Whit grabs my hand, interlacing our fingers as he leads me out of the bathroom and toward his massive bed. There’s another fireplace, the fire roaring, the flames licking high and I watch them, trembling when Whit comes behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.
“Get on the bed,” he says, his voice low. Commanding. “On your hands and knees. Let me look at you.”
I do as he says in a trance. Lost to the moment. The magic of the night. He goes to the bedside table and pulls open the drawer, revealing a bottle of lube.
My mouth goes dry as I watch him pop the cap and squeeze clear droplets onto his fingers. He rubs them together, the sticky liquid stringing between his fingers as he spreads them wide.
He moves behind me, his fingers delving between my cheeks without hesitation, stroking me there. His touch is achingly gentle and I close my eyes, willing myself to relax. Telling myself that it’ll feel good.
That I can trust him.
“Spread your legs wider,” he encourages and when I do as he commands, a groan leaves him. “God, I can see everything.”
He strokes. Teases. His fingers press. Deep. Deeper. Until he slips just the tip of his index finger into my ass, leaving it there. “Does that hurt?”
“No,” I whisper.
He plays with my ass for what feels like hours. Gets one finger inside. Then two. At one point, he slides beneath my body and licks at my pussy, sucks my clit, making me come. Gets three fingers inside me by then. He sucks my clit again, his fingers sliding in and out of my body and I climax once more within seconds, my asshole clenching tightly around his fingers as I come on his face.
“That is what I want to feel around my dick,” he says, his voice strangled as he shifts his position so he’s behind me once more. I hear a lid pop open and I can tell he’s squirting out more lube. Slicking it onto his cock maybe?
A jolt moves through me when he covers my asshole with the cool liquid.
“Tell me to stop if it hurts,” he says, notching the head of his cock right at my ass. He sounds eager. Excited. “You’re already open to me.”
He rubs his cock against me, and I moan softly at the delicious sensation. Oh God, he feels so big. Bigger than three fingers. I don’t know if he’ll fit. I don’t know if I want him to fit.
But he’s persistent. And oh so patient. This is what he wants, so he’s going to take his time. He rubs and teases, pushing just the head of his cock inside me before withdrawing completely. My mouth goes dry as I wait for the inevitable invasion, but he takes it so slowly, he’s halfway in before I realize what he’s doing.
“Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He draws the word out into at least five syllables as he slowly pushes inside. I hang my head, breathing hard, my body, my mind in shock.
He’s in my ass. And oh God, when he starts to move?
It hurts. But it’s a pleasurable sting. He has trouble finding his rhythm at first, and I can only assume it’s because it’s such a snug fit. I try to remain in position, but my arms are tired and they start to shake. Whit pauses and bends over me, his voice rough as he says, “Lift up.”
“Wa-wait—what?” I glance back at him as he reaches forward, his hands finding mine as he effortlessly pulls my body into an upright position.
I thought for sure that might bend his dick at a weird angle, but if anything, it sends him deeper inside my body, easing some of the stinging pain. My back is plastered to his front and he reaches around me, his fingers finding my pussy and rubbing it in circles.
“Holy shit, Summer,” he says, his voice in agony. In pleasure. “You’re so fucking wet. And you feel so damn good.”
I can barely move. Can only take his punishment as he thrusts into me again and again as he holds me to him. His soft grunts fill the quiet room, the slap of our skin, my panting breaths. It’s too much. Not enough.
“Such a good girl,” he croons as he plays with me with his fingers, strumming my clit so hard I cry out in agony, the orgasm slamming into me, stealing my breath, my thoughts, my everything. I go completely still before my body is consumed with shudders, my asshole clenching tightly around his cock over and over.
He comes with a strangled shout. I think my orgasm surprised him, and made him come too. I feel the hot flood of liquid, so foreign in my asshole, and he pulls out quickly, his semen dripping out of me and all over the bed.
“Jesus. You are a sight.” He touches me. Scoops up his cum with his fingers and spreads it all around my ass. “Messy. Sexy. Fuck, I’m still hard.”
I collapse onto the mattress, rolling away from the wet spot, my entire body weak with exhaustion. “I can’t do anymore,” I whisper as I close my eyes and snuggle my face into the mattress. My bones are weary. My mind, blank.
He climbs off the bed and I can sense him watching me quietly. I don’t move. Don’t say a word and neither does he.
Minutes later I can hear him moving about the bathroom. The toilet flushing. The faucet running. And then he’s back, his body causing the mattress to dip as he reaches for me, his hands at my waist, tugging me close to him.
“I’m going to clean you up,” he murmurs, just before placing a warm, damp washcloth against my ass. He washes my body, cleaning every last bit of semen from me before rubbing me gently with a thick, dry towel. I lay there and take it without a word, like a baby who needs to be coddled and cared for.
He moves away from the bed again, no doubt getting rid of the washcloth and towel, and then he’s back. Wordless as he shifts me around and pulls the covers over my limp body before he climbs into the bed, joining me.
Holding my breath, I wait for him to touch me. Or to just say goodnight. His body is so still, I wonder if he’s even breathing.
“Did I hurt you?” he finally asks, his voice rough. A rasp in the air.
“No.”
Whit rolls over so he’s facing me. I can make out his beautiful face from the firelight. “Don’t lie to me, Summer.”
I much prefer it when he calls me by my first name. The moment becomes more charged. More intimate. “I’m not lying. I liked it. You made me come, didn’t you?”
“Still. I think I hurt you. No, I know I hurt you.” He reaches for me, pulling me into his arms so I’m pressed against his long, hard body. I nestle my head against his chest, savoring the sound of his steady heartbeat. “I’ve never done that before.”
“Done what?” I ask sleepily.
“Anal. You’re my first. The only girl I’ve ever wanted to be with like that.” He tightens his arms around me. “I didn’t want to fuck it up.”
His admission does something to me—makes me feel lighter than air. Floating. Weightless. I tip my head back, my lips pursed. Eager for his kiss. “You didn’t fuck it up.”
He kisses me, as if he knows I need it. Maybe he needs it too. “We should go to sleep.”
“Can I—”
“Stay,” he says, cutting me off. “Sleep with me.”
This is the second time we’ve done this. And it throws me. He throws me. I don’t know what’s happening between us. Why he’s being so agreeable. Thoughtful. It’s exhilarating.
It’s scary.
But I do realize one thing.
I’m completely defenseless. Weak to him and his wants. His needs. He knows it. He has complete command of me. Body and soul.