There. That’s what he’d pictured when he’d seen the arch of that headboard. Her back arched the same way, her head on his shoulder, her neck bare, her thighs wide.
His hands slid down the outsides of those soft, dimpled thighs. Slowly, slowly, spread over her inner thighs and inched upward. Then all that wetness and heat lay under his fingertips, and her breath caught as he petted her there. Smoothed her hair aside. Traced the furrow of her sex, each delicate fold entirely new. Entirely fascinating.
She was so slick, so sweet as she pressed into his touch, gasped at the edge of his teeth on her neck. Her fingernails bit into his thighs, and he gave a helpless rock of his hips, grinding himself against all that softness.
A stroke down her center made her sigh, but a slow circle of her clitoris elicited little gasping whimpers. When he spread two fingers, rubbing softly on either side of that peak, she raised her arms and gripped his hair with both hands. Tugged sharply, until the throb of his cock nearly blinded him.
Fuck. She needed to come first.
But God, she was straining now, her back in that lovely bow, her neck exposed.
With his tongue, his teeth, his lips, he worked the flesh there, but kept his fingers slow, slow, slow. Steady. Stroking until her clitoris had swelled, slick and sensitive, and her pussy pulsed in occasional little clenches. Not orgasms, but not far away either.
Her little puffs of breath came faster, and her sounds became harsh. Guttural.
She fisted his hair, pulled, and gasped that she needed harder. More.
He rubbed harder, pressed deeper, in little circles, until her head was tossing on his shoulder, and he couldn’t keep his mouth on her neck.
With another, louder gasp, she stiffened, and then her sex began pulsing beneath his fingertips, her slickness coating his hand, as she ground against his touch and moaned and came and came and came.
As she rode his hand, her nails dug into his scalp, the grip of her fingers in his hair tight enough to make his eyes water.
God, it felt amazing.
When she finally collapsed back against his chest, sweaty and still, he whispered into her ear. “Do you think you can come a second time? With me inside you?”
With that murmur into her sensitive ear, she twitched against his fingers again.
“We can try,” she said, her voice hoarse. “But if I don’t, I won’t feel deprived. Believe me.”
She got up on shaky knees, her round ass jiggling in a way that made him bite off a groan, and he rolled on the condom. Then she was sinking down onto his cock, her sex gripping him tight as he pressed deeper and deeper.
She wriggled a little, adjusting her position, and took more of him. All of him.
With a sway of her hips, she began a gentle rocking motion. A slow grind of her ass in his lap as she pursued her pleasure. Bracing himself against the headboard, he pulsed his own hips up and down, working his cock deeper and rubbing himself inside her again and again.
“This feels…” Her moan vibrated in her throat. “It’s so good, but I can’t…”
“Can’t come like this?” he managed to gasp out.
She shook her head.
Gently, he tipped her forward, easing out from inside her. Urged her to her knees, her head against the mattress.
Then he ate her from behind, licking into all that slickness and those swollen, plump folds. Flicking against her clitoris until she started those telltale little clenches again, the not-quite-orgasms.
He rose to his knees and pushed deep once more. She shoved herself against him, taking him to the root, and snapped her hips forward and back again. Fucking herself on him. He gripped her hips, fingertips tight, and fucked her right back, until he was breathing in harsh inhalations and making helpless sounds of pleasure as he watched all that tight wetness stretch around his cock, enveloping him even as he sank inside her over and over again.
This white static of agonizing pleasure…he had no context for it. No—
She reached between her legs. Rubbed. And then she sobbed out a breathlessfuck, and her pussy locked down on him, squeezing and convulsing until he thrust one last time and held. His throat strained as he made a sort of strangled howl and let go, let himself come inside Rose in furious spasms of release and teeth-clenching ecstasy.
She was tightening around him, working her internal muscles to draw out his pleasure, and he fell forward, barely able support his weight on his hands, as he kissed her spine. Kissed her shoulder. Kissed anywhere he could reach.
Jesus, he’d had no idea. Had always thought books and movies exaggerated.
If anything, they’d undersold sex. Maybe because those books and movies weren’t about Rose, and she was the crucial bit. The crux of everything.
