Probably because I want him to push back.
And then he does, in a literal way. His hands on my upper arms. That’s all he uses to lift me up and toss me back toward the middle of the bed, like I weigh nothing. The breath whooshes out of me as I land, and I scramble to get away from him, breathless, panting, because it’s almost like a game again.
Almost. Because there aren’t any rules.
Stone grabs my ankle and drags me back to the middle of the bed. Then he grabs my other ankle, spreading me wide. I have this mental picture of him having sex with me this way, my legs pressed so wide apart, him far away at the foot of the bed. It doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what happens when you’re a virgin. Even your fantasies are a little confused.
And then he lowers his head, right there. Between my legs.
My fantasies didn’t prepare me for this.
His mouth touches my stomach, and I jerk away with a high-pitched sound. “What…what are you doing? No. Wait. Not that.”
He gives a low laugh. “Not that, says the girl who can still taste my cum.”
And I realize that he’s right. There’s salt that lingers on my tongue. Oh God, that makes me think about what I must taste like.
He slips his tongue into my core, warm and thick. He’s fucking me with his tongue. Invading my most secret place.
He pushes it deeper, again and again. I shudder at the sensation. I writhe and moan.
Heavy hands push my legs wider apart. He changes his motion, licking now, licking me like an ice cream cone. Except not exactly, because an ice cream cone is cold, and the heat from his tongue sizzles up through my belly.
He licks again, making wet sounds that are somehow more obscene than what he’s doing to me. Then his licks get smaller, more pointed, his tongue feeling more like a finger, thick and warm.
I never felt anything like it. I grab onto his hair, stunned at the feeling. His tongue between my legs is the best thing I’ve ever felt. Embarrassment washes over me for a split second when I make myself think how he’s licking right where I pee, but then he moans, rumbly with pleasure and approval, like he thinks it’s the best thing, too, and I let go.
The rules don’t apply when Stone is around, and everything is possible. I shove my hands into his hair and grab and twist. I hope I’m not hurting him.
But from his moans, he seems to like it.
He’s licking faster. He’s swirling good feelings through me, swirling and swirling them. It’s too much, but I don’t want him to stop.
There’s a high noise in the room, and I realize it’s me, crying out. Stone’s answer is a rumble between my legs, low and dark. His tongue is a live thing, wiggling on that special spot. It’s as if he knows exactly where I ache for him—even better than I do. As if he knows secrets hidden inside my body.
That’s when everything explodes behind my eyes. Pulsing waves of magic flow inside my head and down to my toes. “Stone!” I cry.
His licking is different now—softer. Like he’s softening with my pleasure. As if he’s taking care of me, even in this.
He slows and rumbles again. I can barely think. Everything seems so wild. I tighten my grip on his hair.
He’s kissing up my belly. Rumbling into the soft flesh there. He kisses between my breasts, kisses my neck.
He looms over me, cages me with massive arms.
“More, Stone.”
He studies my face, muscles bulging on either side of me.
“I want all of it. All of you.”
He looks down at me with a kind of wonder. “There’s no going back.”
“Please.” I reach down to grab him like he showed me, but he’s too far away. He wraps his fingers around my wrist and kisses the flat of my palm, then places it above my head. Somehow I know to keep it there. He trails rough fingers down the sensitive underside of my forearm, then down to my armpit, to the side of my breast.
I let out a gust of air. Everything with him is new and sexy.
He lowers himself. Slowly, muscles bulging. And he kisses me. He’s right on top of me—not enough to crush me, but I feel him there, heavy and good.
“Please,” I say into the kiss.
“I’m gonna give it to you good and slow, little bird, but you’re going to feel it.” It’s going to hurt, he means.
“I want to feel it,” I say, even as his thick fingers move at my entrance.
I feel the knob of him pushing into me, filling me. My breath quickens. It’s bliss and pain, mingled together.
I cry out.
He stills.
“Keep going,” I say.
Gentle fingers stroke the side of my forehead. “Breathe, baby.” He nips my lips. “Breathe.”
I take a deep breath, and he’s rocking into me, rocking gently. Filling me, stretching me impossibly wide.
I feel panicky, like maybe it’s too much. He’s so huge inside me.
I breathe again, and something warm in me unwinds, loosens, and he’s sliding deep. It feels like he’s filling me down to my toes.
“Stone,” I whisper.
Chapter 20
Stone
She feels like heaven—warmth and goodness and the home I never had. It takes every ounce of my restraint not to pound her right into the bed, right through the fucking floor, to devour her like an animal.
I don’t deserve her. But I’m taking her. It feels like I’ve been waiting for her forever.
She’s mind-bendingly tight. I brace my arms on either side of her and press all the way in.
And nearly come, right there. Like a schoolboy.
Fuck, that was close.
I move inside her, then, slow at first. She makes this sweet little gasp every time I rock into her. I could live on just that gasp. They could lock me up and throw away the key and not even feed me, but that little gasp contains everything I need. And her tight, hot cunt and her breasts, soft pillows against my ruined chest.
Her hands roam over my back, exploring, seeking.
Take it all, I think. Whatever you want.
All this time I was worried about ruining her. I never imagined she’d be the one ruining me.
Then she comes, and her little pussy squeezes me so hard I see stars.
There’s been sex. There’s been orgasms. There’s never been this, the pressure that builds at the base of my spine. That explodes in a wild burst of joy. I come hard and long, rutting into her body as if I can fuck her deep enough to merge with her. We won’t be two people anymore, just one fucking body.
It’s the collapse of my muscles, my strength that finally puts an end to it. And I collapse on top of her.
Climax has only ever meant release for me. That I’m done with whatever woman I’m with. That whatever man has taken me upstairs is finished for the night.
This climax isn’t an ending. It’s a beginning. When I look at her, everything seems clearer.
I love you. She said that to me.
It seemed impossible but inevitable. Because I love her, too. It’s the only thing that explains the way I take her hostage, again and again. The only thing that explains why I fucked her without a condom. Shit.
I push up on my elbows, looking down at her. She looks wrecked. Her eye makeup is smudged, her hair a crazy tangled halo. She’s never looked more beautiful.
If I weren’t already sunk, she would be a cannon blast in my side. She still is.