Aubrey #2
He slides one finger into my pussy, then a second, watching my face. His thumb returns to my clit, and he curls his fingers until I gasp.
"There?" he asks.
I nod quickly.
When he finally lowers his mouth between my thighs, my hands grab the sheet and I'm whimpering.
I'm squirming and quivering beneath him, my legs constantly rubbing against his sides as I struggle for control.
"Linden, please..." I tell him.
He lifts his head, mouth glistening with wetness. "You can cum. But keep your eyes on me."
He puts his mouth on my clit and slides his fingers back inside me.
"Cum for me," he says against my pussy.
I do.
It comes in pulsing waves. I clutch his hair and say his name until I run out of breath. "Linden Linden Linden."
He eases me through it until I push at his shoulder because my clit is too sensitive and my legs are useless.
He stops instantly.
He kisses his way up my body, focused and careful enough that my chest aches again. When he reaches my lips I taste myself on his mouth and pull him closer.
His clothed cock presses against my thigh, hard and thick through his trousers. I reach for him, but he catches my wrist.
"Slow," he says.
I pout. "I've been slow."
"Still want me inside you?" he asks.
"More than ever."
He nods, grabs a condom from the drawer, then comes back and removes the rest of his clothes. I watch hungrily, my gaze falling to his hard, throbbing cock.
"Do you want to do it?" he asks, holding up the condom.
"You know I do," I reply.
I get it open and roll the condom down over him. My fingers are clumsy, but his stomach tightens under my other palm. I like seeing the control I have over him.
When I'm done, he says: "Lie back."
I do.
He moves over me, bracing on one forearm, using his other hand to guide my thigh wider. His body covers mine without crushing me.
"Tell me if anything hurts," he says.
Panting in anticipation, I nod.
He lines his cock up with my pussy and pauses. My breath catches. He notices and kisses me until I relax under him. Then he pushes in.
He doesn't take me all at once the way he did in the study. He takes his time, inch by inch, stopping when my nails press into his shoulder, waiting until I move my hips. He's big, and my body still needs time to take him.
Finally he sinks fully inside me.
For a few seconds neither of us moves.
"Fuck," he says. "So tight."
Then he starts to move.
Slow at first. Controlled. He keeps one hand at my hip, changing the angle until his cock brushes inside me in a way that makes me gasp.
"There?" he asks.
"There."
The pressure builds lower this time, deeper, my g-spot catching on every stroke while his pelvis grinds against my clit. I dig my fingers into his back and try not to whimper too loudly.
"Don't swallow your pleasure," he says.
Fine. I let myself literally scream beneath him with every thrust. It feels... liberating.
"That's it," he says. "Let me hear you. Fuck you're so wet and tight around my cock."
He keeps going, steady and deep. When my head turns to the side, overwhelmed, he slows.
"Too much?"
"No," I pant. "No. Don't... stop."
"Mine tonight?" he asks.
The possessive word should scare me. It still has teeth. But he gave me every chance to leave and I stayed.
"Tonight," I say.
His whole body shudders.
Then he kisses me and fucks me harder. His hand slides under my lower back, changing the angle again.
I'm close. Really close.
"Not yet," he says.
"Oh... my... god!" I whimper between thrusts.
His mouth brushes my ear. "You want to cum on my cock? Ask properly."
"Please," I say. "Please let me cum on your cock."
His rhythm falters. "Again."
"Please, Linden," I gasp. "FUCK PLEASE FUCK!"
"Cum," he orders.
I do, hard. My pussy clamps around his cock, and he keeps fucking me through it. This time I don't hide my face. I keep my eyes open and he watches me.
"Good girl."
"FUCK!!!!" I scream.
His thrusts lose their exact rhythm and he groans, burying his face against my shoulder, and cums into the condom inside me. I feel him pulsating in time to my own clenching pussy.
After, he stays over me on his forearms, shaking with the effort not to drop his full weight.
I slide my hands down his back, overcome with the sex afterglow.
He shifts carefully, withdraws, and I make a small unhappy noise because my body's apparently become clingy. He kisses my forehead, deals with the condom, then comes back with a glass of water.
"Don't say anything practical," I warn.
"Drink," he orders.
I frown. "That's practical."
"Drink anyway."
I take the glass and drink.
When I finish, he looks at my T-shirt on the bed. "Do you want it?"
I know why he asks. My defensive little post-sex uniform. Pull the shirt on. Make a joke. Become contained again.
I look at the shirt. Then at him. "Not yet."
He nods once, then gets into bed beside me. No comment. Just pulls the sheet over us and waits until I choose to move closer or leave.
I move closer.
His arm comes around me only after I settle against him. My cheek rests on his chest. For once, there's no argument. No script. No one asking us to look married enough to survive a board calendar.
Linden's quiet beside me. His fingers rest loose at my waist, neither claiming nor steering. I watch the reflection of my wedding band in the window, and the contract language comes back: six months, but a clean, early exit is allowed. It just means less money.
A protection I fought for.
And yet, I'm not sure I want, let alone need, that protection anymore.
I'm so confused.
Well, either way, I don't leave the bed.
Not tonight, anyway.