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She attempted to do as he asked, trying to decide if she liked his actions or not. It hurt, but not unbearably, and she had to admit there was some part of her that was deeply turned on by his wicked touch. Determined to learn all she could, she relaxed until he had both fingers buried completely within her.
“Christ, you’re tight,” he said, starting to thrust his fingers in the rhythm she’d come to love.
Arching back against him, she followed his movements, the pain decreasing as the pleasure grew.
“Ross,” she cried as the stimulation became too much, “more, please.”
Rather than giving her more, however, his fingers left her completely. She started to protest.
“Wait,” he murmured, his lips grazing her ear, his tongue darting out to tease her earlobe.
Suddenly she felt something hard pressing into her. She started to pull away, but Ross’s strong arm across her shoulders held her firmly in place. She felt him put the tip of the tube of lubrication to her anus as more of the sticky gel permeated her tight hole. Then he began to press the plug into her. A butt plug, she thought, recalling the toy he’d pulled out of the backpack earlier.
She’d read about them, but she never imagined in her wildest fantasies that Ross would ever want to put one inside her. She understood the implication. The plug would gradually loosen the muscles of her anus and it would make it easier for Ross to fuck her there. He wanted to fuck her ass. The thought should frighten her, but instead she struggled to take the plug. She wanted him there.
God, she wanted him anywhere she could get him.
What kind of wanton woman had she become?
What was he doing to her?
“Almost there,” he whispered, gently guiding the plug until she was filled completely. Once he finished, he soothingly massaged her buttocks again.
“Lie back down,” he said, pushing her lightly on the bed. She struggled to accommodate the large plug inside her, feeling more than a little uncomfortable.
Once he had her tucked back up against him, he asked, “Are you okay?” with such concern, Jules felt her heart swell.
“I’m fine,” she whispered hoarsely. “Ross,” she started to say, words failing her.
“What, Brown Eyes?” He kissed the top of her head.
“Do men like that? I mean—being with women that way?” She was suddenly very afraid Ross would think less of her for allowing him to do such an unspeakable thing to her.
He tipped her face up to his with his finger on her chin. “I can’t speak for all men, but I want you every way a man can have a woman, Jules. It may seem primitive or uncivilized, but I don’t think I’ll be able to rest until I’ve possessed every part of you—your mouth, your pussy, your ass, all of you. You’ve lit a fire in my soul and it will consume me if I don’t quench it. Does that make any sense?” His eyes filled with apprehension.
“Yes,” she whispered, lightly kissing his lips. “I feel exactly the same way.”
He smiled, returning her light kiss. “Can you sleep? With it inside you?”
She nodded shyly. “Yes.”
“Good,” he replied lightly, the real Ross reappearing, “because I don’t think I can wait much longer to have you there. I don’t want to hurt you and this will help. Have I told you lately how incredible you are?”
“Not in the last couple of hours,” she teased.
“You’re incredible,” he said, so seriously she was stunned for a moment. “Go to sleep. Busy day tomorrow. Research, research, research.”
The morning sun temporarily blinded Julia as she attempted to open her eyes. She knew before she did so that she was alone in the bed. She started to sit up, forgetting about the large plug still buried deep inside her.
“Oh,” she cried.
Her distress brought Ross running from the bathroom, a towel wrapped low on his hips, half his face covered in shaving cream.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, too humiliated to actually say the words.
“I heard you cry out. Are you hurt?”
