Chapter 35
Ellie
It was not in the plans to go to Patrick’s house tonight, but I’m definitely not upset about it.
After my eight hour shift, I started working on my paper almost immediately when I got home, and my brain is absolutely fried.
Just when I thought I couldn’t go on, his text message came as a pleasant surprise, and the thought of Patrick taking my mind off of everything was an offer I could not resist.
It’s funny that his room looks cleaner than before, which makes sense seeing how he definitely had some time to prepare for me coming over—unlike the last time.
I only get a glance at the space before I feel Patrick’s hands on me, pushing me up against the door frame and bringing his mouth down to mine.
Arching my back, I press my body into his and feel him release a deep groan.
The sound goes straight between my thighs, and my need for him grows.
Patrick wraps a hand around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and the other one moves to grip my jaw. I’ve always been into the idea of rough sex, but thoughts of him wrapping his hand around my throat surprise me.
My mind is rushing. Would I enjoy the feeling? Would Patrick be into it? Do I trust him enough to do it? It’s never been something that I thought I might be into, and even though I feel a little nervous, I lean into it.
Fuck it. What’s the worst that can happen?
Instead of asking, my hand moves over his, dragging it down so it braces the sides of my neck.
Apparently, that’s all I needed to do to get him on board.
His length grows harder against my stomach, telling me that he likes it too.
There is desperation in his movements, and I can’t get enough.
His grip is firm, but he remains cautious, not quite squeezing.
It honestly doesn’t matter. It’s more about the feeling than it is about actually being choked, and he is doing exactly what I need him to.
A moan slips out of me as he kisses me hard and frantically.
When he pulls his mouth away, I can’t stop a pathetic whimper from slipping out, resulting in a smirk from Patrick.
“If I knew how much you liked my hand around your pretty throat, I would’ve done it a lot sooner.
” His voice is low, and when I start to respond, his mouth crashes back onto mine.
He uses his thumb to push my chin up to kiss me deeper.
His lips part, and his tongue finds its way to mine, teasing and tasting.
His grip on my throat tightens as we both get more comfortable with it, and I melt into him.
He pulls himself away again, but his hands don’t move.
Holding me tightly in his grip, his eyes graze over me, sending a shiver through my body.
I tug on the bottom of his shirt, encouraging him to take it off, but his face shows that he is contemplating something.
He looks conflicted, but his eyes are hungry.
Needing to know what's going on in his head, I try to pull him closer to me. “What are you thinking about?”
He’s silent for a moment, but he stares at me with a devilish look. “I want to watch you play with yourself.”
I choke on the air and do my best not to look shocked. Gaining my composure, I try to make a joke, but it’s hard to joke when his hand is still tight around my throat. “I-isn’t the whole point of us being friends with benefits that I don’t have to play with myself anymore?”
“Humor me.” He loosens his grip and backs away from me. I roll my eyes.
You know what, fine. If Patrick wants a show, I’ll give him a show.
Staring down at my outfit, I only now notice how un-sexy it is.
When I had gotten the invite to come over, I took a quick shower, and while debating on what to wear, I realized that it really didn’t matter since we aren’t actually dating.
It’s nice that I don’t have to feel the pressure to impress Patrick.
Searching through my dresser, I found a simple pair of black underwear and a black bra to match because I’m not a heathen.
Then, not wanting to waste any more time, I threw on an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants.
It’s definitely not the most attractive outfit, but that didn’t stop Patrick from putting his hands all over me as soon as I walked through his door.
Although, now I wish I was wearing something a little more flattering.
Watching him lean against the door frame expectantly, I make my way over to his bed. This is the hard part. It’s easy to feel sexy and confident when I’m all dolled up, but I’m going to do my best to fake it.
Taking my sweet time, I strip my clothes off one by one.
It feels ridiculous taking so much time to remove my shirt, but watching Patrick follow my every move makes it worth it.
When I unclasp my bra and let it drop to the floor, I’m pretty sure he is on the verge of fainting.
His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, and the outline of his cock is visible against his sweatpants.
Just seeing how hot and bothered taking off my clothes makes him is making it more fun for me.
Maybe I am actually having a good time? His desperation is palpable, so thinking he won’t be able to resist for too long, I try to make a game out of it. How long can Patrick keep his hands to himself?
Doing my best to push my nervous energy down, I bite my lip and breathe slowly—in through the nose and out through the mouth. This is just like all of the times I’ve touched myself alone in bed. I have masterbated thousands of times, so this should be easy, right?
After slowly sliding my underwear down, I fling them over to him and laugh as they hit him dead center in the chest. It feels nice to get a smirk out of him, but my heart starts racing when I crawl onto his bed.
Even though I only spent the night here once, I’ve missed the feel of his bedsheets against my skin.
I’ve missed the smell, his smell, that lingers through the whole house, but especially here.
Making my way to the middle of the bed, I prop myself up against his pillows and slowly spread my legs. It is difficult to not let my shyness seep out, but I’ve already committed to putting on a show.
When I look up at him, all of those feelings of insecurity vanish.
His full attention is on my body, and he seems hungry for me.
He grips his cock hard through the fabric like he’s not allowing himself any pleasure yet.
Ever so slowly, I move a hand down and play with my breast, letting out a small moan as I pinch my nipple.
It hurts as I tug and tease the sensitive bud, but it feels so good.
I have never been one to tease myself or embellish my orgasm when I’m alone.
It has always just been something I do without all of the flourishing, but that’s not what I want to do now.
I’m desperate to have him lust for me the same way I do for him.
As I watch him finally give in and stroke himself through his pants, I feel like I’m going crazy.
Cupping my breast with one hand, the other slides down my stomach and starts to explore the warmth and the wetness between my legs.
I can’t help myself, letting out a gasp as I slip two fingers in.
It doesn't numb the ache I have for his cock, but it still feels good.
I hear him mutter something under his breath, but it's so quiet that I almost can’t make it out.
Fuck, baby. Just like that.
His voice sends a spark through my body to keep going, and the need to make Patrick suffer is strong.
So, I play with myself for a few more minutes, upping the theatrics and moaning out his name every time I get close, but I’m too stubborn for this kind of presentation.
If I don’t come right now, I’m going to lose it.
Bringing my other hand down to play with my clit, I curl the fingers inside of me trying to hit that sweet spot. I’m desperate for an orgasm, and all of this teasing has built me up further than I’ve ever pushed myself.
It takes up all of my focus trying to rub my clit and thrust my fingers inside of me.
Forgetting that I’m on display, I throw my head back, feeling close, not caring about what I look or sound like.
I’m so caught up in my orgasm that I miss the sound of tearing plastic while my body shakes, and I give into the feeling completely.
My mind going blank, and my body going slack.
My orgasm fades away, and I feel stuck in the comfort of Patrick’s bed. I should get up and get myself together, but I can’t. My eyes are closed when the mattress shifts, and Patrick’s hands are on my legs. I’m pliable to his touch, and when he spreads my legs easily, his breath hitches.
“Fuck, baby. I love watching you come.” Kneeling in front of me, it only takes him one strong pull to shift my hips forward so that he is pressed up against my opening.
His thumb swipes against my clit, and I squirm under him, still extremely sensitive.
“God, you look so pretty when you shake like that.”
My face heats up, and all I can think about is how good I want to make him feel.
“Please—” I grind my hips forward, pushing against him and groaning as his tip starts to fill me. “I want you to fill me up so bad. My fingers don’t feel as good as you. Please, please, please, please, ple—”
There’s an expectation for him to tease me like he’s done the last few times, but there is no hesitation when he thrusts into me—his hips meeting my body in one quick movement.
I gasp out at the slight sting of the sudden intrusion, but it quickly subsides into pleasure as I get used to the stretch of his cock.
“It makes me crazy when you beg like that.” His movements are painstakingly slow, and I know he is trying to torment me. He slides his hand up my stomach and cups my breasts. “I could watch you forever. You’re so fucking beautiful, El.”
I yelp when he pinches my nipple between his fingers, and the combination of feelings almost makes me come undone.
Leaning my head back, I close my eyes, trying to focus on the sensation.
His hand moves up and wraps around my throat.
“Keep your eyes open, baby. I want you to watch me while I fuck you.”
His hand stays around my neck, and I open my eyes to see him smirking at me.
There’s a darkness that only comes out when he is being rough with me, and it makes all of my logic go out the window.
His pace picks up, and his fingers grip tighter.
I can still breathe, but every time he has his hands on me like this, I feel myself tighten around him.
“F-fu-ck,” I manage to stutter out.
“You’re such a good girl. I can feel how much you like it when I choke you, baby. ”
There is no way I can last much longer with the way he talks to me. He pulls his cock almost all the way out of me, leaving me so empty. I whine, desperate to be filled, “P-patrick, please.”
He moves his other hand down and strokes over my clit with his thumb while he slams his length back inside of me.
I feel him stretching me with every thrust, and little specks mark my vision.
He keeps his movements steady until I am falling apart around him.
“Yeah, baby. Just like that. Squeeze my cock. I know my greedy girl wants another one. Come for me, El.”
It only takes three more strokes for me to come, and his movements slow down, letting me ride out the orgasm until I stop twitching.
Finally removing his focus from my hypersensitive clit, he pushes my legs up around his forearms, picking up his pace again.
I bite my lip hard as he angles my hips, causing him to go deeper.
In an attempt to drive him crazy, I purposefully squeeze myself around him, and he lets out a low groan.
I know that he is close and get caught up for a second in the thought of him fucking me without the condom. It would feel so much better without that barrier between us, and the idea of him filling me up acts like spark igniting in my lower stomach.
Shaking the thought out of my mind, I hear his breathing get shallow, and his hips buck against me. Squeezing myself around him one more time, he cries out my name as he comes.
As much as I want to stay curled up next to him for the rest of the night, there is no way I can do that since I have to work in the morning.
Prying myself out of his arm, I do my best to ignore his objections, and on the drive home, Patrick takes over my thoughts.
Not just his hand around my throat, but also how I feel after we have sex.
There is nothing more right than when our bodies are pressed together like that.
It's something about his presence that makes me feel safe and seen, and I do my best to shut those feelings down.
There is no doubt that Patrick is using me in the same ways that I am using him, and I know he would tell me if he wanted anything more.
At least, I think that he would.