Chapter 32 Reverie #5
His response is to suck on his thumb before pressing it against my asshole and pushing it inside me. My mouth drops wider, but he gives me no time to process the feeling before his cock retreats and slams into me again with a sexy groan.
However, the only sound I’m capable of is a gurgled mewl as pleasure zips up my spine. Instinctively, I arch my back, and it’s the final nail in the coffin. He offers no warning, no ‘hold on tight,’ before he truly begins to fuck me.
I choke on a scream as he pounds into me, his staccato moans barely rising above our skin loudly clapping.
All sound suspends in my throat as euphoria washes over the entirety of my body.
It feels fucking incredible, especially when he applies pressure against the thin barrier between his thumb and cock.
“Kellan! Oh my God,” I whimper, digging my nails harder into the seats, desperately trying to keep my voice low. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, fuck!”
“What’s wrong, baby?” he grinds out. “You think you can look so pretty sucking on my cock while refusing to let me touch you, then come all over your fingers and think I won’t remind you who owns this pussy?”
I try to answer, but all that comes out is a, “Nnng.”
“Let me hear your words, Rev,” he snarls. “’Cause I don’t care who sees me fucking this greedy little cunt. It’s mine to eat and fuck whenever I want. This is my pussy, you hear me?”
My brain latches on to him saying he doesn’t care who sees, and I make the mistake of gasping out, “No!” only to realize he asked a question after it’s out of my mouth. He’s fucking me too hard for me to catch up and correct myself in time.
“No? Do I need to drag your ass out of this car and let anyone who passes by watch? I’ll pin you on the goddamn hood and fuck your ass, Reverie, and I’ll let them watch every goddamn second of it. Don’t fucking test me.”
The threat sends a healthy dose of panic through me, yet a sick thrill flutters in my stomach when the image he paints shoves its way to the forefront of my brain.
In the safety of my mind, imagining him throwing me onto his hood, pinning my knees to my ears, and taking my ass while strangers watch…
My inner walls contract, and my stomach flips again from how much it excites me.
“It’s yours, it’s yours,” I say quickly, the words breathless and jumbled. “It’s your pussy, Kellan. Yours to eat and fuck whenever you please.”
He moans loudly in response, and though there’s a small voice somewhere in the back of my brain, panicking about someone hearing, not a single cell in my body is inclined to stop.
Little cries leak from my throat as he fucks me ruthlessly, and all I can do is hold on and try not to scream. It’s too much and just right all at once. The spot he’s hitting has entire galaxies floating in my vision, yet I can’t fucking breathe from how deep inside me he is.
“Where the fuck you goin’, baby?” he growls, lifting my hips and roughly dragging my knees back to the edge of the seat.
I hadn’t even realized I was slowly inching forward, like my body was subconsciously searching for a reprieve.
His voice drops into a dark, condescending rasp. “Tryin’ to run from me?”
“Uh-uh,” I gasp, shaking my head.
My tongue feels far too heavy to form a single coherent word. Instead, small, sharp cries break free, shapeless sounds that waver in frequency and pitch yet communicate how I’m feeling all the same.
However, he drags me back again with a snarl, his words graveled as he questions me. “Then why the fuck do you keep running, huh? You tellin’ me this sweet little cunt can’t handle my fat cock? That it, baby?”
Even if I could answer, he doesn’t give me the chance. His palm cracks over the apple of my ass cheek, and starbursts explode over my vision. The sound I make is somewhere between a breathless, maniacal laugh and an eager moan, and the pleasure is so goddamn intense, a shiver racks my entire body.
He does it again, and my stomach tightens as I skyrocket to the edge of the Earth. I’m overlooking the precipice and seeing nothing but an endless abyss below. Once I fall, I’ll never find my way back again.
I’m rendered silent once more. I bow my head as my brows climb my forehead, my jaw unhinges, and my eyes roll.
I know I’m making an ugly face, but I’m far more concerned about if we’ll find the bottom half of it once this is over.
Drool spills from my mouth, but I hardly notice, even as it pools on the console.
And then, he pulls his thumb out from the tight ring of muscle, only to replace it with his middle finger, sinking it deep inside me and pressing against his cock.
I have no choice but to lose my fucking mind and dive right over the edge.
I have enough self-preservation to rest my forearm over the console, bending to bite it as I explode.
A phantom hand reaches inside my body, tears out my soul from its vessel, and rips it in two before releasing them.
My vision expands until I’m looking down on the two of us, my consciousness floating in the breeze while my soul time travels, leaps across quantum planes, and dances between realities.
Two parts of myself separated yet experiencing everything as one.
I’m everywhere and nowhere, slowly and all at once.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Rev!” The words spill from Dread’s mouth, slamming into me one last time before erupting, his hand on my hip squeezing tight enough to bruise while he pumps me full of cum.
I’m aware of it, and I feel it. I even hear his hoarse moans as he struggles to keep his knees from collapsing. Yet, it’s all a distant echo amongst the utter euphoria filling every crack and crevice my soul once inhabited.
Then, as sudden as the snap of a god’s fingers, I’m pulled back into my body with a staggering force, like the release of a rubber band stretched to twice its size.
It’s devastating as all the sensations flood my system—the ecstasy, my entire body violently trembling, the dull pain from biting into my arm, Dread’s bruising hold on my hip, and the burning across my backside.
At some point, he must’ve removed his finger, and part of me is glad to not have the added feeling.
Because this is all… too much.
A sob bursts from my throat, and my face instantly twists as tears rush to my eyes. I’m so fucking overwhelmed by it all, yet I’d sacrifice my soul to feel this for the rest of my life.
It’s instinctive to swallow down the tears, even as a storm ravages my insides until it’s nothing more than a barren wasteland.
Gradually, the orgasm fades, though aftershocks torment me, making it nearly impossible not to twitch and jerk while groans pour out of me.
Dread grunts breathlessly as he pulls out, unleashing a waterfall of cum down the backs of my quivering thighs.
“Stay just like that, baby,” he orders breathlessly. I don’t even need to turn and look to know he’s sliding out his phone to snap a picture.
The fucker is absolutely obsessed with taking pictures.
Except now, he uploads everything to our secret drive so I can see, too.
He even added the ones he took before he created it, including the picture from the blow job I gave him before my father called, along with the one he took the night he left me out in a goddamn blizzard to—almost—die.
Admittedly, I’ve only been brave enough to look at them one time while he wasn’t around, and my stomach bottomed out before I promptly closed it again, conflicted and thoroughly turned on.
My chest heaves and my legs quake violently. It feels like I have noodles for lungs, preventing me from inhaling properly. It’s making me dizzy as hell, so I weakly slump forward and sloppily drop my hips to the seat again, though I attempt to keep the worst of the wetness off from it.
Sweaty, shaking, and a little stunned, I cast a tired stare at Dread, who’s already fastened himself back up and appears to be slumped against the car to catch his breath. He’s trembling, too, but he doesn’t appear even a fraction as winded as I am, and, well… that’s just fucking great.
So happy for him.
After several long moments, he pushes away from the vehicle, grabs the back of his hoodie, and pulls it over his head, taking his T-shirt with it and baring his torso.
It’s March now, and while it’s not freezing cold like it was a couple of weeks ago, it’s still chilly. However, he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest by it.
My lips part, and I’m unable to stop myself from raking my stare over his physique.
Broad shoulders, thick pecs, a lean waist, perfectly sculpted abs, not to mention the intricate artwork thoughtfully placed all over his body.
It’s obvious he took great care selecting the tattoos and placements, creating a masterpiece on top of another stupid fucking masterpiece.
God, I really wish the man was ugly. It’d be a hell of a lot easier if only one aspect of him was breathtaking to look at.
Add in a perfect face, gorgeous eyes, his stupid pierced nose and ears, and those godforsaken eye wrinkles and dimples when he smiles, and I’m on the verge of needing a fucking ambulance.
It’s almost startling when he drops to a crouch and uses his heather gray T-shirt to clean my thighs and between my legs. Black strands fall over his forehead, concealing the emotions on his face. Meanwhile, I resume cursing him for having the absolute nerve to also possess thick, silky hair.
He should at least have a flat ass.
No one should look that perfect.
But no. He has a perfectly round, muscled bubble butt, and it’s honestly bullshit.
When Dread finishes wiping me down, he throws the balled-up shirt in the back seat, quickly pulls his hoodie back on, then settles a carefully blank stare on me, elbows propped on his knees.
Silence ticks by for several moments, and it becomes way too much to bear.
“You cheated,” I state tonelessly, though my voice is hoarse.
He smirks, amusement warming his features, and my heart stutters.
“You said to keep my hands on the wheel while you sucked my cock. I listened.”
Oh my God, why does he always have to argue?
“You took them off,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Only when I made you stop. I decided I wanted your pussy to suck it instead.”
My hands fly out as I exclaim, “That’s cheating!”
He laughs, and my expression slackens as my chest fills with awe, like I’m actively watching Jesus descend to Earth to bless all the lowly humans with his presence.
The deep wrinkles curving down from his dancing eyes, the distinct dimples on his upper cheeks, his straight white teeth, and the sound emitting from his throat…
Oh my fuck, I’m so in love with him.
I knew Dread was capable of almost anything, but not this. Never did I think he could make me fall for him this fucking hard.
I don’t know what he sees on my face—probably a shit ton of panic—but his laughter fades, though the warmth in his gaze remains.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he says quietly, his stare tracing over my every feature affectionately.
“How am I looking at you?” I ask, sounding as distracted as I am. Except as soon as the question is out of my mouth, I wish I could take it back. I don’t actually want to know the answer.
His eyes flick down to my lips before sliding back up again, adoration and something far more wicked gleaming in his predatory gaze. “Like you’re in love with me.”
My stomach flips.
I knew I didn’t want to know.
Heart pounding, I chew on how to respond for a beat, not nearly ready to admit to it outright but also incapable of denying it completely. He would know it’s not the truth, anyway. As he’s already made clear, I’m a terrible liar.
“I don’t know how else to look at you,” I whisper.
A wide smile cracks his face in half, once again blinding me with a tragically beautiful sight.
“And I’ll make sure you never learn, darling.”