Chapter 13 #3
“You can.” I start to move again, slower now but just as deep, grinding against her clit with every stroke.
The angle is even deeper like this, and I can see it on her face every time I bottom out, the way her eyes roll back, the way her mouth falls open.
“You’re going to come one more time. On my cock.
I want to feel this pussy squeeze me when you come.
I want to feel you milk every drop out of me. ”
“Oh fuck, yes.” Her eyes flutter closed and her head tips back, her neck straining. “Oh fuck, that’s so deep, I can feel you everywhere—“
“I know you can.” I keep up that slow grinding rhythm, building her back up again, watching her face as the pleasure overtakes her. I can read every sensation on her face, can feel every flutter and clench of her walls, and I use that information to play her body like an instrument.
Deeper when she gasps. Slower when she’s getting too close. Faster when she starts to beg. I keep her right on the edge, keep her desperate and needy and shaking, until she’s crying again, actual tears streaming down her face, her voice broken and raw.
“Please,” she’s saying now, over and over, like it’s the only word she knows. “Please please please, I need to come, I need—Theo, please, I can’t take it anymore—“
“I know what you need.” I lean down and kiss her, swallowing her moans, tasting the salt of her tears on her lips. When I pull back, her eyes are wet and desperate and so fucking beautiful. “Come for me, Emma. Come on my cock. Let me feel it. Show me how good I make you feel.”
I snap my hips harder, faster, hitting that spot deep inside her with every thrust, and she shatters beneath me for the third time.
Her pussy clamping down on me in rhythmic pulses, her whole body arching off the bed, her mouth open in a silent scream that seems to go on forever.
The feeling of her coming around me, squeezing me so tight, milking my cock—it’s too much.
I bury myself as deep as I can go and let go, coming so hard my vision whites out, my whole body shuddering, groaning her name into her neck as I empty myself into the condom.
For a long moment the only sound is our ragged breathing.
I collapse on top of her, still inside her, both of us too wrung out to move.
I’m dimly aware that I’m probably crushing her but I can’t seem to make my muscles work.
Can’t seem to do anything but lie here and breathe and feel her heart pounding against my chest.
Her fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, gentle now where they were violent before. I can feel the scratches she left, the sting of them, and I love it.
I lift my head and look down at her, brushing the damp hair back from her face. Her eyes are half-closed, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed and tear-stained. She looks completely wrecked. Beautiful and ruined and mine.
“Hey,” I say softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You okay?”
She makes a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a whimper. “I don’t know if I have a spine anymore. I think you fucked it out of me.”
I smile and kiss her temple, her cheekbone, the corner of her mouth. Soft, tender kisses, nothing like the desperate hunger from before. “I’m serious. Was that... I got a little carried away.”
She opens her eyes fully and looks at me, and there’s so much warmth there it makes my chest ache. “Theo. That was the best sex of my entire life. You were perfect. Everything was perfect.”
“The spanking?” I trace my thumb across her cheek, wiping away the last of her tears. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“You hurt me exactly the right amount.” She grins, this lazy satisfied smile. “I asked for it, remember? I liked it. A lot. Couldn’t you tell?”
I laugh softly and kiss her properly, slow and sweet, taking my time. When I pull back, I search her face one more time, making sure. “You’d tell me if it was too much? If I ever do anything you don’t like?”
“I promise.” She reaches up and traces her fingers along my jaw. “But I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. I think we’re pretty compatible in that department.” She pauses. “Remember in the Black Lantern when I said ‘ask and I shall obey?’”
“Yeah.”
“Freudian slip. Everything you just did is exactly what I’m into.”
I let that hang there, just listening to her breathing, and eventually I find the strength to pull out, and she winces slightly, oversensitive. I kiss her softly, swallowing her small sound of discomfort.
“Sore?” I ask against her lips.
“In the best way,” she murmurs.
I pull back and look down at her, brushing my knuckles across her cheek. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
I deal with the condom first, then walk to her bathroom on unsteady legs. I find a washcloth and run it under warm water, then come back to the bed. She watches me with soft eyes as I climb back beside her.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Taking care of you.” I part her thighs gently and press the warm cloth against her, cleaning her up with slow, careful strokes. She hisses slightly at the contact—she’s swollen and sensitive—but then sighs, relaxing into the mattress.
“That feels nice,” she whispers.
“Good.” I take my time, gentle and thorough, and when I’m done I toss the cloth toward the bathroom and lie back down beside her. She immediately curls into my side, her head on my chest, her leg thrown over mine. Like she belongs there. Like we’ve been doing this for years instead of hours.
I wrap my arm around her and pull her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You need anything? Water? Food?”
She shakes her head against my chest. “Just this. Just you.”
Something warm spreads through my chest at her words. I tighten my arm around her and trace lazy patterns on her shoulder, feeling her breathing start to slow.
I pull her closer and close my eyes, breathing in the smell of her shampoo and her sweat and the sex still hanging in the air.
I think about all the reasons I told myself this couldn’t happen.
All the walls I built to keep her out. All the weeks I spent convincing myself that distance was the right call.
I was an idiot. I was a complete fucking idiot.