Chapter 11 #6
He presses his finger to my clitoris, and the bolt of lightning that strikes me then is blinding and all-consuming and white-hot. My whole body spasms, arching off the bed, and I scream.
"Jesus, honey," he growls, and claims my mouth in a hot, fast kiss. “So goddamn responsive. Hot as fuck."
And then he nuzzles my breast and suckles on my nipple and swirls his finger in a circle around my clitoris and the lightning strikes and strikes and strikes and strikes each time his finger swirls, with each movement and each shift of pressure and speed, and he seems to know how to read my every slightest, subtlest response to his touch.
"Riley…" I whimper. "Oh…oh my."
His lips curve against my breast. "Oh yeah?"
"Yes."
"More?"
I nod. “Yes. More. Please."
"You're gonna come for me, aren't you?" he demands, and his finger circles—faster and faster.
My hips feel as if they are tied to his movements—each swirl, each circle, each swipe and flick, my hips move. They buck, shift, push. Seeking. Needing.
"Tell me you're gonna come for me, honey."
"I…" a rippling, shearing wave of intense pleasure grips me, then, seizes me with unrelenting ferocity, and I cannot manage words.
He touches me, and I can only arch and buck my hips into his touch and cry out loud in a gasping half-scream. "So fucking sexy, Cadence," he growls. "Come for me, sweetheart. Let me watch you shatter for me. Scream for me. Scream so loud the fucking stars hear you."
That abyssal precipice nears. I shudder at its edge, and his touch pushes me nearer and nearer, and now I do not fear the oblivion awaiting in that unknown space but welcome it. I seek it. Strive for it.
I give in to instinct. Abandon all control, all thought, all need.
There is only what my body craves:
Him.
This.
More.
I grip his wrist with one hand and cover his hand with the other, press his hand against my sex, begging him in the only way I can to never, ever stop.
I grind myself against his touch. My hips buck and fly against him, and his finger swirls and circles and swipes faster and faster…
The edge crashes over me all at once.
A scream rips out of my throat as a battering ram of ecstasy I never knew could exist leaves me shaking and sweating, driving wild, desperate hips against his finger, pushing my sex against his touch to beg for more.
I am weeping, but it is with ecstasy, screaming but with desire vanquished, overcome but blessedly so.
Wave after wave smashes through me, and then he slips his finger inside me and moves it in and out through my channel and the waves dissolve and commingle and merge and shatter into something new, and another scream shudders out of me and that becomes a whimper and then a sob.
This is not merely pleasure or bliss or ecstasy or anything I have words for in any of the languages with which I am familiar.
It consumes me.
Time ceases to have meaning.
He plunges his finger inside me, and then circles my clitoris, and then plunges it back inside me.
And then, when I think it will finally end, he kisses my mouth and then my breasts and then my belly and then his shoulders are between my thighs and his stubble scratches the insides of my thighs and—
"RILEY!" I scream as his tongue slides, wet and hot, up my seam.
"Keep coming for me, honey," he growls. "Scream my name." Another hot lick. "Tell the stars who's making you come, baby."
"Y-you!" I gasp, arching and bucking helplessly against his hungry mouth.
"Me what?"
"You…you are…oh! Oh my! Oh—ohmygosh—oh goodness me oh my…” I clutch his head as he seems to be attempting to devour me whole.
Or, at least, my clitoris.
Despite the ferocity of his hunger, though, his mouth is exquisitely gentle upon my tender flesh.
His lips are soft and wet, and his tongue hot and insistent.
His finger penetrates my sex, and his mouth plunders my clitoris, and the world spins around me and my whole body bucks and clenches and spasms in time with his moving finger and driving tongue.
And then, just when I thought I could not come again, or come any harder—I do.
My orgasm seems to break apart, and from the shards and shrapnel of it emerges something new, something more.
I grasp his head in my hands and brace my feet against the truck bed and buck against his mouth, screaming shrill and loud.
He does not relent.
The ecstasy seems to overlap, waves crashing in on themselves and ripping and expanding, and I lose even the ability to control what my hips do, what my hands do, what my mouth does.
“Riley! Oh! Oh! Oh!" My feet dig against my backside and I grab his hand and guide it to my breast—he pinches my nipples and I scream again.
I clutch his head to my vagina and hand to my breast, and shake uncontrollably, no longer screaming but weeping.
Sobbing.
Wave after waver after wave of shredding, dissolving ecstasy rolls through, until I cannot tolerate it anymore. "I cannot—I…please, I—please—no more. I cannot take any more."
He listens to me.
His finger leaves me and his mouth too, and his hands cradle me to his chest. I smell myself on his breath when he kisses me.
It is not unpleasant. Strange, familiar, and unfamiliar at once. But not unpleasant.
I feel…wrung out.
Shaken.
Almost broken—but beautifully so.
Abruptly exhausted, I rest my cheek against his chest and listen to his heartbeat.
"Riley?" I murmur.
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
"I believe you have given me my first orgasm."
He chuckles. “Yeah, babe, I think so," he whispers in my ear. "You had multiple, you know. Three, maybe four."
He sounds…pleased.
Aroused.
"Thank you," I whisper.
He just laughs again. "Believe me when I say the pleasure was all mine."
"My eyes," I mumble. "They will not stay open."
"So close 'em, sweetheart," he murmurs. "I got you." He kisses the top of my head.
"But what about—"
He touches my lips—I smell myself on them. Again, not unpleasant, only strange. "Hush, baby. Plenty of time for that later. I've got you."
I let my eyes slide closed.
I drift off to sleep with the feel of Riley's hands roaming my naked body. Not to arouse, now, but to soothe. To calm.
The thought which percolates at the edges of my mind as I drift off to sleep is a worrying one:
Now how will I leave?
Now that I know such incredible joy exists, how can I leave him?