Chapter 9 #3
He trails kisses across my chest, spending time nibbling at my nipples and sucking them into the warm cavern of his mouth until they’re tingling and slightly tender.
My cock aches badly, drooling precum against my belly, which he licks up when he reaches it, humming in pleasure.
“You taste so good,” he breathes against my dick. He licks the head, lapping up the moisture.
Oh my god, I think he’s trying to kill me. Is it possible to expire from anticipation?
My back arches, and I gasp loudly as he swallows my cock almost to the root. His mouth is the perfect pressure, and his tongue flattens along the underside, every now and then tonguing my frenulum. It’s an embarrassingly short amount of time before I’m brought to the edge.
“Sam,” I gasp, reaching down between my legs and gripping his hair. “I don’t want to come yet.”
He pulls back and grins. Before I know what he’s doing, he’s gripped under my knees and folded my legs against my chest, pinning them there. Then he lowers his head and licks a wet stripe over my hole.
“Oh my god,” I pant. “Oh my god.”
He devotes himself to eating my ass with such single-minded intensity, I’d be seriously impressed if it wasn’t scrambling my brain so completely. But I can’t think about anything beyond the pleasure of his tongue buried inside me.
“Sam,” I breathe, not really sure what I’m asking for, but he seems to know because a slick finger slides slowly inside me. It’s a bit strange, but when he crooks that finger and hits a particular spot, rainbows burst beneath my closed eyelids, and I cry out.
He crawls back up my body, his finger still buried deep, and kisses me deeply. “That’s it, baby,” he croons between kisses. “Ride the feeling. Let go.”
He’s back to kissing me deeply, his tongue plunging into my mouth and sliding against mine as he fingers me open for him.
I’m vaguely aware of where his tongue has just been, but all I can concentrate on is his touch.
One finger becomes two becomes three, and I’m writhing beneath him, riding those long, clever digits.
Just when I think he’s going to push me over the edge and make me come, he pulls back, sliding his fingers out of me and leaving me panting on the bed, fighting my way back from the edge of orgasm.
I watch him through heavy-lidded eyes as he rips open a condom packet and rolls it down his cock, which looks almost painful with how dark and wet it is.
I’ve only just caught my breath when he slides back between my splayed legs. Gripping my knees, I lift, tilting my hips up. Propping himself over me on one hand, he reaches down with the other to guide the head of his cock to my entrance and slowly presses inside me.
I can’t help the gasp as he sinks into me. He’s prepped me so well and I’m so turned on and relaxed that there’s almost no resistance. For a moment, he stills, his face pressed to my throat as I arch my neck.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my skin. His body trembles against mine as he pauses, stretching me wide on his dick, so I can adjust.
“Please,” I choke out. He pulls back and then slowly slides back in to the root.
We both groan loudly. He does it again and again, speeding up with each thrust until he’s pounding into me. It’s so fucking good. I roll my hips to meet him every time, and we’re perfectly synchronised, like we were made for each other.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I chant. I’ve never been this vocal in my life. In fact, it’s not even my religion, but sweet mercy, I’m having a near religious experience. “Don’t stop,” I plead.
The headboard bangs against the wall and I’m aware I’m being quite loud, but really, I think I can be forgiven. Sam Stone quite frankly fucks like some sort of sex god.
Suddenly, he stops and pulls out of me.
“No!” I reach for him.
“It’s okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere. Roll over.”
Before I can do as he asks, he’s flipped me onto my stomach and is nudging my legs apart with his knees, then sinking back into me in one thrust.
“Fuck,” I cry out, fisting the pillow.
“Are you okay?” he pants against my neck. I nod vigorously.
I am so fucking okay.
“More,” I groan.
His hands slide between my body and the sheets, moving up my chest and gripping my shoulders, anchoring me to him tightly.
He’s slowed his pace to a sexy roll of his hips.
I can’t help the low groan that escapes, he’s so deep inside me.
All I can do is pant and drool into the pillow beneath me.
My dick is grinding against the bedcovers, and the friction is driving me closer to the edge.
Suddenly, I’m there. My orgasm rips from my body as I let loose a loud cry and come all over the sheets.
I tighten up and Sam swears. His teeth clamp down on the juncture where my neck meets my shoulder, and he speeds up, pounding deep into me, chasing his own orgasm.
Just when I think I can’t take any more pressure against my poor, abused prostate, he holds himself at the deepest point and groans loudly against my skin.
His cock pulses inside my sore hole, and fuck me, I love that sensation. I made him come. Me, with my body. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so satisfied and so exhausted in my whole life. I want to do that all over again.
I also want to sleep for a week.
His gentle fingers comb through my hair.
“Are you okay, baby?” he whispers against my ear.
“Mmm, so good,” I slur, my face still mashed up against the pillow.
I literally can’t move, I’m boneless. I feel him chuckle against my back and then slowly withdraw from my body.
I slip in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of him moving around, cleaning us both up and sliding me into bed properly. When he finally wraps me up in his arms, I have one final, half-coherent thought before I descend into a deeper slumber.
“I’ll tell him the truth tomorrow.”