I’m so wet, it’s obscene. I’m so aroused, I should be embarrassed.
But I’m not because he’s so turned on. His noises are raw and primal—greedy moans paired with hungry hands as he squeezes my ample ass and worships my wetness.
In seconds, I’m close again, cresting again. Waves of bliss crash over me, and I cry out, reaching for the edge. “I’m close,” I say, arching against him, hunting for pleasure.
But then, the devil—the fucking devil—stops. He sits up on his knees, and I howl. “I wanted to come.”
With a smirk, he grabs my wrists and mirrors his move from earlier, climbing over me and pinning them above my head.
“I know you did.” He smirks. “Tell me I’m a dick.”
“You’re a dick. You denied me,” I say, and those aren’t words I ever thought I’d say to a man in the heat of the moment. But I feel strangely free to voice them. To sass him. To give him a hard time. Maybe because he’s been so forthright with me, I can be direct with him.
He shoots me a crooked grin. “Your sweet pussy is aching for me, isn’t it?”
“Finn!” I’m half shocked I have the nerve to beg but mostly helpless to do anything else. “You’re terrible!”
He sighs, seeming so damn pleased. “Beg for it. Beg for me.”
I don’t know if he means with his cock or his mouth or his tongue. But I truly don’t care. “Make me come,” I plead.
He reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and takes out a tiny black vibrator. “Bought this the other night. Just for you,” he says.
Are you kidding me? He bought me a vibrator? My entire sex life for the last several months has consisted of quality time with vibrators. Bring it on.
“Now,” I demand.
He slides the vibrating toy across my aching center, then comes close to my face. Only, he doesn’t kiss my mouth. He kisses my neck while he glides the vibrating bullet across my clit.
I’m burning up with the need to climax. My back arches. My toes curl.
He didn’t lie. He is obsessed with my pleasure, and I think I am too. But I’m also clawing at the sheets, overcome with the chase. I’m begging, thrashing. “Please, please, please.”
It’s exhilarating and excruciating all at once.
Especially when he turns off the vibrator, leaving me wailing. “Finn,” I cry.
And this is strange too. This weird comfort I feel with him. This freedom to beg, to plead, to ask for what I want.
But I don’t have to ask. Because he’s got a plan, and it involves his magic mouth.
He slides back between my legs and looks up at me, that glint returning to his eye.
“Come now.” He eats me. I rock against his face, shouting yes, yes, yes. Pleasure whips through me in a wild frenzy, a burst of color and lights and incomparable bliss.
I shake with ecstasy, and he groans like nothing in his life is better than my climax.
When I open my eyes, he’s standing, stripping to nothing. He’s chiseled everywhere. Arms, legs, abs. And cock.
I push up on my elbows, shameless as I stare at his dick pointing at me. He’s thick, pulsing. It’s a little terrifying though. After all these years of not wanting sex, is it possible to want it too much?
I am just one sweet ache right now.
The weight of all this desire presses on me as he reaches for his cock and strokes it, showing me how ludicrously turned on he is. “How do you want me?”
I hesitate, unsure how to answer. Everyone says first times are better when the woman is on top. When she’s in control. But I’ve spent far too many waking hours trying to control my own thoughts. In bed, I want to be dominated. To be taken. To be owned.
“Just. Like. This,” I say, looking down at my body, spread out before him.
“Good. Because I want to look at your beautiful face, your gorgeous tits, and your incredible mouth while I fuck you,” he says, then grabs a condom from the nightstand and rolls it on. He positions himself between my thighs. But he stops, freezing in place. When his eyes lock with mine, and I see…guilt.
We’ve not only crossed lines; we’ve willfully vaulted over them. We’re complicit in a crime.
We hold each other’s gazes, knowing that terrible truth without needing to say it. Knowing we’re wrong to come together.
And doing it anyway.
I take my fate in my hands as I sit up, cup his cheeks, and make him look at me. “Have me,” I say firmly. “I’m begging you.”
He shuts his eyes, squeezing them as he grits his teeth. But when he opens his eyes, any resignation is long gone. He’s all fire and need as he rubs the head of his dick against my wetness, then pushes in.
I freeze. It hurts, and it hurts a little more as he goes deeper. “Jules.” He’s so tender. “Are you okay?”
Am I?
Of course I am.
I close my eyes. This is just temporary. It will pass. The pain will float away.
When I open my eyes, the ache is already ebbing. “I’m good,” I say, meaning it.
He growls, arching a doubtful brow. “Are you sure?”
“Please don’t stop,” I say.
He gives a slow thrust, since he can’t seem to resist my request. In one hour, I’ve learned that basic truth about him. He wants to smother me in pleasure, and I want to be blanketed.
He pauses, and I breathe deeply, then shudder past the fullness, the intensity, and just revel in the goodness. “I love this,” I say, my voice trembling.
“Yeah?”
“I do,” I gasp out.
I’m so aroused, so strung out on bliss. He braces himself on his palms and stares down at me, never breaking his gaze as he swivels his hips and takes me apart thrust by delicious thrust as I run my hands over his chest, twist my fingers in his hair.
It’s intense, the look in his green eyes, the way he owns me, how he dominates me. “Look at you. You’re taking my cock like such a good dirty girl,” he praises.
Well, that’s true.
And taking his dick feels incredible. He never looks away from me as he pumps those trim hips. He fucks me powerfully and passionately, following my cues and speeding up as my breath races, and slowing down as I moan long and low.
Then, when I’m babbling incoherently, he slides a hand between my thighs and rubs delicious circles on my clit. “Give me another.”
“Don’t deny me this time,” I say, desperately.
“I won’t. Need to feel your pussy clenching my cock.”
His mouth, his filth, his unbridled lust, make me feel unhinged. Like I could say something dangerous, something dirty.
And...I can.
Holy shit.
I can say what’s in my head. “Fuck me hard till I come,” I blurt out, feeling wild and daring.
He complies, thrusting deeper and playing with my clit till I’m reduced to nothing but heat and sweat and desire.
One deep thrust. A few fast flicks, and I’m breaking into beautiful pieces. He roars, “Yes, fucking yes,” and he follows me there.
A few minutes later, he’s lying next to me, looking spent, and I’m feeling dazed.
Totally unsure too.
What do I do now? What do we say? But before I can linger in doubt, he takes my hand, slowly brushing his thumb over each of my knuckles. “I’ve wanted this ever since we met at the first party,” he murmurs against my neck, sending shivers down my spine.