8. 8
8
Tilly
W hen I come to—
And it really is just like I snap back into consciousness, like I’ve blacked for a moment or two, and returned to find the hem of my dress still bunched in my hand and the other full of Dexter’s thick, dark hair.
It’s very nice hair.
What’s also very nice is his mouth between my legs. So very nice, that it’s why I may have blacked out.
I have never had an orgasm as intense or as sudden as that. It’s all I can do to keep breathing, shallow, shaky breaths. What was—?
That must have been oral sex, the way it’s meant to be.
Dexter stands, towering over me and I can barely look at him because he did that and I—
I made noise. I moaned, and cried out and…
Carlos preferred me to be quiet. To concentrate, he would say.
On himself.
I can’t think of Carlos. I peek at Dexter, who is…
Smiling. Smiling like the proverbial cat that’s eaten the canary. Only he ate—
Before I can say anything or even get my thoughts in order, Dexter scoops me up. I let out a squeak as he carries me into the bedroom, as gently as a knight rescuing a maiden.
It feels like he did.
Rescue me.
I feel tingly, like my legs won’t hold me up enough to make it to the bedroom, and I really want to make it to the bedroom.
He made me come, right there, standing up in my living room.
I won’t be able to sit on the couch and watch TV without thinking about it.
Dexter sets me on the bed. “Take your clothes off,” he orders and strips off his own shirt.
Oh.
His chest is romance-novel chiselled, with just enough hair. And his abs… I meet his gaze as wide-eyed as I greeted him earlier.
“You okay?”
My laugh is not my own. It’s the laugh of a woman who just had an orgasm standing up in her living room. “Uh… yeah.”
“Good. Take your clothes off.” He moves to unbutton his jeans and something in my brain short-circuits because I’d much rather just watch him.
But he stops, jeans undone and on the cusp of being pushed down. If I looked in that area, could I see the length of him pressed against his boxer-briefs? “Tilly? I want to see you.”
“You really don’t.”
He laughs. “Oh, I think I really do.” Stepping closer to where I still lie on the bed, propped up on my elbows, Dexter reaches around my neck to undo the little buttons at the nape of my neck.
His fingers are warm and capable of undoing any button on my clothes.
I have no idea how he knew the button was even there. But he does, and then he pulls my dress over my head. It’s a clumsy move with absolutely no finesse, but it’s so sexy for a person who hasn’t been undressed by another person in such a long time that I almost come again on the spot.
Instead, I watch Dexter pull off his jeans and look in the right place so I can see his length…
And it’s considerable.
But I don’t have time to wonder or wait or even reach out and touch. Because Dexter positions me against the pillows and leans over and kisses me.
Oh.
I’m not ready for it. There’s no time to prepare. But when his mouth slots over mine and my lips part to welcome him, I moan into his mouth.
I can taste myself. His tongue slips between my lips and right here on my bed, the bed where I once slept with Carlos, I am kissing another man.
I’m kissing Dexter and it’s wonderful.
My arms slide around his neck and I don’t even think about how long it’s been since I’ve been kissed like this—years? Decades?
Forever.
He leans over me, one hand bracing himself by my pillow, the other sliding onto my breast. But it’s his mouth that captivates me, moving against mine like it was meant to.
Like he was meant to be with me.
His mouth claims me, teasing, his tongue dancing with mine. The kiss turns urgent, demanding, and he coaxes another moan out of me.
Dexter is kissing me like he kissed my down there.
My second thought is… I have no idea. I stop thinking altogether.
His kiss saves me.
And then he stops.
Pressing his lips against the fullness of my breast, between them, against my rib, above my belly button, Dexter eventually settles himself between my legs. He kisses my inner thigh as I try to squirm away. “Again?” I hear myself ask.
“Again, again and again… I didn’t get enough of you.” Any protest it cut short by his mouth… on me. His tongue… finding all the spots that I thought were asleep or broken or just not there. “I want to hear what you like,” he reminds me with a sexy growl.
This time, Dexter uses his finger as well as his mouth, and I can’t help the noises I make. Carlos went down on me once, early in our marriage, and I couldn’t relax, mainly because I was trying to stay quiet and still. He never did that again.
I give up trying for quiet with Dexter, because why would I? Instead, the noises I make…
I know what to expect now, and it’s even better than the first time. Dexter plays with me like I’m a musical instrument that he’s mastered. My hands settle on his shoulders as he licks me, all of me, his tongue moving with dedication and skill. And when I’m close, he doubles down with such precision and speed that I cry out as he pushes me over the edge.
“Dexter!”
I call out his name.
When I’m still gasping for breath, still quivering and spent, Dexter pulls back and stands. He pulls off his boxer briefs and there’s a moment where I see him, aroused and ready and so big…
Carlos was not big.
Carlos was not average.
I will not think of Carlos when Dexter—when he puts on a condom quicker than I can clean the kitchen at the end of the night—when he kneels on the bed and pulls my leg up, holding it in his hand as he slides inside me, like he’s parking a SmartCar.
It’s just so easy. And so good. There’s a moment of tightness as I work to accommodate his size and then any pain becomes pleasure as he moves within me.
Dexter rocks against me and I… I don’t know what to do with my hands. I settle with holding his shoulders as he rocks, plunges, thrusts, but soon my hand slide to his lower back, his ass, because I want more.
More of this. More of him. More of this incredible, amazing feeling—that I’m flying. That I’m wanted and desired and a woman.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt like that.
“You feel so good,” Dexter huffs, balancing on his arm as he fucks me.
This is not sex, and definitely not making love. Dexter is fucking me. I am being fucked.
I love it.
He slides his length in and out. Sex is one of the more basic instincts, but Dexter has perfected it with a roll of his hips; positioning my leg just so to thrust deeper.
In and out. In and out. It seems so basic, so primal. Carnal.
This is so much more.
I’m caught up in the sensations of Dexter inside me—moving, thrusting. Fucking me. The sounds of our bodies moving together, the slap of skin, Dexter’s breathing becoming hoarse, straining. My gasps and moans. I couldn’t be quiet even if I was forced to.
Why would I want to? This is… this is everything.
“Oh, my god.” It’s half gasp, half sob. “Please don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“I’m never stopping,” Dexter says. “Your pussy is mine.”
“Mine,” I echo with a panting cry. “Yours.”
“That’s right, it’s mine. Always mine. And you—you like my cock inside you? Do you like me fucking you like this?”
“So good,” I cry.
I’ve never spoken like this. I’ve never heard anyone speak to me that way,
I like it.
“Don’t stop fucking me,” I tell him breathlessly. “I want your cock inside me. Always.”
“I don’t want to ever stop fucking you. Tilly—fuck…” It’s a long, drawn-out groan and I cry out with him because this feels so good.
This feels amazing.
He pulls at my legs so he can go deeper, so deep, and I cry out, pleasure tinged with pain. He thrusts harder—so hard. “More,” I gasp. “I can’t…I won’t… Please! Dexter, more!”
And then, once again—the third time, if you’re counting—I feel the rush. The pulse of sensations flood my body and I grip Dexter’s ass hard enough to leave a mark. I’m so close, reaching for the gold ring—
Dexter puts a hand between us, pressing a finger against me. He only needs a tiny movement to push me over the edge. I take off like a rocket.
I erupt like a volcano. The crescendo of sensations is like fireworks. The hyperboles are endless, and so is my climax as Dexter keeps thrusting, harder and more as I cry out with pleasure.
So much pleasure.
I think I scream his name this time.
With a final grunting thrust, Dexter stills, poised above me. I open my eyes to watch his eyes close and almost a grimace on his face.
I kept my eyes closed with Carlos, but I want to watch Dexter, to memorize every moment of tonight.
I want to remember everything about him, this man who is suddenly my entire world.