CHAPTER SIXTEEN #3
My hips bucked, chasing his touch as he started to lick me slowly, teasing me. He kissed me there as if he was in no hurry and he had all the time in the world.
His tongue languidly traced my lower lips, parting my folds, licking my entrance before he sucked on my clit. His teeth grazed the tiny bud and my thighs clenched around his head in response.
The sound that escaped me was obscene—a broken, desperate thing that I would have been ashamed of if I had any capacity left for shame.
His mouth was relentless, methodical, alternating between soft, teasing strokes and the kind of focused pressure that made my hips jerk forward involuntarily.
I gripped the headboard with both hands, my knuckles white, my head falling back. The pleasure built in waves, each one cresting higher than the last, and I could feel myself unraveling under the assault of his tongue.
“Adrian—” His name tore from my throat without permission.
He hummed against me, and the vibration sent a shockwave through my entire body. My thighs trembled on either side of his head, and I was distantly aware of the sounds I was making—moans, whimpers, fragments of his name repeated like a prayer I hadn’t meant to utter.
My orgasm rippled through me with devastating force. My back arched, my fingers clawing at the headboard, and a sound ripped from my chest.
Adrian didn’t stop. He gentled his movements but continued, drawing out every last shuddering aftershock until I was shaking so badly I could barely hold myself up.
He didn't let go. He didn't stop. I gripped his dark hair, clenching at him and pulling him closer into me. A desperate mewl escaped me.
“Fuck,” he rasped against my pussy. “You taste so fucking good, so fucking divine, Serafina.”
I didn’t know what possessed me, but the desire… the fevered need inside me was so desperate for more. I needed him inside me. Now.
I moved down, settling over his hips once more. This time I didn’t hesitate. I pushed his sweatpants down just enough and pulled his hardened cock out. He stood, proud and big. Thick.
I positioned myself above him, feeling the blunt pressure of him against my entrance. I sank down slowly, watching his face as I did.
Every carefully maintained layer of composure dissolved, his jaw dropping open and his eyes squeezed shut.
A sound ripped from his throat that was half groan, half something wounded.
His wrists strained against the belt, the leather creaking, but he didn’t pull free.
He held himself there, bound and trembling, as I took him inside me, slow inch by slow inch.
I forgot to breathe for a second as he stretched me.
My walls tightened around him, clenching as I moved up and the pulsing when I lowered myself onto his cock again.
His hips jerked roughly, almost like he couldn’t control his own body movement anymore. A needy moan escaped my throat, I couldn’t help it, as he thrust upward, in and out of me, taking control from the bottom.
Hard. Deep. Rough.
Fuck, it felt so good. So maddeningly good.
I leaned forward, pushing my face into the dip between his neck and shoulder.
My teeth grazed the sensitive skin at his throat and he tensed underneath me. His body trembled with a ragged exhale. My thighs shook but I put more effort into moving up and down his hard, thick length.
I leaned back, spine arching as I rode him. Up and down, circling my hips when it felt good. He met each of my movements with his own jerky, deep thrust.
Adrian watched me with hooded eyes, his gaze caressing my face before it went to my chest. Then, he was watching my perky tits bouncing up and down as I rode him.
I leaned forward, just enough so that my breasts were hovering over his lips. He didn’t hesitate. He took a taut nipple into his mouth, biting softly. “A-Adrian!”
He suckled and soothed the tinge of pain before he did it again. And again.
My clit felt swollen and I was aching, literally aching.
Our bodies were taut, the muscles so tight as we quickly climbed toward our orgasms. Our chests gleamed with sweat and the smell of sex saturated the air. Musky and undeniable.
He lifted his head and looked between where our bodies were connected, his eyes flaring darker with satisfaction…
with possessiveness. “Look at us, Princess,” he commanded raspily.
“Look how pretty you are taking me inside your little tight cunt.” His chest rumbled with another low, deep groan.
“Fuck me, you look delightful, Serafina. Look.”
My eyes followed his command, and I looked down where we were connected in the most intimate ways two people could be connected. Bodies entwined with a fevered passion that I wasn’t sure where he began and where I ended. We were two pieces of a desperate, frenzied puzzle interlocked together.
We watched his thick length sliding in and out of me, the sight of it so sinfully dirty.
Every time I slid down onto him, he thrust upward into me. A needy, desperate matching rhythm.
I buried my head in his shoulders, muffling my cries as I shattered in his arms again, my second orgasm rippling through me harder than the first.
Adrian stiffened under me and I knew his own orgasm wasn’t far. My thighs tensed at the realization. No—wait…
I was about to shift my weight off him when his hands caught my hips.
His…freed hands.
What…? I didn’t have time to process the thought.
His fingers dug into my flesh and before I could pull away, before I could lift myself off him, he rolled.
The world tilted. The headboard slammed against the wall, and I gasped as my back hit the mattress, Adrian’s weight settling over me, his hips pinning mine to the bed.
“Wait—” The word barely left my mouth before his lips crashed against mine.
Not gentle. Not careful. Nothing about it was tender.
His kiss swallowed the word whole, his tongue sliding past my lips with a hunger that stole the air from my lungs. I tried to turn my head, tried to form a syllable again but his mouth followed mine, relentless, and the sound that came out of me was nothing but a muffled, desperate moan.
God, I could taste myself on his tongue.
His hips moved. One deep, grinding thrust that buried him to the hilt, and my legs tried to close, tried to push him away, but he was already there, his knees pressing mine apart, trapping my thighs against the mattress with the full weight of his body.
“Adrian—” I managed against his mouth, but his name dissolved into a broken cry as he thrust again, harder, deeper, the angle shifting so that every stroke dragged against that swollen, aching place inside me. Holy shit!
He spread my legs wider as he drove deeper. My head fell back against the pillow, a strangled moan escaping my throat.
I think… oh my God…
I was going to come again.
His forehead pressed against mine, his breath ragged and hot, and his eyes were open, staring into mine with an unbearable intensity.
He was close. I could feel it, the way his rhythm fractured, the way his muscles locked beneath his skin, the way his cock pulsed inside me with each thrust.
I pressed my palms against his chest. Fuuuck…
The wave of my pleasure crashed through me so wildly, so roughly, I thought I screamed. Maybe I did, I wasn’t sure…. It was all too much.
His hips pressed flush against mine and held there, and then, I felt it—the hot, liquid pulse of him releasing inside me, filling me in waves that seemed to go on forever.
His whole body shuddered above me, every muscle trembling. A sound tore from his throat, guttural and wrecked, my name wrapped around it like a confession. It was primal and unrestrained as he spilled inside me.
He didn’t pull out.
He hadn’t pulled out.
For several heartbeats, neither of us moved.
His weight pressed me into the mattress, his heart hammering against my chest. I could feel him still pulsing inside me, still stretching me in a way that ached so good.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were dark, almost black with satisfaction. A strand of dark hair fell across his forehead, damp with sweat.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Adrian’s gaze held mine, unapologetic. “I know.”
He rolled to the side, taking me with him, keeping me pressed against his body.
“You broke your promise,” I said, though the words lacked conviction. My body still hummed with the aftershocks of pleasure, making it difficult to summon genuine anger.
“I broke a lot of things tonight.” His voice was rough, exhausted. “Including, apparently, my own self-control.”
Warmth seeped through me, leaving my body loose and pleasantly weightless. I felt as though I was floating somewhere far above the ground, suspended in a haze I didn’t want to escape.
For once, my mind was quiet.
I should have been furious. I should have pushed him away, demanded an explanation, reminded him of the rules we’d established.
But I…couldn’t.
The lingering pleasure from the aftermath made it impossible to summon my temper. I simply couldn’t bring myself to be mad—not at him, not at myself, not at anything.
The same warmth lulled me deeper into its embrace until my eyelid grew too heavy to fight, fluttering once before finally slipping closed