17. Potato Sack
potato sack
Mirren
Holding my tongue isn’t my strength. Hell, I don’t even want it to be. But with all the discipline I have, I say nothing.
I wait.
I move my hips, getting a fraction more of his long cock, but not enough. Then again, if I had all of him, all the time, it still wouldn’t be enough.
I want him.
I need him.
Fuck it, I don’t care if I lose the battle of wills if I actually get him inside me.
“Need you,” I say, tempering the whimper in my voice.
Immediately he drives home.
My moan is met with his groan. Fuck yes.
When he doesn’t move, I suck in a deep breath and calm the anger that wants to rise. “Are you fucking with me?”
He speaks into my neck, his words dancing along my shoulder. “You said I got to choose.”
I exhale, reining in my temper and decide two can play at this game. With my hand between us, I cup his sac, rolling his balls between my fingers, tugging gently and clamp down with my inside muscles with every bit of strength I have.
The man behind me growls. He growls! “So this is how you want it?”
I tilt my head, still firmly within his grasp, and say nothing, but I do wink. Who would expect different from me?
“Okay, Freckles, but tell me if it gets to be too much.”
He holds my eyes, holds my throat… holds me captive as he drives deep, flexing somewhere at the end of me to give me just a bit more. His pace is relentless, merciless.
I fight to give as much as I get. That’s not truly an option. He’s deep inside me, surrounding me, enveloping me, holding me wide, and I’m helpless to stop the wave that builds.
But it won’t crest. There’s no breaking point, there’s only build. Something’s got to give. I need release. No coil can be wound this tight without snapping. Or breaking.
I reach between my legs, but his words in my ear are ragged and ripped from him. “Wait. Wait, baby.”
“I need to—”
“You need to wait.” He bites into my earlobe.
“You need to stop…” What? Telling me what to do? Providing the most extreme pleasure I’ve ever experienced? I’m not stupid.
“You’re close. Give me time.”
His words are weighty, as if he’s not only talking about an orgasm. As if he’s begging me for me.
“I know how you tighten. I know how you sound. You’re close but you’re not there yet.”
I would be if I could just stroke my clit.
“But—”
“I dare you—” Thrust.
“To trust me.” Stroke.
“I know your body.” Plunge.
“I know… you.” With those words, he rears back and stabs into me in time with a squeeze to my throat, and groans.
Lights crackle. Darkness wars with the morning light.
Sound is infinite and silent at once.
Warmth fills me as chills ripple along my skin.
Perhaps my soul leaves my body. Maybe I die.
I can’t know. All I can do is feel, soar, crash, break, and be knitted together, in one extended moment.
Strider
I’m ruined. Fucking ruined.
If I fell at her feet and begged for a chance to be hers, it would be too small a gesture.
She’s perfection. When she calls my name, falling into an orgasm that verges on painful for me.
It’s the former that does me in—my name on her lips, the sigh as she called for me.
I couldn’t have stopped myself from coming if I’d wanted to, which I didn’t.
I want to brand her, keep her, make her mine.
That leaving good enough behind and reaching for extraordinary? It’s her. And… And it’s been two days. Two days of perfection, attraction, explosive chemistry, and wildness inside my chest, but two days, nonetheless.
Kissing the point of her shoulder, I release her neck, trail my fingers down her arm and thread my fingers through hers.
I don’t pull out, instead choosing to glide through our combined orgasms to feel her body jolt.
Our sweat-slicked bodies can’t get any closer.
And the sound of our combined breaths may as well be a symphony.
“Mirren?”
“Yeah?”
So many words bounce inside my brain, so many things swirling. Instead, I go light, poking the bear. “Was that okay?”
Her face twists so her eyes meet mine. They narrow to slits as a small curve plays on her lips. “Fine, I guess. Don’t be too disappointed in yourself. You gave it your best shot.”
“Woman.” I try to let the weight of the words be their own threat.
She laughs, rippling her perfect pussy around my cock.
“I’d show you again, but I’m not leaving Heaven”—I thrust my softening cock in her heat—“just to prove a point. Maybe later.”
“Do you have plans today?” Her question surprises me.
I shake my head, my eyes never leaving hers.
“Want to go down to the beach and listen to the waves?”
“Are you going to tease me with that perfect body?”
“I don’t have to.” Her grin sets her whole face alight. “I could probably find a muumuu.”
“That wouldn’t help. I know what’s underneath.” I take our joined hands and slide them down her body to where we’re joined, sliding in and out against them.
“Potato sack?”
I shake my head. “That would only make me hungry.”
“Well, you’re shit out of luck. I’ll just have to go in shorts and a tank, and you’ll have to deal.”
“Jokes on you, Freckles. I’m gonna wear my glasses. I know you can’t resist them.”
Her laugh once again fills the room and squeezes my cock to half-mast.
“You looking for round two?”
She looks thoughtful. “That’s on you. I’m always ready. Are you?”
See? Fucking ruined.
“Fine, I guess. But make it quick. I need my oatmeal.”
She snorts and lifts her pelvis, disengaging me. We both groan.
I stare at where I leak from her. When my eyes reach hers, my face serious, I say, “Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life.”
Whether I mean my cum in her pussy or her, I don’t know. And I’m not looking to figure it out. “Now come ride my cock. Tonight, you can ride my face.”
She does as I say.