Chapter 14 Reverie #3
My pussy floods, and the urge to grind into him becomes overwhelming, though I refrain because I know if it’s torture for me, then it is for him, too. Still, I let him taste a small moan, prompting him to deepen the kiss, searching for more.
I retreat as he surges forward, attempting to deepen it further.
I keep our lips locked but deny him access.
He inhales deeply through his nose, inflating his chest where another deep growl rumbles within its depths.
Still, I refuse him, using my hold on either side of his jaw to keep him somewhat contained.
I can feel his muscles swelling with frustration, and when I let him sip on another moan, his hands tighten around the bench until the wood creaks, as if he’s trying to snap it in half.
I smile against him, and whatever fortitude he possesses slips and crashes at our feet.
He comes alive, his arms snapping around me, one hand fisting my hair while the other palms my ass, wrenching a sharp gasp from my throat when he squeezes it and roughly jerks me against him.
He takes advantage of the opening and dives his tongue past my teeth.
Lightning strikes the moment it meets mine, nearly sending me out of my skin.
My hands dive into his hair, gripping the soft strands as he brings me impossibly closer, molding every inch of me against him, his muscles rippling as he goes from complacency to devouring me.
His tongue is demanding as it lashes at mine, setting off firework after firework until I’m practically climbing his body just to get closer, though there isn’t a single millimeter of space between us.
My pussy pulses with need, and a deep ache forms within, practically screaming to be filled.
Giving in, I grind against him, a growl and a mewl exchanging between our lips.
The two sounds seem to loosen the knot around our vocal cords, and suddenly, needy whimpers and breathy moans are slipping free.
It’s impossible to tell whose are whose, only that the two of us swallow them down eagerly.
I rock against him again, shuddering from the sharp pleasure that rockets through me. His hand on my ass becomes bruising as he uses his grip to guide my rolling hips along the hard ridge of his cock, both of us desperate for the friction.
Once I start, I can’t stop. It feels so fucking good.
I tell myself I’m not losing control, I’m just letting myself ride the waves.
But then my head is snapping back on a loud moan while his mouth descends to my nipple, capturing it between his teeth.
My eyes roll, and he groans before sucking harshly, making my hips stutter from the sheer force of the pleasure commanding me.
It borders on painful, and I don't know if it's that combination or because the angle is just right as I grind against him, but I'm already so close to tipping over the edge.
“Dread, wait,” I gasp, the euphoria climbing further when he nips at my nipple. “You’re gonna make me come.”
He growls, releasing my hair to grab the other side of my ass. He retreats from my breast, though he stays close, his hot breath blowing across the hard peak and sending shivers down my spine.
“What a needy little pussy,” he says, the deep timbre of his voice rough and harsh. It travels straight to my core, and I let out another hoarse mewl. “Haven’t even got my cock inside you yet, and you’re ready to come all over it.”
“Nng.” I try to speak, but my vision tunnels and my entire body tenses, centering its focus between my legs.
“That’s it,” he whispers before releasing a delicious moan he should never give out for free. It should be behind an egregious paywall just to hear it. “Let me see how pretty you look when you come, darling.”
Never mind.
It cost me my sanity.
“Oh, fuck, Dread,” I cry out, my head kicking back again.
The pressure bursts, like a light bulb exploding. Then, my vision snuffs, casting me in the dark.
My eyes roll and hips convulse as the orgasm slams into me. My spine bows, forcing him to band an arm around my waist so I don’t fall back. The ecstasy is sharp, causing my core to contract almost painfully.
“Fuck yeah,” Dread groans, his hot breath now fanning across the underside of my jaw.
I’m faintly aware of him watching me break apart. I only hope he’s fast enough to catch all my pieces before they hit the floor.
I cling to him much like I did when we stood at the edge of the pool. My brain will never truly understand how we got from there to here—where along the line I decided giving my breath to Dread is better than letting the water take it away.
I suppose it's not much different than dying when I end up at heaven’s gates, anyway.
The orgasm ebbs, and I drop my chin with a breathless moan, my mouth nearly colliding with his parted lips. His stare burns into me intently, picking apart every inch of my face as I slowly come down. He reveres me as if I’m a celestial being he’s seeing for the first time.
The butterflies in my stomach mutate the second I dare meet his eyes, becoming something more monstrous.
Their wings beat with a force that makes my insides feel as if I’m free-falling from a mountain.
It’s too much, too intense, so I crash my lips against his, needing an escape.
It’s another explosion that takes my breath away, but I’m so eager to bury the feeling in my stomach, I dive my tongue inside his mouth in hopes I’ll be safer inside him.
He groans while I claw at his T-shirt, followed by the distinct sound of fabric tearing. He pulls back to rip it over his head before slamming his mouth to mine once more, the move so quick, my brain hardly processes the brief moment we separated.
Except I know we did, because now, his bare skin fuses with mine, only heightening the electricity passing between us. My hands tug at his hair while his explore my naked flesh, leaving a devastating effect in their wake.
The energy surrounding us is as potent as it is volatile, and if cities lived along the planes of our stomachs, they’d be in turmoil, their fragile structures no match beneath the storms raging between us.
And they will undoubtedly be left in ruins.
Suddenly, he stands, keeping me cradled tightly against him. My stomach dips as I go weightless. Instinctively, my ankles cross over his lower back a moment before my spine slams into the unforgiving bench, his body crowding over me as he ravages my mouth.
The shock of it is enough to jolt me out of the trance I’d fallen into.
Fuck, I need to regain control before I lose myself to him completely.
I shove my hand between our bodies and slip it beneath the band of his sweatpants, instantly finding his hard cock and wrapping my fingers around it tightly.
The heel of his palm slams against the bench above my head, a visceral groan unleashing from his throat as his own composure slips from his grasp.
“Fuuuck,” he hisses, his chin rising, exposing a thick neck with veins roping down and over his broad shoulders.
His size is even more intimidating now that I can feel it, filling my hand until just the tips of my fingers touch.
His flesh is both hot and incredibly soft, but beneath is rock hard and unforgiving.
Forcing away the trepidation of fitting it in…
well, any part of me, I focus on moving my palm up and down, twisting my wrist as I do.
Jesus, even his length is panic-inducing, yet when he rolls his hips into me with a groan, I mourn that it’s only my hand experiencing it.
With the other, I push at his sweatpants, prompting him to help me slide them down his legs.
All the while, I never let go, instead focusing on his pleasure.
Deep down, I know I’m terrified of what he’s going to do to me, and I’m only delaying the inevitable, but I’m happy to be a chickenshit.
I may even get lucky and make him come before he gets the chance to fuck me.
It wouldn’t be my fault he came prematurely, and I’d get to walk away with my hips aligned, pelvis perfectly assembled, and vagina intact.
“Let me taste,” I whisper, my free hand pushing at his chest.
That seems to give him pause, and my heart drops as he resists. For only the second time since I sat on his lap, I cautiously meet his burning stare.
It arrests the oxygen in my lungs, and my stomach flips again, even more wildly than last time. I want nothing more than to look away, the intensity of it far too much for my fragile nervous system. Except I can’t this time. I’m paralyzed.
I work to swallow as he carefully dissects my expression. I move my hand again, hoping to distract him from whatever the fuck he’s looking for, but his fingers close around my wrist tightly. My heart sinks like a penny in a wishing well, where it’ll join my other unanswered prayers.
“You think I wouldn’t notice you thirsting over my cock?” he questions, his voice raw and deep.
Another rough swallow. “Would you prefer I run away from it?”
His lips twitch, and my discomfort beneath his scrutiny grows.
“Isn’t that exactly what you’re trying to do?”
My mouth parts, and I try to give him an ‘are you stupid?’ look, but it falters when he leans in, skating his lips against mine and eliciting vicious little currents with each brush.
“I think we both know you wouldn’t be so eager to get on your knees for me unless you had a motive,” he rasps. I try to shake my head, but it’s weak. “It hurts a lot less to swallow my cock than it does to have your pussy ripped in half, doesn’t it?”
Fuck.
I hate that he can read my intentions so easily.
My breath shudders while I rack my brain for a believable excuse, but I’m at an utter loss. After another beat of weighted silence, he chuckles and places a soft kiss against my lips while firmly removing my hand from his dick.
“Dread,” I croak pleadingly, but I fail at finding the rest of my words.
“Shh,” he whispers, the gentle sound having the opposite effect. It doesn’t calm me—it fucking terrifies me.
My pulse kicks up a beat, hammering against my throat as his lips drop to my chin with another soft kiss. Inch by inch, they trail down my throat, becoming wetter and sharper as he descends. By the time he reaches my left nipple, I’m trembling, and my pussy is weeping.
I’m desperate to go back to pleasuring him. The first orgasm was devastating, only confirming he’s going to ruin me, and I’m not prepared for that. Not even fucking close.
His hot mouth closes over my nipple again, and my back bows, those currents intensifying as he laps at the hard peak.
I squeeze my eyes shut, a whimper leaking from my throat when his teeth join in on the torture.
I feel every touch directly between my legs, but there’s nothing to assuage the ache.
There’s just enough space between us to prevent me from getting any friction, and with my legs spread around his hips, I’m unable to rub them together.
“Dread,” I whine, rolling my hips and meeting nothing but air.
He ignores me, switching to the other breast for a few moments, drawing out my torment until I’m desperate for him to do something to give me relief.
I’m panting by the time he dips to lick down the center of my stomach to my navel, forcing my legs to fall away from his waist. He nips at the sensitive skin there, wringing a whimper from my lips.
His hands grab the undersides of my thighs and spread them wider, only for him to release a pained groan. His curled fist flies to his mouth, and he bites down, his eyes locked between my legs.
My cheeks burn, and I’m tempted to snap them closed. Can’t say I’ve ever had a man look at me so closely, and it’s extremely unnerving.
“Fuck, Rev,” he whispers under his breath, sounding almost tortured.
My heart plummets, convinced something is wrong.
I’m terrified to ask, but not knowing feels worse.
Just as I gather the courage to, he’s moving again.
But instead of backing away like I expected, he continues to descend until he’s on his feet, crouching at the end of the bench.
He circles his arms around my thighs and tugs me to the edge, extremely fucking close to his mouth.
I immediately panic.
“Wait, wait, what are you doing?” I rush out, my hands snapping to his shoulders.
His eyes lift, peering up at me beneath black strands and dark eyelashes, and I damn near choke on my tongue.
“I’m hungry,” he responds simply, as if that’s a completely normal fucking thing to say.
I’m not dense enough to be oblivious to his intentions, but I’ve never had a man bother with that, even though they expected it from me. It was something I accepted as typical, having heard plenty of women complain about their boyfriends preferring not to go down on them.
I never minded because I thought it’d feel weird, anyway, and now that Dread—of all fucking people—is the one who wants to test that has me on edge.
“That… that’s not necessary,” I say, propping up on an elbow so I can drag myself out from beneath him. He holds tight, looking almost betrayed—like I’m attempting to take away his favorite toy. “I’m already wet, so you don’t need to do that.”
He tugs me closer in response, holding me more firmly against him and preventing me from escaping. His stare is both intense and inquisitive, and it’s making me as uncomfortable as the proximity of his mouth to my vagina.
“Have you never had your cunt licked?” he asks bluntly.
Jesus fucking Christ.
My cheeks burn hot as I defensively respond, “No. No one has needed to before. They got me wet just fine.”
His scarred brow quirks, unimpressed with my response.
“I’m not eating your pussy to get you wet, Reverie,” he says, the deep timbre of his voice bordering on anger. “You have an ocean between your legs.” My mouth flops open, and it feels like he lit a match, setting my entire body aflame.
“Then why bother?” I mutter, shifting nervously as my unease grows.
“Because you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, and I need to know how sweet you taste,” he answers casually. I blink, surprised he’d admit something like that. “And if you taste like how I think you do, I’m going to want everything you have to give me. Do you know how I get that?”
Hesitantly, I shake my head.
“By making you come in my mouth so I can fucking drink it.”
My mouth drops open again while he turns his focus to my center with a deep groan, his brow furrowing and teeth biting his bottom lip.
“You need to learn one very important difference between us.”
I can think of a million, but the only word I can manage is, “What?”
He leans closer, his hot breath warming my sensitive clit, causing my stomach to tighten. Then, those frosted eyes flick up to meet mine beneath black strands.
“I’ve never been afraid to drown.”