Chapter 63
Gen
‘Don’t worry,’ he says. ‘It’s very narrow—it’s like a pen. It’ll make everything else feel even better, okay? Just relax.’
‘Okay,’ I say shakily as he inserts it. He’s right. It’s tiny. But it’s there, vibrating against walls I don’t explore that much. It feels invasive and ticklish and uncomfortable, even if it’s not painful.
‘And this is just until I can fuck you,’ he says, and another noise starts up.
Oh shit.
He fiddles around a little, and then a lubed-up vibrator—a far girthier one, this time—is breaching my pussy and sliding in. Holy crap. This is a lot. I claw ineffectually at the marble.
‘Look at you,’ he says reverently, and I pant out a kind of deranged laugh, because my entire lower half is vibrating, and it’s so much. I daren’t move in case something flies out or that little wand gets jammed inside my arse. But, at the same time, it feels amazing. Intense, but amazing.
‘Touch your tits,’ he tells me, and then his hands and mouth are on me, thank God.
He strokes my thighs, and kisses down my stomach and down my landing strip, and then, holy fuck, his mouth is on me.
It’s right on me, exactly where I need it, and he kisses and laps at my clit with that perfect, dextrous tongue of his.
I do as he says and reach for my nipples, rolling and pinching and squeezing them as Anton works me with rough strokes, making guttural, hungry, carnal noises of appreciation that only serve to stoke the flames inside me.
Because my body is on fire. The warmth that’s coursing through my entire pelvis is almost too much, thanks to his tongue and my double vibrator situation. He’s stimulating me everywhere. It’s an assault on my senses, an onslaught the likes of which my nervous system barely knows how to handle.
But it’s also threatening to give me the most complete, most well-rounded orgasm I’ve ever had, because nothing is lacking. Every erogenous part of my body is singing. And that singing becomes a fucking aria as he winds me higher and higher.
I explode in a tidal wave of sensation that’s positively violent, and as my climax courses through me Anton holds my hips in a death grip and keeps on licking.
Over and over and over like he won’t be satisfied until he’s wrung every last drop of pleasure from my body.
I realise hazily that the death grip is because I’m practically bouncing off the island, crying out as my body convulses in its attempts to process this relentless deluge of pleasure.
When he’s licked me through the last of it, when the storm in my body has begun to ebb away, leaving that ecstatic, stupid brain mush that only a seriously good orgasm can deliver, he turns off the devices and slides them gently out of me before helping me up to sitting.
I’m lightheaded and floppy, and when he pulls the blindfold off me, all I see is him, smiling at me.
His smile is pride and adoration and wonder, and it’s so broad those dimples of his have disappeared into his laughter lines again. I reach up and trace one side with shaky fingers.
‘You’re so fucking beautiful when you’ve just come,’ he tells me. His voice is soft but there’s an edge of need to it. ‘I mean, even more beautiful than normal.’
I smile bashfully and manage to reach forward to tug his shirt up over his head.
I need some serious skin on skin right now.
Then he’s reaching for a condom from the pile of treats he has on the island next to me and rolling it on as he simultaneously attempts to stagger out of his trousers and boxer briefs.
His skin is warm and tanned and beautiful.
It’s skin I could lose myself in. But I’ll have to hold that thought, because he’s tugging me right to the edge of the island and lining his crown up with my still-pulsing entrance as he wraps a strong arm around my back and uses his other hand to fist himself.
I glance down at the glorious sight of his angry cock disappearing inside my body, inch by inch, and then up at his face, so close to mine.
Those eyes of his are dark and hooded and filled with need.
The lines on his face are craggy. There’s effort etched on every gorgeous feature.
His hair’s falling softly over his forehead, and I reach up to claw my fingers through it.
This island is the perfect height for him to fuck me, and this position is seriously intimate.
I wrap my legs around his bare arse and tilt my head up so his lips can find mine.
He begins to move, dragging his dick out slowly and thrusting in hard with a groan, the hand on my back sliding down to cup my bottom and hold me in place as he drives into me.
I swear, the noises this man makes when he’s inside me are the hottest I’ve ever heard.
They come from somewhere deep inside him; they’re so primal that they rip my heart out and make my pussy flutter.
It’s only fair that he demands I harness every raw, animalistic instinct I have and let him have them, because when he fucks me, he lets me have everything he has to give.
He doesn’t hold back.
It’s right that he doesn’t let me hold back, either.
So I don’t.
I lean in, and I open my legs and my mouth wider, and I take and take. I take his thrusts, and his ravenous kisses, and I grab at his hair and scratch over the skin-covered muscles of his back and shoulders. I moan into his mouth as he rams his dick inside me, bottoming out in me again and again.
And when he lays me back down on the island so he can get in deeper, one hand digging into my waist and the other groping and grabbing at my breasts as I lie there spread out for him, I lie there, writhing and undulating with pleasure, and I marvel at the otherworldly experience that is Anton Wolff, out of control and fucking me into oblivion.
His need is catching.
His desire is contagious.
I thought he’d wrung every last drop of pleasure from my body, but, impossibly, the walls of my pussy fire up again. It’s not just what he’s doing with his magical dick.
It’s the emotional overwhelm of letting him strip me bare like this. Of throwing my dignity and my poise to the wind and letting him ravage me like a fucking caveman while I lie there and take everything he has.
Most of all, it’s the intimacy of holding his gaze, of keeping my eyes on him as he ploughs into me, over and over, of watching as he comes apart at the same time I do, of seeing his jaw clench and his face contort and his mouth move as he lets rip a string of beautiful obscenities.
Because the blindfold was erotic as hell, but when we have eyes on each other, me and him?
That’s when the alchemy happens.