24. Paris #3
He chuckles. “I’ve barely started, Baby Girl. I promise you, it’ll feel even better when we’re ready to move. You need a second, and so do I, because I’m already on the verge of emptying inside you.”
I giggle, causing my walls to contract against him of their own volition again.
He groans, his eyes slamming shut as he chokes out a broken laugh.
The fact that he’s struggling to keep it together makes me feel powerful, like a sexy vixen who has the world’s hottest man eating out of the palm of her hand.
“Really? Didn’t take you for a two-pump chump, Coach.” I’ve never been playful during sex, at least not in a bantery way, but I can’t help it with Austin. Even in this moment, where we’re completely connected on the deepest level, I still feel comfortable enough to joke around with him.
His brows nearly touch his hairline, his jaw going slack as he lifts my thigh over his hip and gives it a tight slap. “I’ll give you a two-pump chump, naughty girl,” he replies, his gaze darkening with mischief. “You better hang on tight.”
Before I can even register the warning, he retreats, sinking back inside me in one long stroke.
It nearly takes my breath away, the feeling of being stretched to my limit making my entire body light up with need.
He repeats the motion, his fingers still digging into the flesh of my leg as he holds me open and sets a steady, tantalizing pace.
His hips roll, his muscular pelvis pressing against my clit in the most mind-bending way.
I gasp when he hits the very end of me, the tip of his cock kissing that magical spot each time.
“Fuck, Austin,” I moan, my eyes rolling back when his hand slides up to my ass and gives it a firm squeeze.
Every nerve ending in my body is singing, my orgasm already beginning to bloom to life deep inside my core.
I joked about him coming early, but I’m fighting for my life with every languid drive of his cock through my tight channel.
“I love it when you say my name,” he replies, his breath thick and warm against my ear. “It’s a reminder that you’re mine, Paris. All.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Mine.” Thrust.
“Oh, God,” I cry out, his possessiveness and the way our bodies are meeting harder—faster—bringing me closer to the edge with every passing second.
I’ve never been turned on by the thought of being owned, especially with my upbringing, where I was quite literally programmed to do whatever I was told.
But here, with Austin? I can’t think of anything I want more than to hear him call me his over and over until the sound of it is branded into the depths of my being.
“You’re getting close, aren’t you?” he rasps. “I can feel your cunt closing in around me. So fucking tight and wet, baby. I’m obsessed.”
All I can do is nod in response, a dark veil beginning to drop over my awareness as I lose myself to the pleasure. He continues fucking into me, alternating between rough thrusts and long, deep strokes that have me digging my nails into his biceps because it just feels so good.
I’m seconds away from going off when he stops abruptly, my eyes flying open in bewilderment.
But I don’t get a chance to protest before he’s lifting my leg up over his shoulder and lowering down to the mattress behind me, somehow managing the move without ever pulling his long, thick cock from my body.
His fingers dig into the flesh of my calf, my toes pointed toward the ceiling as he resumes his movements without missing a single beat.
“Holy shit!” I cry out, the change in position allowing him to plunge inside at a whole new angle.
It’s otherworldly, unlike anything I ever even imagined I’d experience.
His lips find my neck, licking and sucking as desperate whimpers and moans rush from my lungs.
He continues pistoning his hips, propelling me closer and closer to the edge until finally, I fall.
My senses go numb, time coming to a grinding halt for what seems like a lifetime before it all explodes back into existence in a rush.
Violent tremors rack my body, unintelligible curses and screams cutting through the air like a knife.
If I thought the last two orgasms were powerful, they were nothing compared to the way I come when I’m so incredibly full of him.
“Godfuckingdammit, Paris,” he grits through clenched teeth, never slowing as he works me through it. “You’re choking my dick. I’m going to fucking come.”
“Please. Please. Please.” The chant rolls off my tongue like a prayer, and I sink my nails into his forearm so hard that I’m sure he’ll have moon-shaped marks imprinted on his skin long after we’re finished.
But I don’t care. I want him to carry the evidence of how he just turned my world on its side forever so that he never forgets how fucking amazing he is.
I’m barely coherent when he buries himself deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he fills the condom with a growl.
I’d give anything to have him inside me without it, feeding me every single drop until it’s leaking out onto the sensitive flesh of my thighs.
Flashes of forever play like a slideshow in my mind faster than I can stop them, the idea of us doing this every night for the rest of our lives mingling with the euphoria of my release.
It’s heady and almost overwhelming, but at the same time, I’ve never felt more content as he holds onto me like he never plans on letting go.
I’d be okay if he didn’t.
Eventually, the intense pleasure begins to fade, morphing into the kind of tranquil satisfaction I’ve only read about.
His grip loosens, and he lowers my leg, but keeps his length hugged tightly inside me.
We’re breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly against my back as we slowly come down from our climaxes.
Minutes go by before either of us is able to speak, his lips tickling my ear as he checks in.
“How are you, gorgeous? Was that okay?”
My first instinct is to bark a laugh because okay is the biggest understatement I’ve ever heard.
Absolutely nothing about that was okay. It was flawless.
Life-changing. More than I ever thought I was worthy of.
And that’s a hell of a lot more than those two syllables could ever cover.
But when I turn my head, my eyes locking onto his that show the smallest bit of worry, I know I have to be completely honest about how I’m feeling.
“I’ve never been so thoroughly consumed,” I reply. “It was the most perfect thing I’ve ever experienced.”
I reach up, curling my hand around the back of his neck and pulling him close, my fingers gently gripping onto the hair at his nape as he releases a relieved sigh.
Our warm cheeks press together, and he bands his arm around my waist, causing me to hum in satisfaction when I realize how well our bodies fit together.
I could lie here like this forever, him nestled deep inside me as we recover from the most mind-numbing pleasure the world has ever known.
But in true Austin fashion, the peaceful quiet only lasts a few minutes before he returns to doting on me like he always does.
“I’m going to take care of the condom. Don’t move. I’ll be back with a warm washcloth, a snack, and some painkillers.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “You didn’t hurt me, for heaven’s sake. I told you, I feel amazing.”
He chuckles. “That’s because you have a shit-ton of endorphins running through you right now. I tried to be easy, but that was a tight squeeze, Baby Girl. You’ll be feeling it in the morning.”
I hope I do, to be honest. I hope the physical reminder of what we just did lasts for days. I’ll welcome the discomfort if it brings me back to this exact moment, lying in his arms after the best, most passion-filled sex I’ve ever had.
He’s pulling from my body just seconds later, earning a pathetic whine from me because suddenly, I feel so empty.
My eyes fall closed as I listen to the sound of him moving around the room before he disappears into the en suite bathroom.
He’s back within minutes, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder and urging me to roll onto my back.
My skin tingles as he carefully separates my legs, and I hum in satisfaction at the attention.
There’s a bit of soreness when he swipes the warm cloth over my center, but I don’t hate the way it feels.
Maybe he’s right, and I’ll be saying the opposite tomorrow, but right now, the ache is delicious.
We fall asleep in each other’s arms, our legs tangled up beneath the sheets as reality fades away. My mind slows completely for the first time in what feels like forever, and I dream of a future where drifting off wrapped around Austin Baker happens every night.