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“I care,” he declared, then dropped a kiss to one of my breasts, then the other. “I care a lot.”
Sweat beaded along his brow as he added a second finger to the first, and I exhaled a soft moan.
“You’re so hot, Frankie. Hot and wet. So soft. I can’t wait to feel you on my cock…”
There he went again with that illegal mouth of his.
“There are so many ways I want to fuck you,” he continued and added a third finger. A light burn spread through my pussy as he stretched me. I dug my nails into his biceps, as he pinned me in place with his gaze. “I want to feel you come on my cock. I want to feel that wild fluttering you were doing as you squeeze me. I want to roll you over and fuck you from behind. I want to pin you down and eat you out until you can’t walk.”
Another thrust of his fingers and the burn turned into something more as I groaned. That hot spiraling tension had begun to coil again.
“I want you to ride me,” he continued, a devilish grin on his face. “I want to see your tits bounce as you take me.” Kissing me once, he slid his fingers out and lifted them to his lips. He licked one clean and then held the other two down to me. “Taste.”
I opened my lips, and he slid them inside. I sucked the juices off them as his eyes darkened and a half-uttered, “fuck,” escaped. As I swirled my tongue around his fingers, he groaned. “I want to feel your mouth on me, and I want to come between those puffy, swollen lips.”
The image sent another pulse through me. Could a person orgasm from dirty talk alone? Archie tugged his fingers free then he moved sitting up to adjust my hips, he gripped his cock and began to run it against my labia, his expression strained.
On my elbows, I leaned up to watch. Heat flashed over me. Not in embarrassment or shyness but wanting. “Archie…” Every stroke had him bumping against my clit but he kept going, slicking himself up until the condom was shiny as he flexed his fist around himself.
Then his hot gaze met mine. “Yes?”
Oh… I melted. Even after all that, even when I was half-crazy for it, he was thinking. “Yes,” I told him. He angled himself and began to press inside of me. Fuck, this was so much more than the burn of his fingers. The head pressed deeper and he shifted, catching my hands in his as our fingers threaded together.
Inch-by-inch, he eased forward, the strain popping a vein on the side of his neck as he gritted his teeth. “So hot… so fucking hot…”
The burn of stretching around him increased and then he shifted forward and sank into me. The pain was there, sharp, and bright and I couldn’t breathe as he pushed the oxygen from lungs. Too much, so big. So full.
One drugging kiss after another brought me back down as we lay there. I dug my fingernails into the backs of his hands, but he didn’t let go and then the burn eased. My sigh between kisses had him lifting his head. “Talk to me.”
Was he serious?
“C’mon, Frankie, open those eyes.”
Had they closed?
I pried them open and a tear slipped down my cheek. He caught the drop with his lips, then kissed the corners of my eyes. “Still hurt?”
I shook my head.
“Talk to me, use your words.”
“Why?” I groaned. I was so full, impaled on his cock and desperate for him to do something.
“I have to know you’re okay. I want to fuck you so badly right now. When I start moving, I’m going to fuck you right through this mattress, so I have to know.”
“I’m fine,” I almost yelled. God, couldn’t he feel it? Everything was so tight and unbearable and stretched. “Move. Please?”
“Oh yeah.”
He eased back and then thrust in again. The look of wonder on his face stunned me. When he spread his knees, the soft hairs on his legs rubbed against my inner thighs and he kissed me as he filled me again. Hot and heavy, he filled me up.
“Frankie,” he said, strained with hints of delight. Whenever he pulled out it was a loss and when he thrust in, I arched my back and clenched around him, there.Just stay right there.
The drag and pull rocked me. He kept my hands pinned as he resumed one bruising kiss after another. His hips pumped, and I lifted my legs to wrap them around his hips. The shift in the angle had him pushing deeper and sparks scraped through me with every pound of his cock. I think I screamed as the earlier tension stretched tight and I fought to match his rhythm.
He found the perfect pace. Every push—there just weren’t words for it. I lost myself in the slide of sweat and skin. The noises he made as he kissed me. The noisesImade. The spiraling tautness shrank tighter and tighter. Trapped, pinned, and jolted by his every thrust, I held on desperately. There was a blank, physical delight in him fucking me. He’d promised we’d burn through the mattress, and I held on as he made good on his word.
The thrusts grew faster, deeper, and bliss exploded through my system as his hips stuttered. I squeezed tight and the feel of him pulsing shot through me even as he broke the kiss and let out a shout.
