Page 95 of Merging Wright

Mach places his cock at my entrance again and glides inward, prolonging the forward motion, pausing a beat to kiss me. Then he pulls out of me again.

“Mach,” I groan as his fingers return to my clit, toying with me. My legs quake and my arms struggle just the slightest. I want to grab his ass and force him into me, hold him in place, and feel the weight of him buried deep inside. But Mach has his own agenda as he repeats the lazy entrance and equally idle exit. Only this time, he clutches his thickness and rubs the seeping tip against my clit.

“Baby,” he mutters as he glances down to where he’s dragging himself against that nub of pleasure. “I’m about to come unleashed.” The strain in his voice doesn’t match his languid actions. Once more he enters me, and then he holds, diddling my clit with his length inside me. I squeeze, and I clutch, and then a release so sweet, so pure cascades over me. My legs stiffen while my back arches, and I come in a way I never have before. My arms struggle against the restraints, and his fingers slip free from holding my hand. I’m outside my own skin.

Mach presses up on one arm, his other hand still against my clit, drawing out the delicious orgasm.

“Enough,” I whisper as I glide away from the release.

Something shifts in Mach. He bends his knees, lifting my thighs over his. My feet come to the mattress for support, and Mach grips my hips. He pulls back to the edge, teasing me, and then he surges forward. I cry out at the sudden swiftness. Back and forth, he pummels, increasing the tempo, clutching my hips to hold me in place while my lower half is slightly raised. The position allows Mach’s dick to drag over my g-spot with each and every thrust.

“Oh God . . . I think I’m . . .” I’m going to come again.

“Fall over me,” Mach strains, concentrating on where he enters me, thrusting into me faster, tapping inside me deeper one second while rubbing me right where I need on the outside another. Back and forth, he rushes until my legs shake again.

A second eruption rumbles. The orgasm is hardly detected before it’s upon me, and I’m suddenly dripping where we’re connected.

“Mach,” I cry out. The insides of my thighs are slick, and something seeps between the seam of my backside. What is happening to me?

I have no time to ask before Mach demands, “Hold on.”

Abruptly, he leaves my body, and I’m flipped to my belly and pushed to my knees. To my surprise, my wrists easily move while still keeping me bound to the bed frame. With my ass in the air, Mach is quick to re-enter me. The pad of his thumb comes to the puckered hole, which is an exit not an entrance on me.

“Mach,” I hiss in warning after the cry of his name, but the pressure he places there adds to everything else happening to my body. He has control of one hip while he rocks into me and uses that thumb like a weapon of mass destruction. If he pushes it any further forward, he’ll be inside me in a place no one has ever entered, and I can’t say I’m opposed. I suddenly want him everywhere.

“Mach.” My voice cracks in question. I’ve lost control of my senses and my body. Whatever poured out of me coats me enough that Mach moves forward with the tip of his thumb.

“That’s it, baby. Take me. Make me yours. You belong to me, and I belong to you.”

Jesus, the addition of pretty words muddles all my thoughts.

“I think . . . I’m going to . . . ohmygod.” A third orgasm nearly rips me apart as Mach’s thumb slips deeper and his cock stills inside me, jetting off in a way that every pulse feels more pronounced. My own release ripples over his, and I scream into the pillow underneath me.

I’ve never felt anything like this.

I’m certain I’ve seen stars or lost consciousness or something because before I know it, Mach collapses over me. His chest heaves as I struggle to catch my breath beneath him. He owns me everywhere, and I don’t know how I’ll ever be the same.

Mach quickly reaches for the linen binding my wrists, and I fall to my side once I’m freed. He falls heavily to the bed before me, mirroring my position and a smile fills his face.

“You look a little green.”

My hand lifts to my heated face, pausing on the evident stage makeup. “Oh my God.”

Mach said earlier every man fantasizes about sleeping with Gamora. And it hits me. While I’d just had a profound, awe-inspiring moment of connectedness with him, he’s lived out a fantasy with a comic book character.

My heart shatters into a million pieces. He used his pelvic sorcery after all, and I fell for him.

I’m reminded once more everything between us is only fiction.

44

Playlist: “Too Good to Be True” – Faith Richards

[Mach]

I wake with a start. Before I’m even out of bed, a heaviness weighs around me. I attribute it to the loss of Jane. She isn’t beside me. Our bodies are not entangled, which has become the norm between us. The sheets are cold, which means she’s been absent a while.

Admittedly, I fell asleep before Jane returned to bed last night. After our amazing experience, she wanted a quick shower to wash off the face paint and clean other areas. Plus, she needed a new pillowcase. I was too tired to move and fell asleep with the scent of sex intoxicating me.