Chapter 20 #3
“There now, push against me just a bit, Grace.” I obey, feeling the pressure ease as I bear down. Nate’s mouth opens as he pushes his finger further in. “Fuck that’s good.”
He thrusts slowly as I get used to the sensation.
It’s less pleasant than his tongue, but a tingly warmth is stirring deep inside.
I realise I’m panting, making involuntary humming noises.
It’s like my body understands this as a completely different use for a part that has never been a pleasure zone before.
His free hand presses on my belly, counter pressure that releases even more tension.
Something gives way and he pumps his finger a little faster.
“Are you okay, love?”
I’m barely cogent, words unavailable right now. “Nate, I—”
My voice fades into a whimper as he goes deeper.
“Listen to you,” he murmurs, “making the nicest little sounds.”
He thrusts hard and I mewl. The sensation is close to painful, but it’s also fulsome and hot. Then Nate does something that makes me collapse: he leans right in and puts his tongue on my clit. Pleasure hits me like a blow to the back of the head, the sensations in my backside lancing up and out.
“Yes,” he murmurs, “can you take another one?”
He’s pressing a second finger into me before I can answer. I keen at the stretch. He pauses, then I feel the cool wetness of more lube. And then—
“Fuck. God, please, Nate—”
“You need my mouth on you, sweet little heart?”
“Fucking yes!”
He tongues my clit, slow and sensual, even as he’s speeding up the thrusts, two fingers opening me up.
“Fuck, don’t stop—GOD, so—so good—”
I press my hands over my face, unable to continue, unable to think when he goes even harder, deepening the penetration with each thrust until he’s all the way to his knuckles.
“Yes,” he growls against my pussy, “that’s perfect, Grace. You’re perfect.”
Nate wraps his lips around my clit and I’m coming before I know what’s happening. It’s a clenching orgasm, rippling from back to front, twisting something deep inside. I’m making sounds I can’t control, screams that fade into whimpers. But I’m clenching too hard, too tight.
“Nate,” I whimper, “take them out, please.”
“Are you hurting, love?”
I nod, though it’s more discomfort than pain, as if my body has shrunk back down, clamping on the invasive fingers still buried within. He doesn’t take them out. Instead, he moves his palm to my stomach again, providing that same counter-pressure.
“Breathe through it for me.”
“Nate, I can’t—”
“You can. This is the most important part of your lesson. I need this ass to tighten when you come, then loosen again. So I’m going to press here,” he cups my belly, “and you’re going to relax as much as you can. Ready?”
I nod, panting again, forcing myself to relax into his hand. The relief is almost instantaneous. I let out another moan, releasing the tension more easily this time.
“Oh, that’s so good, Grace,” he murmurs, his fingers thrusting slowly, testing me. “That’s it, stay nice and loose now.”
The pain fades until it’s gone. It’s like my orgasm flicked a switch inside, tightening me up so much it hurt. Now the thrusts have become something more like a massage.
“There we go,” he murmurs, deepening the penetration. “This is exactly what I want.”
“Are you—” I swallow, trying to keep the loose feeling even as I tense up, “going to put your—yourself back there?”
“So shy, even when I’m knuckle deep in her ass,” he murmurs, his eyes on the spot where he’s increasing the speed.
I start feeling the tension build again, though it’s gentler this time.
“No, Grace. You need more preparation before you get my cock here. Why,” his eyes flick to my face, “do you want it?”
I shake my head, blushing. “No, but I’ve come and you haven’t.”
“That doesn’t matter to me right now. But,” he surprises me by removing both hands, causing me to whine at the withdrawal, “if you go on all fours, I might accommodate you.”
This is a test of some sort. If I obey now, it’ll be confirmation that I care about Nate’s pleasure—that I want him to come.
I glance at the bathroom, my point of retreat.
“Up to you, love,” he murmurs.
I peer at him in the candlelight. He’s utterly unthreatening, kneeling between my legs, his hands in his lap.
“You’ve given me everything I wanted already. Now,” he gives me a small smile, “tell me what you want.”
I look at the hard length straining the crotch of his jeans, the heavy lust in his eyes.
I’ve already given him too much, more than I’ve ever given Nick; more trust, more access, more.
And it was only yesterday I called him a monster.
Instead of feeling bad about it—or guilty or aggrieved—I feel safe.
Even though I’m almost naked while he’s clothed, even though I’m pulsing with the training he gave me. I want to give him more.
So I tell him what I want, though I don’t have the courage to say it aloud. I crawl up the bed, my insides throbbing with new knowledge—a brand new craving he’s placed deep inside—then I get on all fours.