Chapter 48 #2
Concerned I can handle, but I don’t want him to think he’s gonna get hurt because I can’t control my own emotions. “I mean I need you. Inside me.”
It clicks, I guess. It must, because his mouth is on mine again, and he’s turning me around until my back is facing the bed. “I’ve got you,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
He’s taking off my shirt, and I’m in a frenzy. Grabbing for him, groping him, losing my mind with how close he is and how much closer I want him. I palm his crotch, but he’s barely hard, and I panic. “Fuck…what do you need? Stop thinking.”
“I’m fine, Drew. Lie down.”
“Put it in my mouth,” I beg.
“Where do you want me?” he pauses to ask.
I can’t have him pausing. I can’t have any hesitation. I need him to break through the overwhelm, and I can’t give him step-by-step instructions on how to do it—he just needs to do it. If he’s the one for me, he’ll figure it out, right?
Fuck… I can’t breathe.
I drag his mouth back to mine, a hand on the back of his neck forcing the issue. We’re on the bed now, and he’s on top of me, and I’m furiously making out with him, my hands grasping his ass, my hips arching to grind my cock against his—try to get him harder, but I can’t tell if it’s working.
“Stop, babe. Stop,” he whispers against my mouth.
I freeze everywhere. The only thing moving is my pounding dick. He takes both my hands and presses them to the bed. “I said I’ve got you. Be still and let me take care of you.”
The demand in his tone hits the exact right note inside me—even causing my most frantic thoughts to do as he says—be still.
He kisses my chest, lifting his gaze to meet mine. “You need to come?”
“Yes.”
“You think I can make you come?”
“Yeah.” I’m fucking panting. I don’t think it’ll take much. He sits back and undoes his jeans, reaching in to pull his long, not-hard-enough cock out and give it a few strokes.
“Give me a minute, I had a lot of wine,” he says.
Wine. Right. It’s not me. It’s not me.
“Let me suck it for you, baby.” I’m not sure I have a minute. Something bad could happen. Something worse.
I was supposed to be celebrating.
“You wanna suck this cock?” he asks, still working on it.
If talking dirty helps get us there faster, I’m in. “Yeah. I want that fat cock in my mouth. I want to get it so fucking hard.”
“You’re not gonna try to make me come in your mouth, are you?”
“No,” I swear.
“No. Because you want me to fuck you, don’t you?”
“Yes. Fuck, yes, I want that. I need you inside me so fucking bad. I miss you.”
He groans, throwing his head back and giving me a gorgeous view of his neck, a mess of hickeys and bruises in various stages of healing, and I’m not the one who needs to be turned on more here. My chest is tight, and my fingertips feel numb. “Olivier, if you can’t do it—”
“Drew,” he snaps, loudly. “Shut the fuck up.”
He lets go of his cock, and it’s erect. He gives me an annoyed look and moves toward his nightstand. My panic recedes slightly. I watch as he shoves off his jeans and strips off his shirt. I keep staring at him as he lubes up his dick and squirts some more on his fingers for me.
“You gonna spread your legs for me?” he asks, eyeing my position on the bed.
Anything he wants. “Anything.”
“Oh, I get an option?”
“Whatever you want,” I say.
He takes less than a second to think about it. “I want your feet on the floor. I want you bent over the bed.”
I’m on fucking autopilot. It takes me maybe two or three seconds to assume the position and one more second to feel his hand moving up my back, applying firm pressure between my shoulder blades until my face hits the mattress.
I grunt as precum spills from my dick to the floor. There’s so much, it makes a sound like I’m pissing myself. Whatever muscles pushed it out of me continue to vibrate with arousal, and I grip the velvet comforter and growl, edged on anticipation alone. I’m sweating.
Olivier’s fingertips glide from my taint to my hole on a slick slide of lube. “This was the conversation by the way,” he says softly, but I don’t follow. “I didn’t know whether you’d ever want me to fuck you again, and he said I should talk to you about it.”
“You talked to Jeremy about fucking me?”
More precum, another splatter, a dangerous clench in my groin.
Something about how humiliating it is—the position I’m in—that my bottoming for Olivier is a conversation topic—I guess it’s working for me.
Tonight anyway. Maybe I should have him choke me and spit on me, too. Really complete the cycle.
He rubs his cock around the rim of my wide-open hole. It’s back there begging for him. Starving. “I’m just trying to be a good boyfriend,” he says. “You know I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Put it in me. That’s the only thing you need to be doing.”
“Mmm…You don’t want me to stretch you out first?” That voice. Seduction and filth.
“I want you to fuck me. Just fuck me.”
“You gonna come for me?” he asks, fitting his cockhead in place.
“Yes, baby.”
“I like that,” he murmurs before slamming into me so hard, my knees buckle, his hips smack my ass, and a sob rips from my chest, deep and wrenching and completely obliterating.
I come apart at the seams, unraveling and choking on my tears with each successive thrust.
He doesn’t go easy on me. He’s not gentle or tender or loving. He fucks me just like I asked him to and exactly the way I need. Like he read my fucking mind.
Again.
The thought is terrifying, but there’s no opportunity for panic when I have to use all my will to stay on my feet.
He pounds and pounds, and each rough thrust brings a new emotional outburst. A scream. Another sob. A growl and a long series of pathetic whimpers.
I don’t even know if it feels good. I just know he’s in me, and he’s wrecking me, and he’s shoving everything I’ve kept buried deep, deep inside me out in sound waves that are louder than any sound Elodie’s ever made.
I burn and I break over and over again until I’m literally weeping into the covers.
Olivier takes some mercy on my unspent dick, reaching around and jerking me until I finally spill.
As the contractions of a release so fundamentally necessary work through my body, my ass clenches on him in sporadic spasms. He groans my name and fills me with one hot gush after another, his nails digging into my sides, his hair tickling my back.
When, after long minutes, he pulls out, I sink to the floor, and he follows.