Chapter 37 Sadie #3
The orgasm slammed into her with brutal force, stealing her breath, ripping a cry from her throat as her body locked tight around his fingers.
Her thighs trembled violently, heels digging into the bed as he kept going, tongue working her clit relentlessly while his fingers thrust in and out, coaxing every last ounce of pleasure from her until she was nothing but a panting, writhing mess beneath him.
When he finally lifted his head, his lips and chin were slick with her. His eyes burned with something raw.
He slid his fingers through her again, slow and filthy, watching the way she shuddered at the touch, collecting everything she’d given him, then brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean.
Like he was starved. Like she was the only thing that had ever tasted right.
This man was crazy. And if she wasn’t already half-gone, that would’ve done it.
Her heart thudded against her ribs, breath coming in short, shaky gasps as he sat back on his heels and tugged off his T-shirt in one fluid motion. And shit, just the sight of him made her dizzy.
His body was all brutal beauty. Broad chest dusted with dark hair, shoulders wide and solid, abs carved into ridges so defined they looked like they’d been etched by goddamn lightning. Her fingers itched to touch him, to drag her hands over every cut and curve, to feel the tight muscles tense.
He leaned down, one hand braced beside her head, the other sliding under her bunched-up tank top. His fingers skimmed the bare skin of her lower back, trailing over the curve of her ass before he pulled the shirt over her head in one swift motion.
Her hands slid down his abs, tracing every taut ridge, following the sharp V of his hips.
She fumbled with the button on his jeans, her breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts.
The need clawing through her now was frantic.
She shoved the denim down in a rush, knuckles grazing the dark trail of hair that disappeared beneath his waistband.
When her fingers dipped lower, skimming the edge of him, his whole body jolted.
He shuddered, a guttural sound ripping from his throat as his breath hitched, like he was barely holding himself together. Then her fingers wrapped around the thick, hot weight of his cock, and her own breath caught hard in her throat.
God. She’d had him in her mouth before. Sucked him until he was gasping her name, hips thrusting, fists tangled in her hair. But feeling him now, pulsing and heavy in her hand, made her even wetter. He was so big it made her pulse throb just imagining the stretch.
“Fuck, baby…” he groaned. She stroked him slowly, teasingly, letting her thumb glide over the swollen crown, collecting the precum and spreading it with a wicked twist of her wrist. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, lips parted.
Her core clenched tight, just imagining the way he’d fill her until she couldn’t think.
He started to pull back, reaching for his wallet to get a condom. She caught his wrist and shook her head.
“I want to feel you,” she whispered, voice rough and trembling with need.
The words slipped out before she could think, before logic could catch up to the fire tearing through her body. She never did this. Never let anyone inside her without protection. But right now? She didn’t care. She needed him. The raw friction of skin on skin.
He froze like she’d slapped him. His eyes locked on hers, wide and dark and hungry, as if she’d just said the filthiest thing he'd ever heard.
“Raw, sweetheart?” His voice was low and ragged, barely more than a growl. “You want me to take you raw?”
She nodded, pulse pounding in her ears. “I’m on the pill,” she said again, softer this time, breathless, her thighs already pressing together at the thought. “I want to feel every inch. Just you. Please.” She reached for him, desperate.
His jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared like he was struggling to breathe. His chest heaved, muscles twitching like he was barely holding himself back.
“Jesus fuck, Sadie.” He stepped closer, grabbed her chin, tilted her face up to look at him. “You are gonna kill me.”
She barely had time to breathe before he was between her legs, his cock pressed against her soaked folds, dragging through her wetness with a slow roll of his hips. The thick head caught on her clit, and she cried out, arching into him, nails digging into his biceps.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, grinding against her. “Dripping for me. You want this cock that bad, sweetheart?”
She could barely speak. Her throat was dry, her brain hazy with want. “God, yes,” she breathed. “I need it. I need you now.”
His forehead pressed to hers, both of them panting, the thick head of his cock nudging at her entrance.
“You sure?” he asked, voice rough, trembling with restraint.
Instead of answering, she wrapped her legs around his waist, heels locking behind him as her hips arched to meet his. Her lips brushed his ear, her voice a breathy tease. “Don’t make me beg.”
With a rough groan, he pushed into her, slow and steady, sinking deeper with every inch.
The stretch hit fast—sharp, intense, and so damn good.
She gasped, body tightening around him, slick and desperate.
He filled her completely, thick and hard, pushing past the resistance until he was buried to the hilt.
“Shit,” he gritted out, every sinew of his body flexing with the effort not to lose it right then. She gasped, her back arching off the bed as her nails dug into the hard planes of his shoulders.
“Oh my God—” she whimpered, her voice cracking around the overwhelming fullness.
He was so deep it felt like he touched something inside her that no one ever had before.
Every part of her trembled beneath the stretch, thighs shaking from the slow, perfect burn but beneath it all was a pressure so sweet and devastating, it made her want to cry.
“Breathe, baby,” he rasped against her temple, brushing sweat-damp hair from her face.
He pressed deeper with each slow thrust, letting her feel every thick, pulsing inch of him. A whimper slipped from her lips, and he answered with a trail of hot kisses down her throat, branding her with the heat of his mouth.
She dragged her hands over the hard lines of his back, feeling the tremble beneath his skin, the way he held himself in check like it mattered to him that this wasn't rushed.
When he leaned back to look at her, eyes slightly unfocused, jaw clenched, skin flushed, something inside her gave way. The way he looked at her made her feel more than just wanted. It made her feel seen, as if every part of her that had learned to hide suddenly had permission to exist.
God, what is this? Sex had never felt like this before.
It had always been about the rush, never about being fully present in it.
But this was different. He wasn’t just fucking her.
He was with her. Every touch, every movement, felt like he was reaching for something deeper, like he wasn’t just in her body but wrapped around something much more fragile.
She reached up, capturing his mouth again, needing to taste it.
When he slid his hand between them and found her clit, and the second he touched her, she shattered.
Her orgasm hit like a supernova, blinding and fierce.
She cried out against his mouth, clenching hard around him, body jerking as white-hot pleasure exploded through her in waves.
“Sadie–” he growled, hips slamming into hers once, twice.
Then he was coming too, buried to the hilt, his cock pulsing deep inside her as he spilled everything he had with a groan that sounded like surrender.
His entire body locked up, chest pressed tight to hers, breath ragged.
He collapsed onto her, his body slick and heavy, pinning her to the mattress. She didn’t want him to move.
She wanted him fused to her, written into her skin, tangled into every heartbeat. She smoothed her palms over his back, tracing the sheen of sweat, the steady, slowing beat of his heart against her chest.
She soaked him in: the scent of his skin, the soft rasp of his breath, the way his fingers still tangled loosely in her hair, like he needed to touch her.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she was present. No past. No future. Just the two of them, suspended in the quiet between heartbeats.
And she felt it. A longing not just for this moment, but for all the moments after.
She wanted more. More of his voice in the mornings.
More of his hands on her skin. More of the way he made the whole world fade until it was just the two of them, wrapped up in something that felt infinite.
She pressed her lips to his damp temple and closed her eyes, wishing the moment could stretch on forever.