Chapter fifty-two
Rory
I have always fantasised about fucking Freya.
I have spent many nights fisting my cock thinking about it like the sad little man that I am.
But since making the decision to go down this road with her, I have never wanted her more.
She looks incredible stretched out on the bed, dressed in nothing but black lace underwear and that loose white top.
The soft light from the bedside lamp catches on her skin and for a second I just stand there taking her in.
Christ. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.
Her hair is spread across the pillow, her cheeks still flushed, her chest rising and falling a little faster than normal.
The sight of her there, relaxed and completely open with me, makes my dick throb.
I kick off my jeans and boxers, barely thinking about it, and my cock springs free, already painfully hard. A bead of pre-come gathers at the tip just from looking at her. Honestly, it’s a miracle I haven’t already lost control after everything that just happened downstairs.
“Holy shit, Frey,” I murmur, shaking my head slightly. “You’re perfect.”
Her eyes drop immediately and a soft blush spreads across her cheeks. I cross the room and climb onto the bed, bracing myself over her before lifting her chin gently with my finger.
“Hey,” I say quietly. “I really hope you’re not looking down because you don’t believe me.”
Her eyes flick back up to mine.
“Because I mean it,” I continue, my voice softer now. “And if you don’t believe it yet, I’ll make it my personal mission to make sure you do.”
Something shifts in her expression then. The uncertainty melts slightly, replaced with something warmer and more confident. Her gaze slowly drifts down my body.
“Well…” I say lightly. “It’s all yours, if you want it.”
A small, breathy sound escapes her. “This is ridiculous,” she murmurs. “I must be dreaming. Look at you.” Her hand hovers just above my stomach like she’s almost afraid to touch me. “It’s like you’re carved out of stone.”
I laugh quietly. “Well, right now my ego definitely is.”
She rolls her eyes.
“And right now, my cock could convincingly be made of stone."
She stares back at me, then down to my cock. "Well maybe we should do something about that then shouldn’t we." She says licking her lips.
Something in the way she says it snaps the last thread of restraint I have left. Before she can say anything else I grab the front of her top and rip it off her.
“Rory!” she protests, half laughing. “I liked that top.”
“I like it better off you,” I reply easily.
I reach behind her back and unclasp her bra, letting it fall away as she sinks back against the mattress.
For a moment I just stare at her. “Jesus,” I breathe. “I am the luckiest man alive right now.”
I lean down, pressing my mouth to the soft curve of her neck, and she arches up toward me instinctively, her warm breath brushing my skin as her hands slide into my hair.
And the way she responds to me… Fuck. I’m already completely ruined for anyone else.
Which is fine, because I hope there is never anyone else.
I kiss slowly from her neck down to her shoulder, then along the delicate line of her collarbone, taking my time as soft sounds escape her. Each small breath and quiet moan sends a rush of heat straight through me.
My fingers brush lightly over her chest, teasing one sensitive peak between them while my mouth trails lower across her warm skin. She arches slightly beneath me, her hands sliding into my hair as though she needs something to hold on to.
I take my time exploring her body, moving slowly down her soft curves, pressing kisses along the path until I reach the edge of her underwear.
My fingers hook gently into the lace and slide it down her legs before I settle between her thighs, pausing there for a moment just to look at her.
Freya lying here like this might be the most breath-taking thing I’ve ever seen.
I press a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh first, then the other, feeling her muscles tense beneath my hands. When my lips finally brush over her clit, she inhales sharply.
“Fuck,” she whispers.
A grin spreads across my face. I lift my head slightly, meeting her eyes. “You want me here, baby?” I murmur.
Her chest rises and falls quickly. “Yes,” she breathes.
I really want to tease her. Part of me wants to drag this out, make her wait, make her beg for it the way she deserves to.
The thought alone nearly drives me insane.
But fuck, I can’t. I can’t hold back for even a second.
One, because I’m dangerously close to losing control already.
And two, because I have absolutely no interest in wasting another moment not being inside Freya Collins.
I trail kisses back up her body, slow at first, tasting the warmth of her skin as I move higher until I reach her mouth again. Then I take my cock in my fist and slide slowly along her soaking slit.
“Holy shit, Rory,” she breathes.
“Fuck,” I groan back, my head dropping for a second as a sharp wave of sensation hits me.
I nearly lose it right there. Focus Bennett.
Make it last. I inhale deeply, forcing myself to steady for half a second before leaning down and capturing her mouth again.
As our lips meet, I slowly press forward, easing inside her inch by inch until I can’t go any deeper.
“Oh my God,” she gasps, her nails digging into my back.
The sound she makes nearly destroys whatever restraint I have left.
“Freya,” I groan against her mouth. “You feel… Jesus. You feel perfect.”
I move slowly at first, pulling back before pressing forward again, finding a rhythm that makes both of us lose our breath.
Her hands are everywhere now, sliding over my shoulders, into my hair, gripping tight as our bodies move together.
“I want this,” I say roughly, barely able to form the words between breaths. “I want you, Frey. I don’t want anyone else.”
Her eyes meet mine, dark and bright all at once. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else,” she whispers. “I’ve never felt anything like this.”
The words send a jolt through me that makes everything spiral faster.
Our kisses grow messier, more desperate. Our movements lose any kind of control. We both know exactly where this is heading. I try to slow it down, but it’s impossible. She tightens around me suddenly, her breath catching as her whole body tenses.
“Rory,” she gasps. “I’m…”
The way she says my name snaps the last thread holding me together.
“Freya,” I groan, burying my face against her neck. “I love you.”
Her hands grip me tighter as her body shudders beneath mine. “Oh my fuck…Rory…I’m…”
Her release hits her hard, and the way she clings to me sends me straight over the edge with her.
I pull her closer, holding her as the wave crashes through me, the sensation dragging on far longer than I expect.
For a moment the whole world seems to disappear into white noise.
After what seems like a lifetime of earth-shattering pleasure, I finally come back to myself, I’m still hovering above her, both of us breathing hard.
“Holy shit,” I murmur.
Freya laughs weakly beneath me, her chest still rising and falling as she pushes a hand through my hair. “Rory… what on earth was that?”
I let out a quiet, breathless laugh. “I have absolutely no idea.”
She shakes her head slightly, still catching her breath. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
“Same,” I admit.
She looks up at me, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Well,” she says softly, “you do realise you can’t go anywhere now, don’t you?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
She nods, still smiling. “Because I might need that every single day.”
I laugh, collapsing beside her and pulling her into my arms. “Freya,” I say, still slightly out of breath, “if that happens every day I might not survive it.”
She presses her face into my chest, laughing quietly. “Worth the risk.”
And honestly…She might be right.