Tyler #2
I climbed over her, guiding her back into the pillows, my mouth never leaving hers as I kissed her with a slow, possessive depth.
I pulled back an inch, my gaze pinning her in place.
“You listen to me, O. You do everything I say. You don’t hide from me.
You need to come, you do it. You wanna cry, you cry.
You wanna scream my name? Then scream it. ”
Her chest heaved, she let out a broken. “Okay.”
I pressed my lips to her throat, sucked on that sweet spot that made her gasp. “You’re mine. Understand?”
“Yes, Tyler.”
“Good.”
I lined up at her entrance, my eyes locked on hers as I slowly began to slide in, feeling her, stretching her open. Her back arched, nails biting into my shoulders. I gave her a moment, letting her adjust to my size.
“Oh my God…”
“That’s it, sweetheart. Take my cock,” I murmured into the corner of her mouth. “You’re doing so fucking good.” The feeling of being inside her was almost too much to bear.
I pulled back and thrust again, a little harder this time. I couldn’t tell which of us moaned the loudest.
“Fuck, that’s it baby. I want you loud.”
Her hands scrambled for the sheets, her knuckles in white knots. “You feel…fuck…you feel so good.”
“That’s just the beginning,” I rasped, slamming back in. “You’re gonna come on my cock, Orla. Swear to fucking God.”
I shifted, tilting her hips, hitting that spot that made her sob over and over again until she was unravelling from the inside out.
“There,” I muttered. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s your spot.”
“Yes, oh fuck, yes…”
“Don’t run from it,” I ordered. “Feel it. Take it.”
Her breath caught with a mix of pleasure and disbelief. “Tyler…”
“Right here,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers. “Stay with me.”
She stiffened beneath me, her breath catching in the back of her throat as I continued to drive into her, pushing deeper and deeper until there was no space left between us.
I felt the tremors start, a frantic shaking that radiated through her skin and into mine.
Then, she finally gave in. A low, helpless sound tore through her.
I held her face in my hands, whispering filthy praise against her lips. Watching the pleasure hit—not the hollow disappointment she’d become accustomed to—was the most devastatingly beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“That’s it,” I coaxed softly, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “You with me?”
She gasped, dazed after what her body had just felt. “Jesus, what was that?”
I kissed her temple, though I felt myself shaking. “That was you, baby. Finally letting go.”
I barely gave her a chance to recover before I flipped her over gently, dragged her hips back so that I could slide in deep again.
“On your elbows,” I said, voice wrecked. “Arch your back—yeah, just like that. Fuck…”
She was writhing beneath me, body bouncing with every thrust.
“You feel that? How deep I am?”
“Yes…oh God, yes…”
“You gonna come again for me?”
“I—Tyler, I don’t know if I can…”
“You can.” I gripped her hips tighter. “And you will. I want you to touch yourself, baby”
She reached down, circling her clit in time with my thrusts, her thighs shaking. Her voice cracked on every breath, every whimper.
“Tyler—”
“That’s it,” I urged, pounding into her, losing myself in the sound of her. “Come for me again. Let me have it.”
Within seconds, she shattered loudly again, the sound tearing me apart. I couldn’t hold back any longer. Not with the way she was arched beneath me, and certainly not when she was looking up at me with those wide, doe eyes, seeing the real me for the first time.
One second I was holding on by a thread, and the next I was gone, spilling hot into the condom with a deep, shuddering thrust. I chased every last pulse of it, hips grinding into hers, my whole body tightening, before finally giving out.
For a long moment, I just hovered there, my arms shaking, staring down at her. I couldn't quite believe the wreckage we'd made of the sheets
Because fuck…
I was finally here. With her. Against her. Inside her.
Everything I’d been wanting, hurting for, trying so hard not to touch was wrapped around me, breathing under me, letting me in.
When my arms gave out, I dragged her with me as I dropped onto the bed, pulling her into my chest because I needed her to know she was here for a reason. Our breathing was still ravaged. Heavy with everything we had just done.
It hit me with the force of a physical blow just how fucking lucky I was. After months of wanting her, months of pacing the sidelines of her life and trying to be exactly what she needed, she was finally here, in my arms. No longer as my physio or some sort of colleague. She was mine.
I felt it the second her body relaxed, the way she melted into me like she’d never let herself do this before. Or if she had, never like this. Never with anyone who wanted all of her.
And Christ, knowing she was just as in it as I was, wrecked me.
When her mind finally caught up with her body, she tilted her head upwards to look at me and whispered, “You meant it, didn’t you? Everything you said.”
“Every word,” I murmured, tracing slow circles between her shoulder blades. “I was worried sick about you last night.”
She exhaled, a long, trembling release, letting go of everything she’d been holding since the day we met. Her body stilled against mine, and as I felt that quiet settle in her, the moment felt safe enough to ask, “What changed, Orla?”
“I don’t know. It’s just…you. The way you’ve been. Even when I’ve been nothing but a cold-hearted bitch to you.”
I huffed out a soft laugh and kissed her hair. “You can be a bitch every day if it means I get to do that again.”
She tipped her head back, smiling up at me shy and luminous and so fucking beautiful it almost took my breath away. I bent in and kissed her slowly, making sure she understood everything I couldn’t find the words for.
When we broke apart, I brushed my nose to hers, my voice barely above a whisper. “And this—I need this again, too. Every day you’ll let me.”
Her smile was devastating. “We’ll see.”
But the way she pulled me back in, mouth warm and sure against mine.
Yeah.
It felt a hell of a lot like yes.