"I don't care." I stroke him again, fascinated by the way his abs contract, the way his breathing gets ragged. "I want you. However this happens, I just want you."
He makes a sound that's half growl, half groan, and then he's scooping me up again, easily, like I weigh nothing. One arm hooks under my ass, the other supporting my back, andsuddenly I'm lifted against the wall, my legs wrapping around his waist.
Nathan tried to pick me up once. Twice, actually. Both times he complained about my weight, about how I needed to lose a few pounds before we could try positions like this. Made me feel heavy, burdensome, like my body was an inconvenience.
But Richard makes it look effortless. His muscles don't even strain as he holds me, positions me, lines himself up at my entrance.
"Ready?" he asks, his voice tight with restraint.
I nod, not trusting my voice, and then he's pushing inside.
I'm wet, soaked from his mouth, from the orgasm he just gave me, so he slides in easily, but God, he's so thick. I feel every inch as he pushes deeper, filling me in a way I've never been filled before.
Nathan always complained that I wasn't tight enough, that sex with me was like "throwing a hot dog down a hallway." Made me feel inadequate, broken, like my body was fundamentally wrong.
But Richard's cock fills me perfectly. Stretches me just right, hits places I didn't know could be touched. And the way he's looking at me, like I'm everything, like this is the best thing he's ever felt, makes me feel desired in a way I've never experienced.
"Fuck," he groans when he's fully seated inside me. "You feel incredible. So tight, so perfect. Like you were made for my cock."
I can't respond. Can't form words. Because he's inside me! Richard Kane is inside me, and it feels so good I might actually cry!
He gives me a moment to adjust, his forehead pressed to mine, both of us breathing hard. Then he starts to move.
The first thrust is slow, and it makes my eyes roll back in my head. He pulls almost all the way out and then pushes back in, deep and steady, and I feel it everywhere. In my core, in my chest, in my fingertips.
"Oh my God." The words come out broken, gasping. "Richard, that's—"
"Good?" He does it again, that slow, deep thrust that makes my toes curl. "Does it feel good, baby?"
"Yes. God, yes." My head falls back against the wall, my mouth dropping open as he establishes a rhythm. "I've never… It's never felt like this—"
"That's because you've never been fucked by someone who actually knows what they're doing." His voice is possessive now. "Never been with a man instead of a boy. But you are now, Belle. And I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."
He punctuates the statement with a harder thrust, and I cry out, loud enough to echo off the glass walls. My nails dig into his shoulders, trying to anchor myself as pleasure builds with each stroke.
I can't focus. Can't think. Can't do anything except feel: the friction as he moves, the way his pelvis grinds against my clit on every thrust. My eyes won't stay open, rolling back every time he hits that perfect spot deep inside. My mouth won't close, hanging open as sounds I've never made pour out.
Drool slides from the corner of my lips, and I don't even care. I'm completely gone, lost in sensation, floating in a haze of pleasure I didn't know was possible.
"Look at you." Richard's voice is reverent, awed. "So fucking beautiful like this. Taking my cock so well, making those perfectsounds. This is how you should always be… Mindless with pleasure, worshipped exactly the way you deserve."
His words make me clench around him, and he groans, his rhythm faltering slightly.
"That's it, baby. Squeeze my cock. Show me how good it feels."
I'm babbling now—please and yes and Richard and God and every curse word I know, all tumbling out in an incoherent stream.
"You're close." It's not a question. Richard can feel it, can read my body like a book. "I can feel how tight you're getting, how your pussy is gripping my cock. You going to come for me again, Belle? Going to show me how beautiful you are when you fall apart on my cock?"
"Yes," I gasp. "Yes, I'm—I'm going to—"
"Then let go." He drives into me harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin obscene in this quiet space. "Come on my cock, baby. Let me feel you."
I scream his name, my whole body convulsing, my inner walls clamping down on his cock in rhythmic pulses.
"Fuck, yes." Richard fucks me through it, prolonging the pleasure until I'm sobbing. "That's my girl. So perfect. So fucking perfect."
When I finally start to come down, boneless and shaking, he pulls out gently. I whimper at the loss, feeling empty, but then he's turning me around, pressing my face and chest against the wall, pulling my hips back.
