LET HER #2
She comes with a scream of my name, her body bowing, back arching.
I have to hang onto her with one arm to keep my mouth sealed on her while she thrashes, her pussy clamping down on my fingers in the rhythm of her desire.
I feel every contraction, every wave, but I want more, more, working her through it, not letting up, drawing it out as long as I can.
She lets out a little sob, gasping for air, and finally, I gentle to soft kisses, withdrawing my fingers--she whimpers at the loss, and I want to fill her again.
Her whole body trembles, aftershocks rippling through her.
I press one last kiss to her clit--can't help myself.
She jolts and gasps, finally lifting her hips.
I'm addicted.
I guide her off my face, and shifts down my body, collapsing against my chest, making small, satisfied sounds, her breath hot and humid against my skin.
The hammer of her heart pounds against my ribs as my arms wrap around her, hold her close.
My chin is wet, my beard soaked, and I don't care, I hope I smell her on me for days.
I stroke her back, her hair. "You okay, baby?"
She nods against my neck but doesn't speak yet.
Broke her. Fucking broke her. Good.
Slowly, she lifts her head to look at me with glazed eyes, all pupils. Her lips are plump and swollen, breasts heaving, bulging from the pressure of her body against mine, shoved up in gorgeous swells. Her hair is wrecked, curls springing in every direction.
She's never been more beautiful.
She leans down to capture my mouth, kissing me deep, tasting herself.
My fingers in her hair, I groan into her mouth, the intimacy sweeping over me.
It's a slow kiss, less frantic. More intense.
Her thighs open up to straddle my waist, knees planted in the mattress, positioned at just the right angle so that when she innocently shifts, the tip of my cock kisses that hot, wet dip of her pussy.
"Fuck," I hiss, my heart beating so hard I feel like I'm going to pass out.
I watch it happen, the exact moment when instinct takes over.
Her eyes go dark, unfocused, her hips shifting deliberately this time, her weight shifting to bear down.
The tip of my cock is nestled at the threshold of her body, throbbing with my pulse, soaked in her heat.
And for a heartbeat, that pressure, that perfect pressure is the only thing I've ever wanted in my whole entire fucking life.
"Fuck," I groan again and retreat, grabbing her by the hips, her face pure need, pure want, her whimpering drawing my sac tight. Every muscle in my body is locked, straining, my cock screaming at me to let her LET HER. Thank fuck I have enough brain left to keep her hips still.
"Molly." My voice is unrecognizable to me, too rough, too raw.
She's trying to wiggle, dazed and blinking and confused. "What? Why won't you--" she tries to push down again, and I hang onto her.
The tip of my cock is wet with her, every breath a struggle.
Sweat beads my forehead and neck. The second my grip eases, she settles back on me, and we both groan.
Her pussy clenches the tip of my cock, and I can feel it, feel how much she wants me.
My body roars at me to flip her over. Drive into her. Claim her.
"Molly," Her name breaks in my mouth, and I find a way to separate us. "Just--hang on--"
"You said you wouldn't stop me," she pants, hips wiggling in my grip.
"I know," I pant. "I know, and I swear I won’t, but I need--I need a--" Condom. Priest. Defibrillator.
When it lands that I'm not saying no, she relents, shifting forward, putting my cock at least three or four inches from her pussy, which isn't nearly enough, but it's something.
I swear to god I can still feel the heat of her on my cock.
She plants her hands between my biceps and torso and pants down at me.
I look up at her, smooth her hair. Force her to really look at me.
"I'm not gonna tell you no," I start, just so we're clear, "but I need you to take a breath, think with your brain--not your pussy--and tell me with words what it is you want."
She softens, the wildness easing in her as she takes a slow breath and lets it out, holding my gaze. For a second, she just looks at me, her face touched with adoration. She cups my jaw. Looks so deep into my eyes, I swear she can see my soul.
And then she says, "Grey, if you don't fuck me right now, I'm going to die."
I start to laugh, but she's kissing me, deep and heady and thick with longing, with desire. My fingers tangle in her silky hair, and when I break the kiss, it's to roll us over, putting her on her back and me on my side looking down at her. And then I kiss her again, hoping we're both ready.
MOLLY
My heart jackhammers in my chest so hard I swear I can feel it behind my eyes. I'm still trembling, my thighs jelly as he reaches across me for his nightstand and rummages around. The drawer closes. Nerves skitter through me.
This is happening.
I watch him tear open the condom, my pussy flexing at the sight of him rolling it down the length of his cock.
It's mesmerizing, the way his hands move, efficient and practiced.
The way his cock looks, thick and flushed.
The way it stretches over him. I love when he touches himself, but this is a whole new level.
Because this means he's about to be inside me.
I'm terrified. It's delicious. I'm glad he stopped me and my slobbering pussy from bearing down on him in the heat of the moment--I really did need to stop and think with my brain for a second, tell him what I want out loud, with words. And now, this is it.
He slides up next to me, peering down at me like he's memorizing my face as he touches my cheek, traces my jaw. A flash of fear burns through me, worries firing off in its wake. What if I'm bad at it? What if it hurts too much? What if I disappoint him? He has so experience and I have none.
"You okay?" he asks gently.
I nod. "Just nervous. A little scared," I say on a laugh so he knows what kind of scared.
His throat works, Adam's apple bobbing. "Me too."
Grey? Scared? The thought shocks me. "You are?"
A little nod. "Of hurting you. Of fucking this up." His forehead drops to mine so he doesn't have to look at me when he says, "Of not being what you need."
Oh my god. My heart is so tight, so full. It's all so much, too much, and I'm desperate to break the tension. So I smile.
"Well, I've done extensive research," I start.
His lips quirk. "Extensive, huh?"
"So much porn, Grey. So much porn."
He laughs, and my heart sings. "Jesus Christ, Molly."
And for a second we stare at each other again.
"It was always going to be you." The words slip out of me before I can stop them. I watch the shock on his face as it dawns on him. "I've known for a while now. Maybe since the first night you stayed. Maybe before that."
His eyes darken, something fierce and protective simmering there.
"I'm glad it's me," he says so quietly, I almost don't hear him. And then he kisses me soft and deep and reverent, like he wants to put the admission away, something to deal with later.
"Okay," he breathes against my lips.
"Okay," I echo, my heart skipping and jumping. I can feel it in my throat, in my wrists, my body buzzing with anticipation and fear and want.
"We're gonna go slow," he says, his voice rough, pulling me to my side for just a second, just long enough to kiss me sweetly and pull my thigh onto his.
And then, with the slightest shift, he rolls us over and settles between my thighs, my knees open, my body completely open, completely vulnerable.
His weight settles into me, heat radiating off his skin, the solid muscles of his chest against mine, our faces inches apart.
I can see every shade of grey in his eyes, pale and stormy and beautiful.
His cock is right there, the blunt pressure of him at the threshold, not pushing, just there. Waiting.
The anticipation is killing me.
My breath comes short and fast, and time slows down, stretches.
"Breathe," he murmurs.
My lungs burn when I draw a shaky breath and let it out.
And then--pressure.
Just the tip pushing against me. Reflexively my body tenses. He's huge. I know this. I have had him in my mouth. Is my pussy bigger than that? It better be.
Slow and careful, he advances, the pressure rising, then the stretch--oh god, the stretch. It's so much, I gasp. More than his fingers, so much more, not quite pain, but intense and overwhelming.
"Breathe, baby," he urges, and I realize he's shaking too. "Stay with me."
I'm trying, but my body fights him, clenching and tensing, trying to keep him out even though I want him in. I want him in so bad, I whimper.
"Shh. Relax," he says softly, laying slow, lazy kisses along my jaw, my neck. "I've got you."
I focus on his voice, his touch, try to unclench muscles I didn't know I was clenching. He flexes his hips, pushing deeper, inch by inch, pausing to let me adjust.
"That's it. You're doing so good. You're so good."
Another inch. The fullness is unreal. How is there more? I can feel every ridge, every vein, my body stretching to make room for him. The sensations stack and stack, relentless pressure, unbearable fullness, the stretch, the heat--I can't process it all. He fills me, taking me.
I make a sound, not quite pleasure, not quite pain, somewhere in between.
Immediately he stops. "You okay?" His voice is strained, controlled, and I see the effort it takes for him to hold still.
"No!" I gasp, begging. "Don't stop."
He kisses me then, kisses me with depth of feeling I've never experienced.
Kisses me deep and unhurried and intense, everything amplified by the feel of him inside me.
Kisses me until the sting eases just a little, replaced by something else.
Without realizing, my body melts, and he pushes and Oh. Oh!