16. Lena #2
He growls softly. “Baby, the way you respond to me… You’re going to kill me tonight,” he whispers, licking the curve of my breast. “I didn’t know your body was this hungry.”
“I didn’t either,” I breathe.
But before he can move lower, I push gently against his chest. He lets me, falling back onto the bed, eyes locked on mine with a look that’s half-amused, half-feral.
I climb over him slowly, sliding one thigh across his hips, settling on top of him with a teasing smile.
His hands find my waist, gripping tight as I lean down to kiss his chest. One kiss.
Then another, down the line of his torso. He twitches hard beneath me.
“You think you’re in control now, baby?” he murmurs, voice rough at the edges.
I don’t get a chance to answer. In one swift movement, he grabs my hips, flips me effortlessly onto my back, and pulls me down the bed. His mouth is all hunger now, and his eyes burn into mine as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and drags them down. His gaze never leaves mine.
“These need to go,” he growls.
I lift my hips, breath stalling as he slides them off, tossing them aside. In a blink, he’s on me. Dominic pins me beneath him, all heat and weight, one arm slipping under my lower back to drag me closer, like he wants every inch of me flush against him.
I gasp as his mouth crashes back onto mine, his hand slipping between my thighs again, fingers already finding me slick and aching.
“You’re not taking over, baby,” he rasps against my lips. “Not tonight. I want to feel you give in to me.”
His fingers stroke between my thighs, brushing over my clit—soft at first, growing firmer, until he circles with maddening precision. My hips jerk.
“Oh, God…” I whimper, already unraveling.
“I love how wet you are for me,” he murmurs, kissing my mouth before trailing down. “Tell me, baby… do you want more?”
“Yes,” I gasp under his lips. “Please.”
“More fingers?” he teases, slipping another inside.
“Yes.”
“Or my mouth?”
“All of it,” I beg.
And he gives it to me, He lowers to my core, settling between my hips, his tongue joining his fingers, working in tandem, licking, stroking, curling inside me until I’m crying out his name. My voice breaks, my hands clutching the sheets as I completely fall apart.
I’m still trembling when he pulls away. He rises from the bed, strides to the drawer, and pulls out a box of condoms. Without a word, he tosses it onto the nightstand, like a promise. Like a plan for the whole damn night.
He grabs one and tears the foil open with his teeth, like a man who’s done waiting.
“A box? So confident?” I tease, breathless, eyeing the stack still untouched.
He looks down at me with that wicked fire in his eyes. “With you? Hell yeah.”
He rolls the condom onto his thick, veiny, impossibly hard cock, and steps back to the bed. He grabs my hips and pulls me to the edge, spreading my legs wide. His eyes stay locked on mine, dark, wild, completely focused.
“You’re mine tonight,” he growls. “And I’m going to take my time exploring every part of you. Touching you where you ache the most, making you lose it for me—loud, messy, and begging for more.”
His hand trails between my thighs, dragging slow and dirty over my clit.
Standing at the edge of the bed, he grips my hips firmly, fingers digging into the softness there as he holds my legs wide open. Then, he lets one hand trail between my thighs, the pad of his palm brushing over my swollen clit in a firm, final drag that makes me shiver.
“You’re going to take all of me, baby,” he says, voice low. “Take, taste, scream, and come so hard you forget your own name.”
And then he thrusts. He pushes in, thick and unrelenting, and all I can do is gasp, stretched full around him.
My hands clutch the sheets, back arching as my body stretches to take him, to fit around him.
He’s thick, hard, filling me until I swear I can feel him in places I didn’t know could ache for this.
He lets out a guttural groan, his grip on my hips tightening like he’s anchoring himself. “Fuck, Lena… you feel like heaven. So tight. So perfect.”
I can’t speak. I gasp, broken, shallow, as he starts to move.
A slow grind at first, every push of his cock dragging against every nerve ending inside me.
My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.
Needing him. And when our eyes meet again, there’s something more than hunger burning between us.
Something fierce and unspoken, like a vow made without words.
He drives into the next thrust, harder, rougher. I cry out, not from pain, but from the overwhelming, soul-stealing pressure of finally having him. Inside me. All of him. And I never want him to stop.
But Dominic’s not done. He pulls out slowly, his eyes never leaving mine as he straightens. “Turn around,” he murmurs.
My breath catches. He rolls me over, gripping my hips as he lifts me gently onto my knees.
My elbows sink into the mattress, my back arched instinctively, offering myself to him, aching for him.
His hand slides down the curve of my spine, warm and firm, a caress and a claim all in one.
“I need to see you like this,” he growls, kneeling behind me.
He enters me again, deeper this time, impossibly deep. I cry out into the pillow, half-moan, half-shock. My fingers clutch the sheets as he finds his rhythm, hips snapping forward with raw, desperate need.
He grips my hips, anchoring me as he pulls back into every thrust, filling me over and over until I can barely breathe, let alone think.
“Oh, my God… Dominic…” I whimper.
“Say it again,” he pants behind me. “Say my name.”
“Dominic, please, don’t stop.”
His hands slide up to my breasts, cupping them roughly, fingers teasing my nipples while he keeps thrusting, each push harder, more intense.
The wet slap of skin against skin, our ragged gasps, my broken moans…
it’s all too much. I’m coming undone. The pressure builds low in my belly, molten, fast, unstoppable.
“Fuck, you feel like you were made for me,” he groans, voice raw with need.
I’m already gone. My body tenses, shudders, and explodes in a climax so sharp, so shattering, it knocks the breath from my lungs.
I cry out, trembling beneath him, helpless against the waves that crush through me.
He thrusts once. Twice. Then stills, buried deep inside, groaning my name in a raw, guttural spill as he follows me over the edge.
His body collapses onto mine, chest pressed to my back, his breath hot and ragged in my ear.
Neither of us moves. And in that quiet, wrapped in him, I know.
This wasn’t about release. It was about giving in without fear or armor.