I clear my throat. “You can move your hands. I want you to pull your legs back. Show me that pretty hole, whore.”
Rowan puffs out a startled breath. When he lifts his hands, he doesn’t simply reach down and grab hold. His hands slide fromthe edges of the bed to his abdomen, then down his thighs. It’s a slow, sensual slide until he reaches his knees and hooks his hands under them, exposing himself to me.
“You have no idea how enticing you look right now.” The way those pale cheeks of his color so prettily, I swear.
“Y-you sure? Because it feels weird being all exposed like this.”
“You’re a whore. You’ve been fucked plenty.”
“Not like this.” His cheeks redden even more. “This feels kind of…”
He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t need to. It’s an oddly intimate and vulnerable position. When I chose it, I was thinking I wanted to test his boundaries a little, but now?
Now, I’m looking at this colossal body on display, his flushed cheeks and his teeth digging into his lower lip. I’m close enough to smell the bodywash from his shower. His limbs tremble, making me feral to slide inside him right fucking now before I think too hard about anything else.
I’m concentrating on his exposed hole. My lubed fingers. My thumb makes careful circles around his entrance, pressing a little at a time until his broken moans get loud enough to make my ears ring. Adding more lube, I come back with two fingers. This time it’s with purpose, seeking his prostate and enjoying when the jolt of sensation causes him to lose his grip on himself.
“I’m sorry. It’s hard to hold on.” That long tongue of his snakes out to wet his lips.
“Just relax, baby.” That slip I keep making gives me pause, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
Good. No need to make it a thing.
“Just relax? Sure. Thanks for the tip. Let’s trade places and see how relaxed you are.” Under Rowan’s anger is an edge of something that makes me uneasy. The way his lip quivers again causes me to abandon the rest of my plans.
Why’s he getting emotional? Not that I’m going to ask. I’m used to impersonal one-night stands, and they’re usually content to let me fuck them or ride them hard and leave them dehydrated but satisfied. Nobody’s looking to share feelings.
Which is good. Feelings aren’t exactly in my wheelhouse.
“Relax,” I murmur as I push his knees up with my hands and slide inside. I’m slow this time. Unnecessary, probably, but I’ve already fucked him once recently. My speed, or lack thereof, has nothing to do with the play of his facial expressions. The press of his trembling lips. The low moans. The way his head tips back on a gasp when I bury myself to the hilt.
The way his fingers claw the bed when I rock into him.
“Do you like this, whore? You like me fucking you with one of your senses taken away?”
Making sure he’s not freaking out. I don’t need a disaster on my hands. That’s all.
“It’s… Yeah,” he breathes. “It’s intense. I’ve never felt anything like this.”
I’ve never felt anything like this.
It’s wild to me, given all the experience he must have. Everything I do to him seems to delight and awe, and it would be too easy to get attached to the open wonder on his face. Good thing his eyes are still covered.
“Oh God,” he moans when I pull out. “Are you going to do that thing again? With your hands around my neck?”
“Did you like that?”
“Yes. No. Yes. Both.”
I laugh. “Sounds about right.”
“Can you—you like it hard, right? Can you do that again? Fuck me hard? Make it hurt?”
“Is that what you like?” Maybe I’ve hit the jackpot after all.
“I never—uh, yeah. I think I do.”
Fuck, if he was about to tell me he hasn’t done that before me either, my brain might melt. How am I managing so many of this man’s firsts?
