Chapter 18 #3
“You like making me come, baby?” I mumble, dazed.
His head drops into the crook of my shoulder. “It’s all I fucking think about.”
And just like that, I need him again. I’m aching for him. Aching for what he hasn’t given me yet. For what he hasn’t taken. I squeeze his hardness through his jeans, and his teeth sink into my tendon, as if it will anchor him.
“And you know what I think about?” I squeeze again, harder, and he thrusts into my hand on a groan. “The way your cock split me the fuck open.”
His head pops off my shoulder to meet my gaze.
The man looking back at me is positively rabid, eyes glazed, teeth bared and hair wild from my handling of it.
Without warning, he flips me around and bends me over the rounded arm of the couch.
My ass is high in the air, and he forces my legs to open wider by nudging my heels outward with his foot.
“Come on now, spread ’em wide. You wanted me to see everything when you put on this excuse for an outfit, didn’t you?”
Yes, god, I did want him to see everything. I left each store wet just thinking about wearing the various designs for him, imagining what he might do to me, how he might use me.
I want this man to see and taste and fuck every part of me.
I brace my elbows against the couch cushion and try to control my breathing through the sounds of his zipper and rustling jeans.
The thick length of him drags through my folds, and my head immediately drops onto my forearms. He swirls the velvety cap right at my entrance, string aside, teasing me, soaking himself.
I don’t have leverage to push back against him.
I can only take what he gives me, moaning and shivering and exposed, as he grasps my hip with one hand and braces the other against the middle of my back.
“Time to accept the consequences of your actions, Christina.”
He slams in to the hilt. I scream.
Full. So full and deep. He’s everywhere. I can’t move, I can’t think about anything else. I only feel him, expanding what my person can contain. I don’t even know where the edges of myself are anymore. I am limitless.
He only gives me a few seconds to adjust, and then he’s moving. He pounds into me again and again, the pace nearly brutal as he packs what feels like every animalistic urge he’s ever pent up into each hit. I’m cursing into the couch cushion, and he pants through his groans.
“Right there!” I gasp as he thrusts upward and hits this spot that blinds me.
He does it again, just as the hand on my back roughly claws my hair together and wraps it around his fist. Right as he thrusts again, he wrenches my hair like reins, and my head snaps back on a cry.
“You think you’re the only one who gets off on pulling hair, baby?” he says, voice shredded.
Holy mother of …
I contract the muscles of my channel around him, gripping him tight with no room to spare. “Then fucking ride me, Danny.”
With a barked fuck!, he goes mad. He yanks my hair in time with his increasingly unhinged drives, my ass smacking against him over and over.
My pussy screws so tight that he can’t pull back as far without slipping out.
So he buries in deep, his heavy body draping over my back, and grinds rapid punches on that sensitive spot.
The building pressure in my ears nearly deafens me; every furious hit is ratcheting up the coil in me, so tensely spun I’m almost scared to let it loose.
“Tell me I can come, Christina,” he pants as his body begins trembling on top of mine. “I only come for you. Tell me, baby, please.”
“Come in my pussy now. Right fucking now.”
He roars when he obeys, his cock twitching and spilling in me, his hips bucking erratically against my ass—and the uncontrollable movements fling me over my own peak seconds later, the orgasm exploding from that deep space inside currently filling with his cum.
After long seconds to settle our breathing, he rises off me and gently pulls out.
He hisses with the movement, wet trickling down my thighs, and my lungs expel any remaining air.
He rounds the couch and kneels to put his face on my level where I’m still draped over the couch arm, quite unable to move.
He looks stunned and wrung out, as if he can’t believe that really just happened.
But there’s also so much tenderness in his eyes, in the little creases around them.
I remember first noticing the creases at the pagan festival.
I experienced the most sudden and bizarre urge to press my thumb into them.
I do it now: press the pad of my thumb into those creases.
I’ve never come like that, solely from the inside instead of the outside. I’ve never done a lot of things. Now I’m not so sure they’re even worth pursuing without Danny. He can do them all. He can show me everything.
And then he’ll look at me just like this afterward. Like I’m his salvation.
I only come for you.
“So,” he finally says, voice still uneven. “I probably should have asked this earlier, but Runzhou’s not here, right?”
I burst out laughing.