Dilynne #4
His fingers on my clit pick up speed and then he’s moving his fingers inside of me up and down as he strokes me over and over. “Let me feel it. Let me fucking see it, Dilynne.”
“I—I…oh fuck!”
Elliot pulls his fingers from me just as my release hits and a stream of liquid follows. His gaze stays locked on me as he drags his hand through the wetness between my thighs, spreading me open, playing in the mess he’s making of me.
I can’t look away. I never even knew that my body could do this.
And then it hits me.
Elliot has just owned me in a way no other man has.
“That’s it. Such a good fucking girl,” he mumbles before biting the inside of my thigh and then swiping his tongue through me, cleaning me up with his mouth.
My head falls back against the hood of my car, my chest rising and falling as I struggle to take in oxygen and he moves his tongue over my clit again. “Holy shit.”
When he stands, he wipes his mouth on the back of his arm and then kicks off his shoes, pants, and underwear to the side before lining himself up to my entrance. “You ready to be fucked?”
I lift my head and meet his eyes. “Oh God. I just came…”
“I told you my plans for you, Dilynne. If you can’t take it, then I…”
I reach up and pull him down to me by his neck. “Fuck me. Now.”
He enters me fully with one thrust. “With pleasure.”
“Oh.” Thrust. “My.” Thrust. “God.” Thrust.
With his forehead on mine, he pounds into me, harder and harder, almost to the brink of pain from his size.
And God, his size.
God, that piercing.
Jesus, take the wheel because I’m officially not in control anymore.
“So fucking tight. So fucking wet, Dilynne.” His hips slam into the back of my thighs, over and over. “This pussy loves that fucking piercing, doesn’t she?”
“Jesus,” I moan between his thrusts, feeling fuller than I ever have with another man.
Elliot grips my hips so tight, I’m sure he’s going to leave a bruise, but he never relents.
He’s strong, holding me in place, deliberate in the flick of his hips, and takes my nipple into his mouth as he pounds into me, sending every nerve ending in my body on high alert.
“I’m gonna come, Elliot,” I moan as his piercing strokes along my walls, hitting places inside me I didn’t even know existed.
“Yes, baby. Break for me. Soak my cock.” Reaching between us, he rubs my clit again. “You gonna squirt for me again?”
I peer down at the sight of him sliding in and out of me. “I—I don’t know.”
“Let me feel it. Drench the fucking hood of this car, Dilynne.” His lips cover my nipple as he keeps fucking me, bringing me to the edge.
And then I shatter.
Wetness seeps from me, my legs shake as each tremor of pleasure wracks my body, and when Elliot releases my nipple and then finds my mouth, swallowing my screams, I nearly black out.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come, Dilynne,” he tells me when his lips leave mine. “In you or on you, baby?”
“On me,” I pant. “I—I want to see it.”
He picks up his pace, sliding in and out of me a few more times before grunting, “Shit!” When he pulls out of me, his hand wraps around his shaft and pulls, and then white ribbons of his cum paint my stomach.
I watch with bated breath as he marks me, and then when he’s finally done, I lie back on the car, fighting for air.
Elliot’s chest rises and falls with his breaths, but his eyes are locked on me. When I finally look up at him, I say, “Well, that just, uh…happened.”
He smirks. “Yes, it fucking did. Now let me clean you up.”
Once Elliot and I are dressed again, the entire energy in the garage has shifted. For the first time in years, I’m nervous about what comes next.
I shouldn’t be though, right?
That was just years of pent-up sexual frustration that we released.
Oh God. Does that mean that we aren’t going to argue anymore?
How boring.
“Dilynne…” Elliot stares at me, and the energy between us is much more awkward than I expected. “We should probably…”
Pushing a few stray hairs from my face, I shake my head, cutting him off. “I need to finish up in here, Elliot, so…”
He licks his lips, his brows drawn together as if he’s warring with himself over what to say. Thankfully, he doesn’t push me. Instead, he nods reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll talk to you later, then?”
“Uh, yeah. Sounds good.”
“Okay.” Walking over to where I stand, he tips my chin up and then plants a gentle kiss on my lips, the touch completely contradictory to the way he just fucked me within an inch of my life like he said he would. “Good night. Be safe getting out of here.”
“I always am.”
My brain is telling me to speak up, to say something else before he leaves, but for once, I’m finally at a loss for words.
I got what I wanted out of him, and it seems he did the same.
So why do I feel like something is unfinished between us after what just happened?
I don’t get a chance to contemplate it further, though, because within a minute, he’s opening the steel bay door, waiting for me to close it behind him.
And then he’s gone.
Or so I thought.
But when I finally pull out of the garage an hour later, I notice his truck is still in the parking lot.
And he doesn’t leave until I do.