Chapter 11 #2
I laugh breathlessly, the sound breaking into a moan as he increases the pressure. "Wouldn't you have liked that."
"Believe me," he says, looking down at me, his eyes so dark they're almost black, "I really would have. I've been thinking about this for weeks."
Then he pulls back suddenly, sitting up and taking the toy with him. I make a sound of protest that's embarrassingly desperate.
He's kneeling between my legs now, looking down at me, and I feel vulnerable like this, completely laid out in front of him.
I can hardly stop my mouth from watering at the sight of him—his cock hard and thick, curving slightly up toward his stomach.
His muscles are defined, skin tanned from the California sun.
He's beautiful and I hate how much I notice it.
He hands me the rose toy, still buzzing in his palm.
"I want to watch you," he says simply.
I gulp and slowly take it from him, my fingers brushing his.
I bring it down between my legs, pressing the buzzing silicone petals against my clit, and gasp at the sensation.
There's something about vulnerability in sex that I've never been comfortable with—it's why I don't like men going down on me, why I usually prefer positions where I have some control—and being spread out in front of Alex like this, using my own toy on myself while he watches, I feel exposed.
But some part of me can't help herself. The way he's looking at me like I'm the most fascinating thing he's ever seen, how turned on I am, how my body is screaming at me to just let go for once.
And maybe it wouldn't be so bad if Alex really saw me after all.
But that's too much to think about right now, so I don't. I press the rose harder against my clit, gasping as I work myself, my hips moving in small circles. I clench the bed sheets with my other hand, twisting the fabric between my fingers.
Alex watches my hand move as I pleasure myself, his eyes tracking every movement, and I can see his cock twitch, another bead of precum forming at the tip and sliding down the shaft. He reaches down and wraps his hand around himself, stroking slowly.
I press harder and harder, my breath coming faster, panting now. The vibrations are intense, almost too much, but I can feel the pleasure building already, coiling tight in my core.
"Oh, oh!" I can't help the sounds escaping me, high and desperate and completely uncontrolled.
He grips his cock tighter and starts stroking himself with more purpose as he watches me fall apart, his breathing getting heavier.
"Fuck, Isabelle," he groans "You're so fucking beautiful like this. I could watch you all night."
I can't form words, my brain is too scrambled, so I keep eye contact, holding his gaze even though it feels like being seen straight through to my bones.
Why haven't I been masturbating in front of someone before?
It's so much hotter when a man is above you jerking off to the sight of you coming undone. This is a revelation.
"Make yourself come, Isabelle," he says, his voice is commanding and I clench around nothing. "I want to see it."
"I, er," I falter, suddenly self-conscious. "Don't you want to do that together?"
He smiles, slow and knowing. "We will. I plan on making you come multiple times tonight. This is just the first one."
I've never been so turned on in my entire life, and that's terrifying. In an effort to hide how much of a hold he has on me right now, I throw on what I hope is a look of casual indifference.
"Well unfortunately for you, I get too sensitive after one orgasm, so it's not really possible to have multiple. It's just how my body works. Sorry you're going to miss out..."
I ease up slightly on the rose toy, teasing myself, hoping he takes the bait and grabs it to properly fuck me himself. But he just smiles at me, slow and devastating, the dimple appearing in his cheek.
"We'll see about that," he says, his tone making it clear he's taking that as a challenge. "Now fuck yourself for me."
I gasp and work myself with the rose more deliberately, building the pleasure more and more. He strokes himself slowly, matching my rhythm, not rushing toward his own completion, just enjoying the show.
His gaze bores through me like a physical heat, intense and unwavering, and I want to look away, to not be so completely seen, but it's as though he's cast a spell on me and all I can do is writhe in pleasure under his gaze.
The waves of pleasure become too much, rolling through me in increasingly intense pulses.
"Oh fuck!" I cry out, my whole body spasming. The orgasm crashes through me in waves, one after another, and I shake, my thighs trembling, my pussy clenching rhythmically around nothing.
Then Alex drops the rest of the distance down on top of me, bracing himself on his forearms so he doesn't crush me, and kisses me hard, swallowing my cries. Everything lights up, hypersensitive now.
My pussy is still trembling from the orgasm, sensitive and almost raw, but his fingers find my entrance and slide in through the wet and it feels amazing and overwhelming all at once. I'm slick and swollen and so sensitive that even his fingers feel like too much and not enough at the same time.
He pulls his fingers out slowly, and I watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he wipes my wetness all over his cock, coating himself thoroughly, using my slickness as lubricant.
The sight is so hot that I moan just watching him.
Then he steps back off the bed, standing at the edge, still stroking himself with my wetness coating his hand.
"See," he says, grinning down at me like he knows exactly what he's doing to me. “Now you'll see what I mean when I give you round two. You're going to come on my cock, Isabelle."
"Oh really?" I grab his forearm and yank, using his momentum against him, and somehow manage to swap our positions.
He falls back onto the bed with a surprised laugh and I climb on top of him, straddling his hips.
I remove the rose toy and toss it aside somewhere, hearing it buzz against the floor.
I grind my wet pussy along his cock, sliding back and forth, coating him even more, and he groans beneath me.
"Fuck!" He grips my hips hard, his fingers digging into my flesh as I tease him, sliding and grinding without letting him inside yet.
"Not so confident now, huh?" I say breathlessly, and he smiles up at me, looking like every fantasy I've ever had.
I rise up on my knees, reaching down to grab his cock. It's hot and thick in my hand, and I position him at my entrance, holding eye contact the whole time. I slide down slowly, taking just the head, and we both gasp.
"Oh god," I breathe.
I'm still sensitive from the first orgasm, every nerve ending firing, but his cock is big enough that as I slowly work myself down, taking him inch by inch, it reaches deep inside me, and thick enough that I can feel him stretching me, which burns slightly but in the best possible way.
He's filling me so completely that I have to stop halfway and breathe, adjusting to the size of him. Every time I shift even slightly I feel him everywhere, so deep inside me I can't tell where I end and he begins.
I roll my hips experimentally, just a small movement, and the sensation makes me gasp. He groans beneath me, his fingers digging into my hips again.
I'm sensitive, oversensitive even, but buried deep beneath that almost-too-much feeling is pleasure.
Pure, bright pleasure. And I'm fucking chasing it.
I roll my hips again, searching for the angle I need, lifting up slightly and sinking back down, and when I find it I gasp, pleasure sparking up my spine and radiating outward until I feel it in my fingertips.
There. Right there.
I do it again, slower this time, more deliberate, grinding down against him in a circle that drags his cock against my front wall, hitting that perfect spot inside me, and the moan that escapes me is embarrassingly loud and uncontrolled.
"Oh my god, yes," I breathe, my head falling back, my hands braced on his chest for balance.
His hands flex on my hips but he doesn't try to guide me, doesn't try to take control or set the pace, just holds on and watches my face with an intensity that should be unnerving but instead just makes me wetter, makes me clench around him.
I plant my hands more firmly on his chest and pick up the pace, riding him harder now, finding my rhythm. My breasts bounce with every movement and his gaze drops to watch them, his eyes tracking the movement like he's mesmerized.
Then he sits up suddenly, pulling me closer, wrapping his arms around my back. I'm straddling him upright now, pressed chest to chest, and he captures one of my nipples in his mouth and sucks hard.
"Oh fuck," I gasp, my rhythm faltering.
He switches to the other breast, his mouth hot and wet, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he sucks it between his lips. His arms around my back hold me stable and secure, and I start riding him again, grinding down on his cock while he worships my breasts with his mouth.
I throw my head back, completely lost in it. My nipples have always been sensitive, almost too sensitive, and the twin sensations of his mouth on my breast and his cock filling me so completely are too much.
The pleasure is building again already, impossibly, and fuck, he might actually be about to get a second orgasm out of me. So much for my body not working that way.
I grind down harder and he responds immediately, his arms tightening around me as he thrusts up into me, meeting my movements, and I cry out at the deeper penetration.
"Alex, yes! Yes!" I'm unable to stop the words falling out of my mouth, completely unfiltered, and that realization would be embarrassing if I wasn't so focused on chasing the feeling building in my core, coiling tighter and tighter.