Chapter 32 Aria #2
Drunk on the heavy fog floating in my head, I shift my hips, leaning closer to him, swept in the hum of want and desire stitched beneath my skin, but he reaches out, tugging me back by my hair.
The tension tightens at my scalp, holding me a threadbare inch away from his mouth.
Our breaths, hot and heavy, intermingling.
“I won’t hold back this time,” he warns, his voice rough, the grittiness siphoning liquid heat to trickle out of me. “I’ll fucking destroy you. You sure you can handle that?”
My hips shift again, my legs clamping around him at the feel of his growing erection, stiff as a rod.
A violent shudder racks up my body from the friction it puts against my pelvis when I lean in closer, that secret nub swelling with arousal, the throbbing heightening.
My voice is a tight rasp. “I want you, Ledger. Even if it’ll lead to my downfall. Even if it’ll lead to yours.”
My fingers dig into his chest when I feel his rough hands slide down the back of my jean-clad thighs, following a sharp inhalation of breath. “Let’s be each other’s ruin.”
He growls, his chest heaving. The resistance snaps, and in an instant, he nudges me harder down into him. My lips part with a sharp gasp when the throbbing pulse presses against his hard length again, my moan catching in my throat as his mouth crashes over mine.
Lashes fluttering, I squeeze my eyes shut and exhale a deep, guttural sound into his mouth, the fervor in it matching my own as our tongues flirt together.
One of his hands stays at my backside, urging me to keep rolling against him, the delicious friction intensifying, while the other hand slides between us, fumbling with the button of my jeans before tugging the zipper down.
“Take it off out here?” I ask, a quiver clinging to my voice as my movements still for just a second.
His dark chuckle sharpens the throb between my legs. “Yeah, baby. Right here. There’s nobody else, just you and me.”
My ears grow hot, like the rest of me. Every part of me smothering and aching for more.
I want to feel him…everywhere. So, I lift myself up, granting him better access, and he peels the denim off, my panties coming down right along with them before they’re discarded somewhere beside us on the blanket.
Spurred on by his urgency, my fingers slip to his own zipper, working fast in a clumsy rush before he pushes it down and I sink back onto him. This time, no fabric barrier between us.
“Fuuuck,” he groans, gripping my waist again, bucking his hips up to meet me. “I’ve dreamt about fucking your hot little cunt for so damn long.” He reaches down between us to fist himself, pumping once, twice, then…“Tell me, baby, have you ever handled cock before?”
“N-No,” I say, gasping my response.
Heat floods my cheeks, more than I thought possible. The brazen way he speaks tightens my core, stretching the tension taut like a snapped wire, anticipation coiling so tight I can feel myself trembling with it. Will he find my inexperience a turn-off?
Should I have lied?
My head swims with dizzying, lust-drenched thoughts, too thick to let shame settle for long, too loud for doubt to root itself before he grunts, thrusting into his fist a final time before reaching for my wrist, guiding it to his hard length. “Go ahead. Touch it.”
Following his order, I wrap my fingers around his shaft, my teeth catching on my bottom lip. He’s thick and warm, strangely smooth, the weight of him heavy in my palm as I stroke him slowly, mimicking the motion he used just moments before.
He sucks in a sharp breath, a string of curses tumbling out with the thrust he pumps into my hand.
It gives me a jolt of confidence, so I grip him tighter, my hands working faster over the velvety length now pulsing under my touch, a bead of wetness slicking my fingers when I glide to the tip again.
“Fucking hell,” he hisses.
His brows pinch together, jaw flexing. For a second, he looks in pain.
I pause, my eyes scanning his. “Does it hurt?”
“No, baby. It feels like fucking heaven; if I believed in one, it’d be right here. Right now. But I don’t want to blow my load yet.” He pulls my hand away, dragging me lower until I collapse completely over him, his cock pressing against the soaked juncture between my thighs. I gasp.
Both of us hot, sweaty, and breathless.
His body jolts beneath mine as I bow lower, his rock-hard length pressing against my wet, aching slit. I throb over it, a deep, teeth-gritting pulse of want.
There’s nothing stopping him from slipping inside, no barrier to catch us, and the thought sends a flicker of panic through the blissful haze.
Each near miss ratchets the anticipation higher, my thighs clenching tighter with every ragged grind.
His tongue slips out, licking at the skin on my neck and just below my ear, my body tingling when he says my name.
“Relax, Aria, just focus on this feeling. Focus on the way your slick pussy glides so easily against my cock, how we mold into each other so perfectly. Listen to the beautiful sound it makes.”
Another kiss nips at my neck, his tongue flattening before he licks upward, my senses all tuned into the rhythm of our heavy breaths, somehow in sync and not, with the occasional grunt breaking from his throat between the soppy, wet sounds we make.
My head is buried into the tight tendons straining the base of his neck, intoxicated by the unfiltered, heady scent of his sweat, cedarwood and smoke.
“L-Ledge—” I gasp, unable to get out his name. Varying shades of light speckle into my vision, the familiar bloom of release rising fast, right where I’m pressed into his hard length.
His fingers wedge between us, swiping the moisture leaking from me, then rubbing it over my swollen bud. The pressure builds to a peak. My thighs burn. It’s happening. Oh, God, it’s happening.
Lost in the escalation, I barely register his finger slipping inside me, the top of his palm grinding against my clit instead as he strokes me deeper.
The intrusion starts to sting when he adds another finger, but by now I’m already barreling headlong into a mind-shattering orgasm. I shout as I cum, unraveling so violently it knocks the breath from my lungs, my own glittering stars bursting behind my eyes.
“Beautiful,” he breathes against my open mouth. “Just like that, so fucking beautiful when you cum.”
Heaving in a ragged breath, he grips his cock, fisting it over my entrance, his other hand still between my legs, fingers buried in my constricting walls, stretching me.
They slip in and out now, slow and agonizing, the rest of his hand grazing over my tender clit, making me jolt. To my surprise, pressure builds again just as he pulls away, replacing his fingers with the tip of his cock. He wedges the mushroom head in, slow at first.
Then he grips my hips and drags me down onto him in one harsh thrust, burying himself to the hilt.
I cry out, tears stinging my eyes, the feeling replaced with an overwhelming burn as I writhe, struggling to adjust to the pressure of him inside.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his face tense, neck straining as he fights against himself not to move.
The pressure is so intense, so monumental, that I don’t think I can handle it. I jerk, the walls of my pussy clenching tight when I feel his touch return to my clit, drawing lazy circles over it.
His broad shoulders shudder before his large hands grope my backside, encouraging me to move up and down, taking control of the pace. I feel so full and stretched, dragging an equal surge of molten heat between the both of us as the throbbing climbs to a peak again.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groans into my neck, his breath hot and ragged as his fingers dig into my hips. I start to move again, slow at first, still adjusting to the stretch, the burn, the way he fills me so deep that it nearly steals my breath.
His jaw goes slack as I rock down harder, chasing the quickly growing surge building deep inside me. The pressure knots low and tight, and before I know it, another series of long, pulsing waves assaults my sex.
My fingers dig into his shoulders as I come back down, clinging to him. His movements overtake mine, jerking up into me, rough and desperate.
It doesn’t take long before he loses precision, his grip bruising my hips, guiding me through it.
“Ah…fuck,” he groans, his voice cracking.
He slams me down onto him for a final time and holds me there, bucking up into me.
A hoarse moan rips through his throat, followed by hot spurts of cum spilling deep inside me.
Moments later, the tremors ease from his limbs as he wraps his arms around me, pressing tender kisses into my damp hairline, both of us slick with our exertion. “God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he breathes, his voice heavy and choppy.
My ear rests against his chest, soaking up the quiet vibration of his voice while he murmurs praise and continues kissing me. I sink deeper into his solid warmth, eyes growing heavy, lulled by the steady thrum of his heart, its rhythm drumming me into a slow, sedated calm.
I just lost my virginity.
I can’t help the small smile pulling my lips as we settle into each other, his fingers drifting into my hair and threading through the strands.
Right now, nothing else matters besides this moment. Not the sadness. Not the questions I’ll have to face later. Just this. Wrapped in his arms, loved and cherished. Whatever tomorrow brings can wait. Tonight, I’m safe in his arms.