Iris #2
It’s the hottest thing he could have said to me. With a loud groan, I grip the sheet underneath me even harder, arch my back, and let the tsunami of glorious pleasure slam into me with full force.
When the pleasure subsides, I feel like I’m under a spell—like I’ve been magically turned into a ravenous, horny beast. “I want you inside me,” I bark out.
To emphasize my point, I grip his hard dick and stroke it, and then growl with pleasure when I discover his thick tip is drenched with pre-cum.
I swirl the sticky evidence of Roman’s arousal around and around with my thumb, causing him to jerk and jolt, and then beg him to get his cock wrapped up and deep inside me.
“Patience,” Roman coos again. But this time, when he says the word, he sounds like he’s hanging on by the barest of threads.
With his dark eyes blazing and his entire body quaking, Roman spreads my thighs, crawls between them, and proceeds to give me oral sex that’s so fucking delicious and masterful, it quickly sends me hurtling into what can only be described as a full-bodied meltdown.
“Good girl,” Roman chokes out hoarsely from between my legs, as I writhe and groan in ecstasy.
Breathing hard, he grabs a condom packet off the nightstand like he’s grabbing onto a lifeline.
With his cock wrapped up, he climbs over my sweaty, writhing, yearning body like a panther on the prowl.
When his mouth reaches mine, he feels between my legs for his target with greedy fingers before plunging his full length inside me, all the freaking way.
I cry out as Roman’s thick cock stretches me and growl with pleasure as it fills me to the brim.
When he begins thrusting like a beast, I grip his bare ass cheeks, reveling in the perfect fit of our bodies.
How did I ever question if his dick would fit inside me, when it now feels like his body was designed specifically to fill every inch of mine?
As Roman’s thrusts intensify, I wrap my thighs around his gyrating hips and dig my nails into his broad back, savoring every delicious sensation.
His warm skin against mine. His musky scent.
The primal sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of my wetness.
I’ve never been this wet before. Not with Brandon.
Not with a vibrator. Not even when I’ve woken up after a sex dream about some rock star or hot professor from college.
Our tongues are swirling in concert with the movement of our desperate bodies. We’re gyrating as one by now—feeling totally connected while spiraling into ecstasy together. Suddenly, Roman’s mouth breaks free of mine with a loud gasp, like he’s coming up for air after spending too long under water.
“You feel so good,” he grits out. “Like you were made for me.”
I moan my reply, relishing the fact that the feeling is mutual—that I’m free to make whatever noises feel natural.
I’ve never experienced a man talking during sex.
I thought that was normal, so I kept quiet, too.
But now, I can’t get enough of Roman’s dirty talk and animalistic noises.
Every time this man opens his mouth, no matter what comes out, he ignites my body even more, as surely as if he were licking my clit.
“What are you doing to me?” Roman grits out. He sounds tortured. On the bitter cusp of losing it. “Your pussy is magic, baby,” he growls into my ear. “You’re a drug, baby. Fucking hell, what are you doing to me?”
I’m thinking he’s going to lose it any second now, based on the sounds he’s making and the desperation of his tone and thrusts.
But to my surprise, he pulls out of me, panting, flips me over and onto all fours, and plunges himself inside me again, this time from behind.
As he fucks me in this new position, I feel like he’s ripping me in two—but in the best possible way.
He reaches around and massages my clit as he pounds me, and .
. . Oh my God. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, my eyes roll back into my head, my breathing halts, and a third orgasm ravages me—this one even more powerful than the prior two.
I come with a loud, keening wail, as Roman wraps a large palm over my throat and comes inside me with a loud growl of his own.
As his body ripples violently inside mine, I collapse onto the bed, taking him with me, and then lie motionless underneath him, spent and breathing hard, as Roman’s body quakes and shudders on top of mine with aftershocks.
When our bodies have both quieted, Roman slides off my back, turns me onto my side like a rag doll and kisses me tenderly. “Goddamn, Iris,” he murmurs into my lips. “That was unexpected.”
I don’t know what to say in response to that, since everything about that was far more than unexpected to me—it was transformative. Transcendent. Revelatory. Supernatural.
Tongue-tied and exhausted, I wordlessly kiss him again, and that’s what we wind up doing for a long time: kissing.
We do it for so long, in fact, it eventually feels like we’re having an entire conversation without words.
When we finally come up for air and open our eyes, Roman wipes at my cheek with his thumb and whispers, “Those were tears of euphoria, I hope?”