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Or maybe we’re both being absolved.
Another orgasm is building inside me, and I really think this one might kill me. My body is already so worn out, so beaten up by pleasure, that I don’t know if I can survive another onslaught.
Trent is close again too, I can feel it in the way his breath changes and the way his strokes grow more uneven and staccato.
But before he tips over the edge, he stops.
Then he pulls out of me entirely and flips me over onto my back, settling between my legs immediately. He drapes himself over my body, sliding into me again, and my legs wrap around him without thought, bringing him even closer, pinning him to my body.
“I have to see you. I have to see your face,” he murmurs, and the emotion burning in his gray-blue eyes is so intense that I want to look away. But I can’t.
We stare at each other, falling into each other, as he resumes thrusting. But this time, the strokes aren’t violent or desperate. They’re smooth and even, and our bodies rock together as if we’re one.
“You’re beautiful, Ems,” he whispers. “I wasn’t lying. You’re perfect.”
Inexplicable tears burn my eyes, and I blink them away. I wish I could rip my gaze from his, because I feel too vulnerable and exposed like this. Like he’ll see too much. Learn too much.
He’ll realize the truth.
But Trent doesn’t let me look away or hide my face. He watches me intently, his gaze scanning every inch of my expression, as if he thinks I might be lying, as if he’s trying to spot the part of me that’s faking this.
But it doesn’t exist.
No part of this is fake.
No matter what this started out as, this moment is wholly real.
Maybe he realizes that at the same time I do, because he lets out a groan, thrusting a little harder as desperation and desire finally overcome the last of his restraint.
“I’m gonna come inside you, Emma,” he murmurs roughly. “I’m gonna fill you up.”
I nod, wrapping my arms around him as my breath starts to come faster. Then he drops his head to kiss me as he begins to thrust hard and deep, seeming to hit a new spot inside me every time. His lips and tongue slide against mine, devouring me, consuming me.
And I come. Again.
I clench so hard around him that it’s like my body is trying to keep him, to bind us together forever, and at the feel of my walls rippling around him, Trent comes too.
He chokes out a low noise, slamming into me once more as his cock jerks and pulses, bathing my insides with his hot cum.
When we finally start to come down from the height of pleasure, he pulls out of me, collapsing to the bed beside me and gathering me roughly into his arms.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “I’m dead.”
I blink, awareness of what just happened flooding through me as if I just woke up from a dream to discover it was all real.
What the hell did we just do?
16
Emma
Holy shit. That wasn’t what I planned.
At all.
As I lie in Trent’s arms, I feel boneless, incredibly exhausted, and oddly content. I was only supposed to tease him, get him to take his clothes off, and then use the footage to humiliate him. And, I mean, I did do that. The camera didn’t pick up any of what happened against the door or on the bed, but when I made him jerk off in front of me, it was in perfect view of the laptop.
I didn’t expect to be so turned on by watching him do that. It was hot as fuck, pornographic and raw and… real. The way he watched me the whole time. The look in his eyes.
