18. Austin #3
Goddamn, she sounds good. It takes every ounce of self-restraint not to get into my truck and go to her, so I can see if she looks as gorgeous as she sounds right now.
I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from fucking her if she asked, though, and I really want her to be fully comfortable before we take that step.
We’re moving slow, which is exactly why I stay right where I’m at, my hard cock throbbing against my palm as her breathing becomes more erratic.
“You have me, Baby Girl,” I tell her. “My head is between your perfect, sexy thighs right now. That swollen clit pulses every time I flick my tongue over it. Are you getting close for me? Are you ready to soak my face?”
“Y-yes,” she replies. “I want to come for you. Please don’t stop.”
“Never,” I reply, pride filling my chest at the way she’s allowing herself to fall into the fantasy. “I told you I’d eat you for hours. I could live off the taste of your sweet cunt, I just know it. Come with me, Paris. Let me hear how pretty you sing when you fall apart.”
Her soft whimpers get louder, turning into a staccato of wanton, horny moans.
My balls draw tight, slapping against my fist on every downstroke.
I’m burning up, the need to release becoming stronger with every passing second as I jerk myself like there’s no tomorrow.
Electricity skitters through my limbs, my eyes rolling back when I’m teetering on the edge of oblivion.
And when she finally finds her climax, my name tumbling from her lips over and over like it’s the only word she knows, I lose it, shooting thick white ropes all over my chest and abs.
I roar her name, my hips bucking off the bed as I imagine emptying every last drop of my cum inside her tight, wet heat.
My vision blurs, going completely dark and taking the rest of my existence with it until the only thing left is us, and this moment that I already know is going to change both of our lives forever.
I no longer hear that voice in the back of my head that’s telling me why I should stay away from Paris.
It’s long gone, only to be replaced by the need to give her everything she deserves.
We lie there, the sounds of our heavy breathing mingling in the air as we return to earth.
I haven’t orgasmed like that in a long fucking time, feeling fully spent and satisfied with every detail of what we just did.
As much as I would’ve loved our first experience together to be in person, I know this was right for us.
And we have plenty of time to move at a pace that makes her feel comfortable.
Do we have a lot to talk about? Yeah, we do. But not tonight.
When I’ve regained the ability to form an intelligent human thought, I break the silence.
“Sweet, gorgeous girl. You did such a good job being bold and brave with me. How do you feel?” Part of me worries that she may be filled with some form of regret, especially considering her upbringing.
If there was no positive conversation around sex, she’s prone to a bit of shame after openly touching herself the way she just did—with a man she’s not in a relationship with.
But I want to remove all that bullshit from her mind.
I want her to feel empowered whenever she’s with me, regardless of what we’re doing.
“I feel good, I think. Was I…” She pauses, and I can hear a bit of worry in her tired, raspy voice. “Was I okay?”
My first instinct is to chuckle at her words, telling her how silly she is for even thinking that wasn’t the hottest experience of my life.
But I have a feeling she’s been dismissed and talked down to before.
I want her to know that those concerns are valid—and that she’s safe bringing them up with me.
So, I don’t tease her. Instead, I soften my tone, so she can feel my sincerity in this moment.
“You were perfect. I’m so fucking proud of you right now. Thank you for trusting me with that part of yourself. I hope we can do it again, but maybe next time, you’ll let me touch you for real.”
She huffs a relieved laugh, the anxiety that was evident just moments ago gone at my response.
“I’d really like that. Thank you for being patient with me, Austin.
And for letting me unpack my baggage. Before now, I didn’t realize how much all of it was weighing on me.
I feel like a whole new person—like I’m one step closer to being like the women in my books.
Wild. Free. Unafraid to ask for what I want, even if it’s scary. I’ve never had that before.”
“You don’t have to be afraid to ask for anything with me,” I reply.
I should open up and tell her that I get off on making my partner feel good, both in and out of the bedroom.
I’ve never hidden behind the fact that I’m a service dom before, but everything still feels a bit fragile with her.
While it may seem like an innocent kink to have, parts of it are very intense for me.
Laying all my cards out on the table while we’re both still basking in the afterglow of a really pivotal moment isn’t the best idea, so I decide to hold off until she’s able to vocalize her questions and concerns with a clear head.
She yawns, telling me she’s had enough excitement for one night.
I’d give anything to hold her again, watching her chest rise and fall slowly as sleep pulled her under.
But that’s not possible tonight, so I settle for a warm goodbye and a promise to kiss the breath right from her lungs the second I have her alone again.
It’ll be an agonizing thirty-six hours, but it’ll be worth it when those soft curves are pressed against me on Monday morning.
I’m addicted, and I’m ready to show her what it’s like to be served in ways she’d never imagine in her wildest dreams.