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His shoulders are so huge, like two mountain ranges covered with ink.
“Oh—oh shit.”
Dex draws each shudder from me without mercy; makes me wail and buck in the squashy armchair. I come so hard my ears ring, so hard that my vision flashes white for a second, but he gives me no time to recover.
I’m yanked upright, jelly legs and all, and bent over the armchair, my hair twined around a big fist.
“Is this what you want, baby?” Dex grits out the words as his belt clinks behind me. “Like this? Rough and dirty?” The broad head of his cock notches against my entrance, but he waits for me, vibrating with the effort of restraint, and there’s something in his voice that I don’t like. Veiled dismay.
I reach back and pat his thigh. His muscle is rock hard beneath the denim. “This time,” I clarify, because there’s no room for misunderstandings here. “I want it like that this time. But not every time, okay, Dex? Sometimes I’ll want you sweet and slow.”
And even though I can’t see him, I can feel the tension drain from the room. Because I get it, you know? Dex doesn’t want to be a novelty lay for me, someone to check a bucket list with then toss aside, and I don’t want him to tiptoe and be careful.
We’re both worrying over nothing. It’s fine. This is it for us.
The rest is detail.
The first thrust of his cock inside me makes my breath catch and my pulse pound. It’s so big and hard, and the intrusion is… it doesn’t feel bad exactly, but it’s kinda weird.
Dex grunts and pushes forward another inch. He fucks into me with shallow thrusts, going carefully despite my goading him, and I’m glad for that. There’s a lot to get used to here.
My hands scrabble against the faded fabric of the armchair, and my vision is hazy, and all I can focus on is the ticklish slide of his body against mine.
That friction.
The stretch of him.
I…
It’s…
“Doing okay, baby?” A heavy palm rubs circles on my lower back, and I about melt into the floor. Yes, I’m doing okay. Better than okay.
“So good,” I whisper.
There’s a relieved puff of breath, and the grip tightens in my hair, and then we’re away. Bodies rocking together, gently at first, then getting harder and harder until my ass jiggles and my tits bounce with each thrust. I slide my feet further apart; I’m rewarded with a dark grunt and a rough hand palming my ass cheek.
“You should see my view right now, London.” Dex’s forcing the words between his teeth. “You look so good taking my cock. Sucking me deeper. It’s a perfect fit. You were made for me, baby girl.”
I open my mouth to tell him that yeah, I would like to see that actually, and he should take a picture, but apparently I lost the ability to speak several thrusts ago.
Doesn’t matter. There’ll be plenty of time for Dex and I to build up our own private library of photos that the press will never get their hands on. Just me and my dirty rocker.
“Does that feel good?”
I nod frantically, teeth clacking together, and when Dex draws me up by the hair, when he arches my back and slams into me even harder, even muscle in my body draws tight.
My toes curl.
My breath seizes.
So good. So freaking good.
And I don’t know what I expected. I mean, I figured sex must be fun, else people wouldn’t get in such messes over it, but I didn’t realize it could feel like being reborn; like burning down my old self in a raging fire, then stepping from the ashes all shiny and new.
Didn’t realize I’d feel both our hearts beating in time, pulsing and glowing in our chests like two hot coals.
He grunts between his teeth. Cracks a palm against my ass, heat spreading under the skin, then grips me hard enough to bruise.
