So fucking wet.
So fucking hot.
So fucking turned on.
She rocks her hips and her ass back into me, practically thrashing on the bed. My hands are wrapped around her thighs, and my tongue flicks over the delicious rise of her clit.
Her cries transform. Louder. Longer. Higher. A collection of I’m so close, and yes, and then just oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
I devour her, kissing her lovely pussy until she shatters.
She unleashes the most glorious sound from her throat—a strangled and beautiful cry of rapture that might be my name, or God’s name, or just an incoherent string of syllables to punctuate her pleasure as she detonates.
* * * *
Penny
At some point—maybe in a week, maybe a year—this orgasm might recede.
Might.
For now, I’m drunk. I’m high. I’m under the influence of some kind of euphoria.
This man.
This night.
Us.
As I blink open my eyes, he’s flipped me back over again, and I can’t think of anything but this exquisite ache between my legs, which was sated but has returned instantly. I need more of him. All of him.
He kneels over me, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking.
God, he’s gorgeous—his long hair, his ink-covered arms, his lean, toned abs. And his cock. I don’t think I could even say that word in my head when I was twenty-one. All I knew then was I wanted it inside me. Now, I can’t stop staring at his cock—long, thick, curved.
My mouth goes dry. I want him so much.
My skin is burning. This is a fever, and I don’t want to bring my temperature down.
I want to take him into me. I want to be filled by him. Only him. Always him. It’s only ever been him.
I reach for his shoulders, pulling him closer. I’m not sure I can speak again. When he rubs the head of his cock through all that wetness between my legs, my brain shuts down. I simply combust. It’s as if I’m having an out-of-body experience within my body. It’s as if I’ve become one with the physical, and everything in me is connected to him.
Somehow, the wires in my brain reattach enough for me to say what’s in my heart. “Please. I need you. Please get inside me.”
He slides his cock across me, teasing me more, driving me absolutely out of my mind. My hips arch off the bed, my nails dig into his flesh, and my chest heats to dangerous levels. Every molecule in my body is white-hot.
“Penny.” His voice has never been huskier with me, never been rougher.
“Yes?”
“Are you on the pill?”
I nod quickly. “Yes, God yes. Are you safe?”
“I am.”
And that’s all. He sinks into me, and I cry out.
I do. I just fucking do.
He fills me completely—so far and deep, and so fucking perfect. Lowering to his elbows, his chest to mine, his eyes on me, he’s as close as he can be as he thrusts. As he strokes. As he rocks into me.
He groans my name as his cock stretches me, and the tip hits me so intensely that I scream out.
Not in pain, but in pleasure. Oh God, in so much pleasure I don’t know how I can keep it all inside me. I feel as if I’m going to burst with ecstasy, that all of this intensity will spill over, and yet I crave more.
I have more than enough bliss. I have more than I need, but I’m greedy and I want it all with him.
His hands rope into my hair, and he fucks and he fucks and he fucks, his hips driving powerfully into me.
“God, it’s good. It’s so fucking good. It’s you,” he rasps.
“Yes. Yes. Yes.” It’s all I can say. Because it’s all I can feel. The answer to everything is yes.
I hook my legs tighter around his ass, my fingers curling through his hair, and I do everything to draw him in closer. Deeper.
Existence around us fades, burning away into nothingness, to pure darkness. Because all the starlight in my world is here with him. With this man I fell for ten years ago. Now, I’m not just falling.
I’m there.
I’m in love.
And it isn’t just any kind. It’s the big kind. The crazy kind. The type of love that latches on to you and won’t let go. I bring my mouth to his ear, ready to tell him, ready to share my whole heart, but then he pushes so deep into me that I see stars. I see the light of distant planets. I see entire universes. It’s that good. It’s that intense.
I unravel in the most mind-bending, breathtaking, toe-curling kind of climax. It unfurls. It spreads, and the aftershocks roll through me as he chases me there, coming and not stopping. Just like me, just like him, just like us.
He’s loud. Hot, and rough, and sexy.
I barely know what he’s saying, because he’s speaking another language, but it’s carnal and dirty and so fucking beautiful.
The next words, though, I understand them perfectly.
He collapses onto my chest. “Je t’aime,” he breathes into my neck.
And I soar. “I love you, Gabriel. I fell in love with you then. I’m in love with you now.”
“The same, my love. It’s completely the same for me.”
* * * *
Gabriel
We eat.
We drink.
We devour dessert and each other.
Not necessarily in that order. Or any order. The whole night is one big fiesta of consumption—of food and wine and treats and her.
And after the third time, or perhaps the fourth, we’re sweaty and slick, and her breasts are red, and she looks perfectly manhandled by me. A shower sounds nice, but when I wrap my arm around her, she yawns, and I decide that the morning is for washing up.