7 - Lauren #3
What was the nickname the crew called him again, the Raiser?
Everything I’d learned about his skill came to life in the way his fingers and mouth began to memorize every spot and combination that lowered my inhibitions to the point that I gasped out loud.
A failure on my end and Rafe made no attempt to hide just how much he enjoyed hearing that.
“You say something, sweetheart?” he mumbled against my neck, crooking his fingers in the exact same position with startling precision.
I pressed my lips together, trying hard to swallow the sounds that were trying to claw their way out. But his fingers…
“Anything you wanna share with the class, Lauren?” he asked.
“No,” I said, the word practically a whisper.
“The way you’re dripping down my hand tells me otherwise,” he chuckled and I felt the sound in my bones.
“Are you gonna keep talking or are you gonna fuck me already?” I demanded, refusing to acknowledge my body’s betrayal.
I needed to find solid ground again and get a leg up, which was increasingly harder to do with Rafe teasing out an orgasm that I knew was going to wreck me.
Which meant that I had to try and wreck him first.
“Thought you wanted to come first,” he said, nibbling at my jaw.
I shoved him back and he stumbled a step, his fingers pulling out of me and leaving me feeling empty as I clenched on nothing. He was breathing heavily but made no move to touch me again, at least not yet.
“Come here,” I crooked my hand towards him, inviting him in.
He looked unsure at first, kind of like he was expecting some kind of trap.
But he didn’t put up much of a resistance.
When he was close enough for me to touch him, I yanked him even closer to me, grateful that I could have some semblance of control again.
He helped me adjust my position on the table so that he could slip inside of me and when he did we both froze for a moment and the smallest of sighs left his mouth.
I wrapped a hand in his hair and pulled his face close to mine, daring him, challenging him, doing everything but begging.
He began to move, slowly at first, just feeling out the new territory we were discovering together.
But then I closed the fist I had buried in his hair, yanking at the strands and he got the message.
I wanted this.
During our verbal sparring, Rafe seemed to be able to pick up on just what to say to get me riled up and ready to respond in kind.
He fucked the same way. It was a give and take and I gave back everything he was offering.
He leaned over my body, his hands firmly gripping my hips as he thrust into me again and again.
I wrapped my legs around him, squeezing on his dick whenever he pulled out so that a strangled gasp escaped him.
His eyes pinched shut against the pleasure until he decided it wouldn’t do.
He pulled me off the table, guiding me cautiously between the stray pieces of equipment.
It would’ve been an uncharacteristically gentlemanly thing for him to do if he didn’t immediately follow it up with fucking me right against the wall.
I wrapped my arms over his, feeling them flex as he lifted me up.
The sounds he made went from soft pants and the occasional moan to groans that rolled my eyes to the back of my skull.
For the moments it took us both to reach our climax, it was like Rafe lost control completely and I was right there with him.
I couldn’t stop my own expressions of pleasure or my hands from touching his face and neck and shoulders and savoring the way he felt under that touch.
We lost track of where we were as our bodies continued to barrel into ecstasy and when it hit a blank wall of pleasure, he pressed his mouth to my neck again to muffle the noise.
I threw my head back in a silent scream as my orgasm finally tore through my body in waves.
I felt his lips on my jaw, then my chin.
Soft pecks that didn’t at all feel like they should be coming from him.
When I opened my eyes again and let him slowly help me down, my legs were shaky beneath my weight.
“Easy,” he said, sounding breathless himself.
I didn’t know what to say and the thought was jarring. My mind was still wiped from my climax, but the air that had just been soaked in tension now seemed heavy again with expectation. I cleared my throat.
I searched his face for some kind of clue to go off of, a hint of our normal to hold onto in the wake of what we’d just experienced together. There was raw uncertainty dancing in his eyes, but soon enough he masked it with amusement.
“That was pretty cute, huh?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. His smug smirk returned. “Good to see you’re not as repulsed by me as you thought.” And just like that whatever would-be spell lost its thrall. I pushed him away and began fixing my clothes and smoothing down my sex-mussed hair.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you could be so hot if you just kept your mouth shut?” I said. I didn’t look at him again to see his reaction. “I trust you can see yourself out. And try not to make such a noise with that stupid bike of yours when you leave.”
With that, I promptly left the room.