Page 205 of Taming the Beast


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“Fuck,” he groaned, as he reached for my breasts with both hands and squeezed them gently. My hands stilled on his stomach, because with every squeeze of my breasts my core ached again, and it felt so fucking good that I could barely breathe. I batted his hands away and unzipped his jeans. I gripped the waistband of his jeans and pulled them down along with his briefs, being careful to go gently so as not to hurt him. I pulled the jeans down to his feet while he kicked his running shoes off, and I stripped him the rest of the way.

I was at his feet while he lay on his back with his hands at his sides. I looked up his body and a wave of wetness spread between my legs at how gorgeous he was. For me, he was perfect, just strong enough to make me feel feminine next to him. I ran my eyes down his washboard stomach, and saw that the only hair on his torso was a small happy trail leading down to a big, swollen dick, ready and waiting for me. I swung one leg over him and straddled him on his thighs. He reached up and tried to pull me down to him but I said, “No,” and pushed his hands down to the mattress on either side of him.

I leaned down and kissed the inside of his thigh and he inhaled sharply. He said, “Rose,” in a guttural voice, while I massaged him. He reached for me again.

“No, let me,” I said, as I pushed him down on his back again and moved up a little further. I took his dick in my hands and massaged the length of his shaft with both hands in a twisting motion.

“Jesus Christ” he said, as I licked the tip slowly, then very deliberately pushed my mouth down as much of his length as I could without stopping. He was very big and my mouth was spread wide, but even so when he hit the back of my throat he still wasn’t all the way in. By then he had put a hand into my hair, gently holding my head, not moving me at all as I slowly dragged my mouth up to the tip and then back down so that he hit the back of my throat, over and over again. He groaned, grabbed me and turned me over on the bed and dragged my thong down my legs before he lay full on top of me.

We both caught our breath at this first touch of skin from head to toe. I didn’t think I had ever felt anything so good, until he rubbed up and down a few inches and the friction made my nipples hard. He kissed and licked my neck and collarbone, and I pushed my hands between us to pinch my nipples. He pulled back an inch and looked down.

“What are you doing?”

“I need, I need…” I said, almost incoherent.

He took my nipples into his fingers and pinched them, and I moaned so loud it was practically a scream. He cupped m

y breasts and squeezed, and my hips came off the bed, bringing him with me. He hissed and squeezed again.

“As hard as you can,” I managed to say, and he squeezed my breasts to the point of pain. I came again, and he kissed me.

“I want you, Rose,” as he reached over to the nightstand at the side of the bed. He kept kissing me as he moved his hips slightly to the side and put a condom on. Then he was back as he spread my legs with his hands. I was so wet and ready I thought I might pass out from the orgasm I knew was coming. His tongue was in my mouth as he used one hand to guide his tip to my entrance. He put both hands under my head and kissed me as he slid all the way in without stopping, until he bottomed out. We both moaned and stopped kissing but didn’t move our mouths away from each other. Him filling me up so completely, while his breath was my breath, and his body weight was pushing me down into the bed, was indescribable. I had never been so connected to someone during sex, and I decided that I was too grateful for the pleasure to worry about whether I should worry about it.

I still tried to adjust to this amazing feeling when he said into my mouth, “Rose, please say my name,” in a hoarse whisper. His heart beat against my chest, and I couldn’t, wouldn’t think about anything else but this moment, so I said, “Jeremy,” into his mouth. His heart started to beat even faster as he kissed me again, lush, sexual kisses that I knew would leave their mark on me.

He pulled out halfway and talking wasn’t possible anymore, as he pushed back in and I lifted my legs to wrap them around his waist. He pushed me even further into the bed with his weight, as he started to thrust in and out in a steady rhythm that ensured I would come within two minutes. When I did, he sped up as my muscles squeezed him, and he reached down and placed a hand behind one of my thighs and pushed down, opening me even further for his thrusts.

I ran my hands over his back and down to his ass and finally I grabbed his hair in what was probably a painful grasp, and held on as he pumped over and over, harder and harder into me. The sound and smell of sex surrounded us, and turned me on even more. I wanted him to come inside me, I wanted him to feel the pleasure he had already given me three times. I thrust up to meet his downward motion and our bodies slammed together in what could never be considered romantic. This was instinctual, and on the verge of violent as we each reached for the pinnacle.

The pleasure I felt became the combination of pleasure and pain that always precedes an amazing orgasm, and I knew he felt it too, because we could no longer kiss. He put his face next to mine; our cheeks touched as he gripped my hair, and one, two, three bone jarring thrusts later I fell over the cliff as he yelled while embedded fully inside me.

He collapsed on top of me and I moved my legs down off his back, while we both practically hyperventilated. I came down from a high of such pure bliss that I surely had never experienced before. I didn’t want him to move and he didn’t seem inclined to do so, so we lay that way for a while, his hand on the back of my head, his face next to mine, as his body completely covered me.

I moved my hands from his head to around his back and gently held him. He moved his hand down from my hair to softly rub the back of my neck, while his other hand cupped my shoulder from behind. I realized that we were in an embrace, and that niggling romantic notion started to bug me again, but I firmly closed the door on it. For some reason I didn’t want this to end, even though I knew it had to soon. And the simple fact that I didn’t want it to end made me start to think about how to get out of there quickly.

You can’t have this in your life. He’d never want you if he knew what you really are.

He lifted his head and looked in my eyes and the moment felt so intimate that I started to wiggle out from under him. He held me in place and whispered, “It’s okay.” He kissed me so sweetly and gently that tears gathered in my eyes for the second time that night.

This had been so wonderful, more than I had ever thought was possible for me, and I knew it would never happen again. Even if he wanted it to, which I doubted, I couldn’t let it happen again because what had started out as no strings attached sex had turned into something that might possibly have touched my cracked heart, and that scared the shit out of me. Even so, I let him kiss me one more time.

“I have to go,” I said.

He looked into my eyes again, hesitated like he wanted to say something, but then he gently pulled out of me and moved to lie next to me. Suddenly I felt alone and cold, feelings I was familiar with, so I got up and gathered my bra and panties from the floor while he watched me put them on. I finger-combed my hair and then stood awkwardly in the room, hating the part to come. This part seemed really awful this time, when usually I felt nothing at all about leaving a man after sex.

“Um, I’m going to leave.” The rest of my clothes were in the foyer, and it was so excruciatingly awkward that I couldn’t look at him.

“Okay,” he said, as he got up off the bed, deposited the condom in the trash can and put his briefs on.

I walked out of the bedroom while he followed me down the hallway. He silently watched me, which added to my anxiety as I collected my clothes from the floor. Finally, I was dressed and I picked up my briefcase, ready to flee.

“Can I walk you home?” he said quietly, looking at me with something I thought was pity, and I felt panic set in. I needed to leave before this got any worse.

“Um, no, that’s okay, I live just down the street actually, over on Harbor Drive…”

“It’s late, I’d like to walk you.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m good,” I said, as he put one hand on the same wall that earlier he had held me up against.

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