Chapter 32 #2
She breathes. I pull the plug out slowly.
Her body releases it with a gasp, and her hands clench on the bench.
I set the plug aside and reach for the lube.
My hands aren't entirely steady. I've been hard for what feels like hours, the ache pulsing in time with my heartbeat.
The sight of her bent over this bench with her ass open and her pussy dripping is testing every disciplined bone in my body.
"This is it," I say.
I coat my cock and the relief of my hand gripping the shaft makes me grit my teeth.
I add more lube to her ass, then work a finger inside her.
She moans, her body accepting the finger easily after hours with the plug.
Warm, tight, the muscle relaxed. I add a second finger.
Stretch her gently. The heat of her around my fingers makes my cock twitch in my other hand. Her hips press back against me.
"Please," she whispers. "Sir. Please."
I pick up the vibrator. Slide it into her pussy.
She whimpers at the fullness, her walls gripping the shaft, and I click it on to the lowest setting.
The vibration hums through her body. I can feel the buzz against my fingers still inside her ass, the sensation traveling through the thin wall between the two channels.
I pull my fingers out. Line up against her ass.
Press the head of my cock against the opening with a slow, steady pressure.
She bears down. The head slides past the ring of muscle, and I stop breathing.
The heat is immediate, impossibly tight, tighter than her pussy, the pressure of the vibrator humming against the underside of my cock through the wall between them.
My fingers dig into her hips. The sensation is so intense that my knees nearly buckle.
"Fuck." My hands grip her hips. "Ruby. Jesus."
"I feel everything." Her voice is barely a whisper. "I feel you and the vibrator. I can feel them pressing against each other inside me. It's—Nash—Sir—"
I push in deeper. Inch by inch. Her body opens for me, stretched and slick.
Every inch of her grips me in rhythmic pulses that match the vibration.
The deeper I go, the tighter it gets, and the stronger the vibration presses against my cock.
I bottom out and hold still, my cock buried in her ass, the vibrator humming in her pussy.
For three seconds I can't move because if I move this ends.
The sensation is overwhelming. Heat, pressure, vibration, the clench of her body around me. I've never felt anything close to this.
"Color," I manage. My voice is wrecked.
"Green. Please move. Please."
I pull back and push in. Inch by inch. The friction is devastating.
Tight, hot, the vibrator pressing against my cock through her walls.
The pleasure builds at the base of my spine in heavy, rolling waves.
I grip the edge of the bench on either side of her hips to steady myself because my legs are shaking.
"Mine," I say. The word comes out raw, ripped from somewhere deep. "This is mine. All of this. Every inch of you."
"Yours." She presses her face into the bench. "All of it. Everything."
I increase the pace. Each thrust pushes deeper, harder, and the sounds Ruby makes have lost all language.
She's moaning on every stroke, her body rocking forward with each thrust. The vibrator hums between us, the buzz radiating through my cock on every push in, and I can feel my orgasm building, coiling at the base of my spine, climbing.
I reach underneath and increase the vibrator speed. She screams. Her hands slap the bench, her back arching violently. The increased vibration against my cock nearly drops me. My vision tunnels.
"Sir! I can't! It's too much! I'm going to—"
"Come. Come for me."
The orgasm is unlike anything I've felt from her. Ruby's entire body seizes. Her ass clenches around my cock in waves so tight I can barely move. Her pussy clenches around the vibrator. She shakes from her head to her feet, sobbing, tears running down her face into the leather.
The clench of her body, the vibration, and the tight heat pulling me deeper are too much.
I bury myself and let go. The orgasm tears through me from the base of my spine to the top of my skull.
My hands grip her hips, my cock pulses inside her ass, and I drop my forehead against her spine.
I come harder than I've come in my life.
My arms give out. Weight settles against her back, heavy and shaking.
For one beat, I can't pull in enough air.
We stay. Connected. The vibrator is still humming. I reach down and click it off with fingers that barely work. Pull it out of her gently. She whimpers. I pull out of her ass carefully, and she makes a sound that is beyond language. My legs are shaking when I straighten up.
I lift her off the bench. She has no strength in her legs.
Neither do I, but I carry her anyway because carrying her is the only thing my body knows how to do right now.
I bring her to the couch against the far wall, sit with her in my lap, and pull the blanket from the cabinet.
Wrap it around her shoulders. Her face presses into my neck.
Her body trembles against mine. My arms are shaking, and I don't try to stop them.
"Water," I say. I reach for the bottle on the side table. Uncap it. Hold it to her lips. She drinks in small sips. The act of holding the bottle for her, watching her throat work, and her trust in my hands after everything those hands just did makes something crack open in my chest.
"Nash."
"I'm here."
Her arms tighten around my neck. I hold her. My hand is in her hair. My mouth against her temple. The room is quiet. The sounds of the club are distant through the walls. My heartbeat hasn't slowed. It's beating for a different reason now.
I pick up the warm towels I prepared. Clean her gently.
Between her legs, her thighs, her ass. She lets me.
Her body pliant, her eyes half-closed. The woman underneath every joke and every deflection and every performance.
Quiet, open. I've never seen anyone this unguarded.
The trust of it presses against my ribs and stays there.
"You were perfect," I say against her hair. "You were so brave."
"I cried."
"That's the bravery."
She presses closer. Her fingers dig into my shoulder. "I didn't know I could feel that much. I didn't know my body could do that."
"Your body can do more than you think. You just have to trust someone enough to find out."
"I trust you." She says it simply.
"My girl." I press my mouth to her forehead. Hold it there. My eyes sting. I don't pull away. "My girl."
She cries again. Quietly. Her tears are warm against my chest. I hold her and let her cry but don't tell her to stop. My hand moves through her hair. My chest aches with something I can't name and don't need to.
I hold her until the tears stop. Until her breathing evens out. Until her fingers relax against my skin and her body settles into mine. She's warm under the blanket. Her makeup is ruined. Her lipstick is gone. Something behind her eyes is different. Softer. Open.
"Nash."
"Yeah."
"Thank you."
I pull her closer. My arms tighten around her.
The drive home is silent. I dressed her in the room carefully, the skirt and top going back on piece by piece. She watched me pull my clothes on with half-closed eyes and a quiet mouth.
Ruby curled against my side in the truck with my arm around her shoulders and her hand resting on my thigh. The streetlights pass over the windshield. Willowridge sleeps.
At the apartment, I carry her inside. She wraps her arms around my neck and lets me. No joke about being carried. No commentary. Just her body against mine.
I set her in bed. Pull the covers back. Undress her again, gently this time, the skirt, the top, the heels. She lies naked against the sheets and watches me. I climb in beside her and pull her against my chest.
Her hand rests over my heartbeat. My hand rests in her hair.
"Nash."
"Yeah."
"I didn't know I could be quiet like that."
My hand moves through her hair. Slow. The apartment breathes around us.
"The quiet was always there," I say. "You just never had somewhere safe enough to find it."
Her fingers press against my chest. Her breathing slows. Then her body goes heavy against mine.
I hold her. The apartment's dark. The streetlight through the window casts one thin line across the floor. Her breath evens out into sleep.