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But then she realized that wasn’t at all what he had in mind. He slid his hand down between her legs and rubbed her pleasure nub. With his other hand, he pinched her nipples, moving his fingers back and forth from one to the other. Each time the sensation became too intense, each time her nipple became too sensitive and tightly engorged, when it was just on the brink of painful in its pleasure—he instinctively knew and would immediately move to the other one and begin the Festival of Sensations all over again, building up to that breaking point of pleasure and then moving back. He was a master.
Finally, he lifted her leg and draped it over his own thigh. Then she felt the pressure of his head at her opening. With gentle strength he slowly eased into her while still intimately massaging the hood of her sex. Within a few pumps he found a steady rhythm that had her climbing towards release, he slid his hand back up to her nipples so that he could still caress both of her erogenous zones as he made love to her ever so slowly, ever so gently.
“God, baby,” he choked out, the words taking on an extra intensity because his mouth was right next to her ear. “You’re always tight, but in this position, you’re even tighter. It’s insane. I can feel your body pulsing, milking me.”
Even though his movements as he thrust into her were slower and more deliberate than they had been in any other position, it was somehow more intense. Maybe it was because the pace made her pay attention to every tiny nuance of sensation, or maybe it was because, as he had pointed out, she was so much tighter in that position. But, either way, every movement of him inside her, every tiny friction of his throbbing member against her inner walls, felt like a starburst of sensation spreading out from her core to all the cells in her body.
She felt her orgasm building to the point of no return. It was a more intense sensation than she had felt before. Her brain tingled, knowing that this time was going to be different. It was familiar enough that she could recognize exactly what it was, but it was also entirely new in a way that she couldn’t quite describe.
“Don’t stop,” she whimpered. “I’m gonna come…oh, please don’t…I’m going to…so hard…don’t….”
She knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t help it. The ecstasy had driven her almost completely out of her mind.
“Come. Now,” he commanded roughly.
So…she did, his words putting her right over the edge. She slammed her face into the comforter. Her hands flew up and she grabbed the pillow, the comforter anything that her fists could grasp. Anything to hold onto to keep her anchored, because she felt like she was spinning right out, flying into outer space.
He continued whispering in her ear, “That’s right, baby. Come for me. That’s good.”
She heard his voice in her ear, but she couldn’t even process the words. She’d remember them later and translate them with her non-orgasming brain. Right now, all there was was a primal, visceral sensation.
He grunted as his body tensed and he drove into her deeper than he ever had before.
“Yes!” she cried out. It was the only word that her brain could form as they shook and shuttered and crested the peak together.
She lost all sense of time, of places, of anything else in her life. Everything that was going on, everything that she was—her singing career, leaked songs, phony pictures, her fake ex-boyfriend, her family, Dax’s family—everything flew out the window as their orgasms crashed through them together. All that was left was her body and Dax’s body, his arms around her holding her close—that’s all that existed. And that was fine, because that was all that she wanted.
After their orgasms quieted, they both collapsed onto the bed, in that same position, snuggled together, their hearts beating in one rhythm. She settled her head back against Dax’s shoulder. He buried his face in her wet hair. He was still inside her, and she loved it. It felt sweet, and it felt right, somehow. She was glad he hadn’t pulled out. She wasn’t ready yet to feel him leave her.
She was completely spent, completely entranced by what they had just experienced together. When she’d woke up earlier to find Dax wasn’t beside her, she got a glimpse of what it would be like when she returned home next week and the empty feeling had sent her into the bathroom, to try to erase it. She wanted to float away in what they’d just had and not think about the fact that she was scheduled to go home in a few days or that she was going to be calling her grandfather later today, or the fact that her songs had leaked, or any of the real life issues she knew she was going to be facing. She just wanted to stay in this fantasy bubble for as long as she could. And yet, as hard as she tried there was one small, niggling question that was in the back of her mind, something that she didn’t quite know how to ask—but also couldn’t seem to get out of her head.
But, because it was Dax, she felt completely safe doing anything and saying anything. So, she decided that the best course of action would be to just ask.
“Dax,” she whispered.
“Yes, baby?” he answered.
“Is it always like this?” She asked, her voice trembling and a little vulnerable. “I mean, I’m feeling like this is some special, magical thing we’ve got going—like it’s universe shaking—but is it just…you know…regular old sex? Is it like this every time?”
He laughed and she rushed to explain. “I know, that was probably a stupid question—”
“No, no,” he assured her. “I wasn’t laughing because it was a stupid question. I was laughing at the idea that ‘regular old sex’ could ever be like what we have together. No, baby. No. To answer your question—it’s nothing like this.
“I mean, it can be good. Don’t get me wrong. Sex is fun and it feels good. But this is different. What we have is…it’s different. I’ve never been with someone that I’ve felt the things I feel with you. It’s…magic.”
She smiled and snuggled her head back down onto his shoulder as a yawn claimed her. “I thought so,” she said as her mind cleared and she drifted off into a satisfied sleep.
