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“Like how?” he asked.
“Everything you do feels so good to me.”
“Does this feel good?” he asked as he slowly pulled his cock out to the tip and thrust it back in.
“Yes... Again...”
He pulled back out to the tip, thrust in again, back out, in again, pausing before each thrust, making her wait for it, making her miss it inside her before giving it back to her.
“I want you to come for me,” he said. “I want to feel it on my cock. Can you come? Are you close?”
Her thighs were tight as knots and her lungs burned and every time he entered her, her vagina clenched down onto him.
“So close,” she said, nodding against his shoulder.
“Good. Come for me, then, baby. I need you to come for me.”
He needed her to come for him... It should have intimidated her, but it didn’t. He wanted her to orgasm as much as she did.
Erick released his rough hold on her to give her more room to move underneath him. She clutched the sheets in her fingers as he braced himself over her, his hands on either side of her shoulders. Where their bodies met and joined, she felt the most deliciously intense pulsing sensation, a rhythmic throbbing that she wanted to feel forever. He drove into her with long thrusts designed to draw every bit of pleasure out of the movement as possible. Each penetration grazed her clitoris and each withdrawal left her aching for the next thrust. It was happening; she was there, so close. Yes, this is how she wanted it to happen, how she’d always wanted it. It felt so natural, so right, so sexual and sensual and erotic. She didn’t feel nervous anymore. She didn’t feel scared. She felt filled up and open and wet. It burned but it didn’t hurt. She couldn’t get enough of Erick, enough of his cock. Writhing beneath him, Clover felt the most incredible tightening, like someone had wrapped a rope around her hips and pulled it taut and tight and tauter until it was ready to snap.
She heard Erick’s breathing, heard him say her name, heard him say “fuck” a few times. She’d never found that word very sexy until it came from his mouth while he was in her body with nothing between them but his own T-shirt he’d given her to wear. She would keep this shirt until she died. He could have it back over her dead body and not a second sooner.
It was everything she’d always wanted it to be. The bed rocked beneath them and Erick put his entire body into fucking her so that she felt his every breath and his every thrust. The headboard rattled against the wall and she moved under him and with him, taking every inch of his cock into her. She was so wet it didn’t even hurt, not one bit. Thirty years of pent-up need and desire and dreaming of being taken like this peaked in one perfect moment. With her eyes closed and her head back and her hips hovering inches off the mattress, she came hard, her inner muscles contracting in sharp spasms that left her panting and dizzy.
Erick’s fingers were in her hair and he tilted her head back even farther. He kissed her throat, thrust in hard and came inside her. She could tell he was coming because he went silent, completely silent for the first time since penetrating her.
He lay on top of her and breathed into her ear while she sleepily kissed his naked shoulders, his neck, his chest. Good thing the lights were off so he couldn’t see what she knew was a stupid-looking grin on her face. She felt drunk, tired, happy and sore, and she loved all of it.
Erick slowly pull
ed out of her and rolled onto his back. He took a heavy breath.
“Well...” he said.
“Well?”
He rolled onto his side and draped his arm over her stomach.
“That was unexpected.”
“Imagine how I feel,” she said.
“I am. Can I ask you one question?”
“Go ahead,” she said. She’d expected more than one question. One question only was getting off easy.
“Why the hell were you still a virgin at thirty? And why didn’t you tell me before I pounded you into the bed?”
“That’s two questions.”
“One’s a follow-up to the first one. Two-parter.”
“Can I ask you a question first?” she asked.
“Ask.”
“Are you mad at me?”
