He grunts in acknowledgement but doesn’t stop, letting me shift into a reverse straddle, my knees bracketing his head as I face the rest of his body.
Now I can see his cock, hard, thick, flushed, and twitching with every sound I make.The image alone drives me closer to the edge.He’s not even touching himself, and yet he's dripping for me.
He grips my thighs tighter, holding me to his face.His tongue circles my clit in hard, deliberate strokes until I can barely breathe and I grind down, chasing my orgasm.
Then he thrusts his tongue inside me, fingers spreading me open just enough, and I cry out, one hand flying to brace on his stomach, feeling the hard muscle flex beneath my palm and the heat of his skin.
He doesn’t stop; it's like he needs me to come just as badly as I do.My vision blurs as I watch it happen.His cock jerks, untouched, and he comes all over himself.Oh my God.The sight sends me over, and I understand what he meant about having no control.Because watching him fall apart like this makes me feel desired in a way I’ve never experienced.
My whole body tightens, thighs squeezing around his head as I come apart on his tongue with a cry of his name.
When the trembling finally starts to ease, I crawl forward, heart pounding, and lower myself to his stomach.
I lick him clean.I don’t know what comes over me.I just need to taste him.I need to finish this the way I started, with all of him.
Beneath me, he groans.
“You’re gonna fucking ruin me.”
I don’t know what that means, and right now, I don’t care.
Slowly, I get up on shaky legs.
“Where do you think you’re going?”he asks.
“I want to lie beside you,” I say.My legs still quivering, my mind still fuzzy, but all I want to do right now is be close to him.Have his arms around me and process what just happened.“I think I need a moment to recover.”
“You want something to eat or drink?”
I shake my head.“No, I’m good.”
“Let me just get some cream for you.”
He returns from the bathroom and gently massages it into my tender skin.After washing his hands, he rejoins me in bed, pulling me into his side.My head rests against his chest, warm and steady under my cheek.The rhythm of his heart, the soft texture of his chest hair, it’s a form of comfort I didn’t expect to want.
I shouldn’t be doing this.Cuddling is intimate.It’s more than just sex.It’s the kind of thing you do with someone you’re in a relationship with, not someone you’re having a fling with.I should let him fuck me so I can get up and leave.I’ve never cuddled with a fling before.
His fingers brush through my hair.My eyes grow heavy, and I drift off to sleep.
I wasn’t even tired, but something about being here, wrapped in his warmth, surrounded by his woody cologne, calms me in a way I didn’t expect.It settles something in me.
When I wake up, the room is light but quiet.I blink, disoriented for a second, then hear his voice.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”He pulls me tighter to him.
I tilt my head up and meet his gaze.“Hey.Sorry… you’re just too comfortable.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he says softly, brushing a piece of hair away from my face.His fingers trace my jaw, and he leans down and presses a kiss to the top of my forehead.“You needed the rest for the next round.”
“Oh?”I arch an eyebrow, my eyes locked on his.
He bends forward, and we kiss.
My body is relaxed but already starting to wake up in other ways.Already starting to want him again.“Are you ready now?”
“Are you?”I glance down.The tent in the sheets answers that question for him.
“Well,” I tease.“What if I’m not ready?”
