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Zach snaps his head up. “Stop.”
“W-what?”
“It’ll hurt more if you move,” he says with clenched teeth and a somewhat agonized expression.
I palm his sweaty shoulder, breathing in hiccups. “It doesn’t.”
“What?”
I move under him again, rock against his pelvis, and I swear I feel his dick jump inside of me. “It doesn’t hurt.”
Zach’s astonished and I could’ve laughed. But in this moment, I’m so restless.
Maybe the universe knew that our bodies were made for each other. So the nature took away all the pain. But I can’t explain that to him right now. I’m too needy.
All I can say is: “Please, f-fuck me, Zach.”
He watches me struggle under him, trying to get him to move, trying to rub my hypersensitive clit against his pelvis but he doesn’t come to help me. He doesn’t rescue me and I claw my nails along his biceps, his side, his back.
“Please, Zach,” I beg again.
And then, he gives a grind of his hips. “This what you want, Blue?”
I nod, sighing in relief. But it isn’t even complete, that sigh. His movements drive the need higher. The craving doesn’t end.
I know it won’t. Not until I come, and he comes with me. Inside of me.
I’m dying to feel that. That splash, that splatter of his cum that I’ve tasted so many times before. My favorite flavor of popsicle.
Zach begins to move. His strokes are slow but long. He goes out completely, leaving me empty, before coming back in.
I moan out his name and his strokes become jabs. Short and thrusting and faster. I squeeze my thighs around his waist, biting my lip.
“I thought you were lying,” Zach pants from over me, his eyes trained on my face.
“About what?” I gasp as I start to push back into his thrusts.
“I thought you wanted my dick so bad that you were lying about the pain.”
“I do want it…”
His pumps are harder now and my channel is slicker. I can’t believe that we haven’t been doing it all this time. How will I ever go back to the land of living when he’s killing me so beautifully with his cock?
“I thought your pussy made you a liar, Blue,” he rasps, sliding his lips over me; my tongue peeks out to taste him. “But I guess she only made you a horny little slut for me.”
My stomach clenches at that word and an uh comes out of me. As if in agreement.
It’s true, isn’t it?
I am a slut for him. I am horny for him. I’ve been horny for him for ages. For centuries, even.
“You are, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, you are. I’m an animal for you too, baby.”
Shameless, I arch under him, feeling his pounds all the way to my teeth, and all the way down to my toes.
