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“You’re going to come for me no matter what.”
No matter what? Like I have no choice?
But my desire is headed toward that boiling point. Again. He works my clit like he owns it. And I let him. Because I don’t want to deny my body just to make a show of my free will.
“That’s it,” he says, flexing his cock inside me.
His other hand is still on my hip, and he rocks me over his pelvis. I come undone. If he weren’t holding on to me, I’d probably spasm right off him. My body strains against his continued fondling of my clit till he finally backs off. I collapse onto his chest, stunned that I was able to come again.
Before I can fully bask in the afterglow, he flips me off and onto my stomach, pulls my dress up and penetrates me from behind. This time, he thrusts harder, but somehow I can take it better from this position.
His erection stimulates a new part of me, and after a while, the prospect of a fifth climax greets me.
He varies his movements between gentle bucking and hard slamming, sometimes pulling himself all the way out. I whine at the emptiness till he shoves himself back in with enough force to make my teeth chatter. I’m desperate enough by now not to mind, though I do try to angle myself to soften the blows a little. There’s not much I can do, however, but lie there, my fingers entangled with the bed linen, and submit to his fucking.
He slows enough for me to fix on my impending orgasm. His motions feel so incredible. A few strokes at just the right angle, and shudders rack my body.
This climax is the most amazing so far. My whole body is drowning in it. Even my screams are lost in the wave of ecstasy until the peak passes, and I realize how hard Darren is pounding me. His roar joins my cries as he reaches his finish. After several forceful pumps, he withdraws and falls onto the bed beside me.
The area between my thighs still pulses, sending ripples down my legs. Eyes closed, I lay quietly and listen to the sound of his breathing return to normal. My mind is devoid of thought, and before I know it, I’ve drifted off to sleep.
* * *
When I wake,early morning light streams through the window. I’m definitely not in my own bed because my bedcover and sheets don’t feel nearly this soft. Realizing I’m still at Darren’s place, I sit up. I can’t believe I’ve slept the whole night here. I was expecting to get sent home after we were done with the sex.
“Sorry, I forgot to shut the blinds,” Darren says.
Turning, I find him sitting in the seating area in front of the window. He wears only pajama pants, and I drink in his upper body: the muscles of his arms, the chiseled chest, the six-pack. Unconsciously, I lick my lips.
“Breakfast?” he asks.
On the table beside him is a tray with a glass of juice, an individual French press, toast, and…boiled eggs?
Peeling back the bed covers, I slide out of bed and take the lounge chair opposite him. “Did you make all this?”
“I’m not completely inept.” He pours the coffee into a cup.
I take the cup and add cream and a little sugar. “Thanks.”
“I wasn’t sure what kind of coffee you liked, so I picked a medium roast.”
“Honestly, I don’t know the difference between the different types of coffee. Most times, we just have instant coffee in our apartment.”
I take a sip. So this is what really good coffee tastes like.
“You make the eggs, too?” I ask.
“Per your instructions.”
I set down the coffee and reach for one of the egg cups. I tap the shell with the butter knife to crack it, cut off the top and marvel that the egg yolk is a perfect bright yellow, not even a hint of ring around it.
“I learn quick,” Darren supplies.
“Yeah,” I second. “I’m impressed. You gonna have any breakfast?”
“I already ate.”
I like the way he looks in the morning, his hair a little tossed instead of perfectly gelled back.
