Chapter 3 #2
He starts to move, pounding into me over and over, and I can barely breathe.
There’s no room for anything inside me except him.
The drag of him makes my entire body vibrate.
I’ve stopped trying to hold back or to hide parts of myself.
It’s like he’s prized me open and I’m laid bare in every sense.
He pulls sounds out of me that I’ve never heard before.
“Fuck, Avril,” he says. “You’re so fucking tight. So fucking wet.”
The beginnings of my orgasm start to wind inside of me, spooling tighter and tighter. But that’s impossible. There’s no man on this planet that could make me come twice. Not in one evening, let alone within an hour.
It’s not going to happen.
He dips down to claim a kiss, not interrupting his rhythm, his relentless fucking of me.
Maybe it’s the intimacy of the move—his need for more than the feeling of fucking—but something inside me cracks open and that’s all it takes for the string inside me to snap and my orgasm to engulf me, racing through my body like it’s been waiting a thousand years to be set free.
I grip his shoulder, my fingernails digging into his skin, and he cries out. “Avril!”
His thrusts turn sharper, more staccato, and he pulls my hips toward him as he orgasms with me.
“Fuck,” he groans as he comes.
He opens his eyes to find me staring at him.
I want answers. How does he do that? Is his dick magic? Is he a mobster wizard or something?
I can still feel him, pressed up against the inside of me and I clench, and he groans.
“Are you trying to kill me?” He dips down and claims a kiss. “You feel so good, so tight like that. You’re going to make me hard again.”
My eyelids flicker closed at the idea that he might fuck me again tonight. I don’t know if I could take it again. But I know I want it. I really want it. There’s not anything I want more in this moment.
I let my hands roam over his shoulders, his torso. His skin is hard and hot and I want somehow to have him closer to me.
He pulls out of me, deals with the condom, and then scoops me up, off the countertop.
I squeal. I can’t remember the last time a man ever carried me anywhere.
He spins me round. “Look at the mess we made.”
I blush as I see the streaks of wetness all over the steel. It’s embarrassing, but it’s also kind of hot. Even hotter that he likes it.
He growls against my ear and strides out of the kitchen.
“You want to shower?” he asks, as we head down a hallway and into a bedroom.
I shake my head. I don’t want to get rid of any evidence of tonight. Not yet anyway. I like the idea that I must smell of him. And that he has my DNA all over him.
I don’t want to wash it away just yet.
He nods and he pulls the covers off the bed and sets me down on the mattress. For a moment, I think he’s going to leave, and panic hits me in the solar plexus, but he rounds the bed and climbs in on the other side. “You okay?” he asks, as he pulls me against him.
Again, it seems like such an intimate thing for a man to do. It’s like we’ve known each other forever.
I nod, and he presses a kiss to my forehead.
Are we sleeping now? Because I’m not ready for sleep.
“I haven’t known you very long,” he says, “but I’m pretty sure you’re not often this quiet.”
I sigh. “You’re right. But I don’t often have two orgasms in the space of thirty minutes. I’m getting used to…this.”
“I like that I can make you come.”
“You like to talk,” I say.
“During sex, you mean?” he asks.
I shrug.
“I like to know what you like. I want to have a good time, and I want you to have a good time. Sex is always best when it’s a two-way street.”
“That makes sense.”
His erection grows between us, and I glance down.
“You can ignore that,” he says.
“What if I don’t want to ignore it?”
He groans. “Fuck, Avril. Everything you say and do makes me hard. How do you manage that?”
Okay, so I get that male physiology is hardwired for sex. Some men look at a pothole and get hard, but hearing that I do it for Ben feels good. And he definitely does it for me. I thought he was just some cheesy flirt. Who knew he had a gigantic cock and knows how to use it?
I hook my leg over his hip and shift myself toward him.
He groans again, and grabs a condom.
This time he slides into me slowly, his gaze not leaving mine.
It feels so good when he’s inside me. It’s like this is how I’m meant to be and that, before Ben fucking me, I’d never been my whole self.
But I’m not used to him, and as he reaches the end of me, and he’s as deep as he can go, I gasp.
“Too much?” he asks.
I shake my head. “It’s…You feel so good.”
He sweeps a piece of hair from my face and nods. “You feel so good too.”
He starts to move. It’s not the relentless, desperate fucking from the kitchen.
This is small, intense, intimate movements that make me feel like I’m floating over New York City.
He leans forward to kiss me, without missing a beat.
And he slides in and out of me, his tongue, his cock, and I don’t know where I end and he begins. We’re entirely enmeshed and connected.
He moves to his back, pulling me with him so I’m sitting astride him, his cock still buried inside me.
He gazes up at me, as he slides his hands over my breasts and around my waist. Then he cups his hands over my hips and moves me back and forth, so he’s sliding in and out of me at the perfect pace.
I might be on top, but it’s definitely Ben fucking me and not the other way around.
My head tips back, and I moan at how incredible the man makes me feel.
“Look at me,” he says.
I do as he says and cover his hands on my hips as he pulls me deep onto his cock.
“You feel that?” he asks.
“I can’t feel anything else,” I reply. I don’t want to feel anything else. I want to stay right here, in this room, with Ben inside me for the rest of my life.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
He sits up abruptly and kisses me. The change in angle, and his tongue…it’s too much.
“Ben,” I cry out, as my orgasm rumbles in the distance.
“Yes, baby. Come for me.”
Our mouths clash together, desperate to give and take, as Ben pistons in and out of me, my climax drawing nearer and nearer.
My body tightens as waves of pleasure wash over me, and my entire body shudders and vibrates with the feeling of Ben inside me.
“Avril,” Ben barks out, and I pull him close, pushing down, trying to get him deeper, wanting everything from him. I want him to feel even a fraction of what I’m feeling right now. Because it’s so good. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
What has this man done to me?