powerful, and her pelvis thrust harder and faster.
‘When I come,’ Dylan tried again, her voice a low growl, ‘I want you to stay inside me and fuck me as hard as you fucking can. Until I beg you to stop. Until I literally beg you.’
The word ‘love’ had filled Greta’s mind in Leila’s office, but here, drenched in the salt and heat of her bed, it was a fuel.
With their eye contact unbroken, Greta was galvanised.
Two strong hands gripped Greta’s arse as she gathered power from every corner of her body, thrusting into Dylan with a strength she hadn't known she possessed, her knees buried deep in the mattress.
She watched as Dylan arched beneath her.
Listened to her cry out her name in a broken, beautiful plea, consumed by ecstasy and begging for her climax.
Though she fought to stay out of her head, Greta’s thoughts were too powerful to ignore.
As she fucked the only woman she had wanted in years, Greta thought about them being forced to part under the pressure of wagging tongues and prying eyes.
She thought of the weight of other people’s opinions, and she fucked Dylan hard.
She thought about Professor Andy compiling a report loaded with the insinuation of shame, the indelible ink of coercion and safeguarding, and she fucked her harder.
She thought about her own refusal—her absolute, stubborn unwillingness to even consider giving Dylan up—and she fucked her as hard as she possibly could.
Finally, Greta emptied her mind. She stripped away the consequences of their relationship, looked down at the woman she had fallen for, and gave Dylan everything she had.
‘Fuck yes! Greta— Like that!’ Dylan cried out. ‘I’m so close, G. Jesus…I—’
Greta was gasping and gulping at the air that was thick with lust. ‘Turn it on,’ she managed breathlessly, her palms pressing hard into Dylan’s sweat-drenched thighs to keep her pinned.
Greta slowed her pace just enough for Dylan to slip a finger into the harness panel and find the button.
The second the bullet hummed to life, the fierce vibration thrummed between them.
Dylan arched, the sensation bounding through her body.
Greta cried out as her clit throbbed against the soft fabric of the harness, the drenched walls of her vagina clenching around the mounting pressure of her own release.
‘Shit, that feels so fucking good,’ Dylan moaned, the words barely finding the strength to form as the wave, on the very cusp of breaking, was clearly swelling inside her.
‘Oh my… Fu—I’m coming.’ Greta’s voice was barely a whisper.
‘Don’t stop fucking me. Please don’t stop!’