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“Get on all fours,” he commands. “And stick that fucking ass out for me.”
As I clamber to my hands and knees, I look over my shoulder and watch him rearing up, his body covered in a glistening layer of sweat, his hair glinting like it truly is made from silver.
“Like this?” I ask, pushing my hips back, aiming my ass at him.
His answer comes in the form of a snarl as he grabs his cock and kisses the tip against my hole, and then pushes inside of me, slamming harder than he has yet.
I whimper and collapse forward, gripping onto the sheets in big greedy handfuls, pushing back against him. My womb begs me to do it, to push and bounce, as his abs crash into my ass.
“Your ass is fucking… fucking dancing for me,” he snarls.
Twisting, I watch as he stares down at my ass.
His hands squeeze my ass as he pushes deeper and harder into me, the fleshy slap of our bodies only adding to the pleasure.
Suddenly my belly tightens, my pussy flutters. That pressure inside my core growing. It’s like it’s gathering up all the sensation inside of me, ready to explode.
“You’re close,” he growls.
“Yes,” I whimper.
“I can feel it. Good fucking girl. Squirt for me. Cream on my cock.”
Our bodies shift and thrust as one, as we sink into a rhythm. It’s like the beast inside him and the hunger inside me are controlling us now, as I push back against him, he slams into me, and everything becomes white hot like the inside of a freaking oven.
My legs tingle and my pussy feels so wet, so full of pent-up pressure.
And then it all releases in one giant rush, my legs trembling as my pussy pulses and squeezes down on his huge cock.
He drives deeper inside of me.
“Fuck, fuck,” he snarls. “You’re creaming. You’re fucking squirting for me pretty girl.”
I can’t say anything as he thrusts into me harder.
My knees give way and I collapse forward, the orgasm pulsing and shimmering, everything a hazy heavenly blur. I bite down on the sheets as he lays his body against mine, shifting his hips as he pounds me into the bed. The mattress whines and protests, but it seems so far away.
Everything apart from his cock, his body, seems far away.
I reach up and clasp onto his face, twisting to kiss him amidst the euphoric release. Our lips collide and then separate, the orgasm making it impossible to do anything but shiver and moan.
And then I hear his moans change like he’s close.
“Yes,” I scream, pushing through the haziness of the orgasm. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Yes… what?” he snarls in my ear, with as much effort as it takes for me to speak. “Say it, Rosie. Now, now.”
“Come in me,” I moan, pulsing my hips against him.
“In your young tight hole,” he snaps.
“Come in my young tight hole,” I pants, thrusting my hips. “Oh, come in my—”
He roars like a lion in the exact same moment another orgasm barrels into me, coming hot on the heels of the last one.
We writhe together as we reach our shared climax, Ryker’s breathing becoming frantic and then hollow as he struggles to draw in enough air. He collapses against me, laying his solid body against mine.
We stay like that for several minutes, as his cock wilts and I struggle to recover from the magic.
He rolls aside and pulls me into his arms, stroking his fingers through my hair softly, drawing patterns on my scalp that send teasing and welcome tingles all through my body.
“Was it… good for you?” I ask the first words we’ve spoken.
He chuckles, his chest rumbling as he leans down and kisses the top of my head. “Good? No. It was everything I’ve ever wanted. It was the first step of the rest of our lives. It was perfect. You’re perfect. So get that worry out of your head, Rosie.”
I close my eyes, clinging tightly to his words.
I wake before he does the next morning, leaning up on my elbow to look down at him as he sleeps. He’s on his back, a soft smile playing on his face, his eyelids fluttering lightly. I’ve never seen him look so peaceful, a stark contrast to last night when we fell on each other again, about thirty minutes after he took my virginity.
Climbing out of bed slowly, still feeling a little sore from last night, I walk across the room to collect my dress and my underwear from the floor.
How nice would it be to bring him breakfast in bed?
Sure, I could order room service, but the thought of bringing him something back myself makes me feel like his girlfriend, his life partner, like all those crazy wonderful things we said to each other are true. And they are true. I don’t have a shred of doubt anymore, not after the way our bodies melted into each other.
