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Falling over me, he started up a dry hump while chasing my lips, growling in frustration and securing a fist in my hair to keep me still, stealing the kiss he wanted. “I love you,” he said over and over between kisses and taking a second for air.
My body was a live wire, my mind unable to settle on one thought, my voice unable to spit out a coherent sentence. I bit his lip, sending him snarling away as I wheezed, the taste of copper filling my mouth. Perspiration beaded my skin, the heat from the fireplace bumping up against the flames bursting free from within.
“Did he suck your cock?” I needed this resolved before I handed myself over to him. Before I allowed him to take what he wanted from me.
“No,” he said. “We kissed. And I couldn’t go any further. I promise, angel.”
Angel.It had been too many years since he’d called me that, and I could no longer fight the urge to bend, to give him everything, all of me right then, to be his good fucking angel.
Cole traveled down my body, the loss of his cock on mine sent signals of confusion, relief, and grief scraping along my mind’s sensors. “Cole.” I didn’t know what I wanted to say, I lacked the time needed for reasoning. He was like an earthquake in the middle of a tsunami. Rattling and drowning me in his intensity at the same time.
My hands were useless and growing numb wrapped in the confines of my shirt. “Fuck!” I gritted out when he threw both my legs over his shoulders, then slid his palms beneath my ass and raised me to his opened mouth.
He ate me greedily, making lewd lapping sounds, praising the taste of me, shaking his head like a rabid dog as he buried his nose between my cheeks and inhaled like someone breaking the ocean’s surface after being held under for too long.
“Please,” I said, voice breaking on the word, unclear of what I wanted it to mean, the result I wanted it to garner, but my hips worked in a gesture that said I wanted more, or don’t stop.
“You taste like heaven,” he whispered, his words spoken directly into my asshole. “Christ, I’ve missed this.” He spread my globes, opening my split a fraction more, then sent his tongue in. I keened loudly. He flicked his rapacious eyes to mine as the tip of his tongue fought to go deeper.
Cole ate until his heart was content and his cock could no longer wait to be inside me. He straightened, lowering me slowly as I fought to breathe.
Precum mingled with the sweat running in rivulets down my chest. My cock ached to be touched, my hole needed to be filled. “Cole,” I whimpered, swallowing around a parched throat. “Please.”
He made a show of lowering his zipper, rising to his knees and dropping his pants below the curve of his ass before sitting back on his calves again. “You remember our safeword, right?” he asked. My knees fell to either side of me, and I watched raptured as he pinched the purple crown of his dick, a bead of precum spitting from its slit to tremble down the veiny surface of it, thinning and fading the further it traveled the long distance to his nut sac. I nodded once because saying the word might have activated it.
“Say it. I need you to say it,” he said.
“Yes,” I gritted out.
“Yes,” he repeated.Yes.That was our safeword, because we both loved it when he ignored myno’s.
Cole helped me onto his lap, still not willing to free my hands, our cocks grazing each other as he searched my face, his hand running through my hair. “Look at me,” he whispered, and I released a shuddering breath before doing so. His thumb brushed away the moisture at the corner of my eyes, his gaze soft, his voice was anything but. “This won’t be easy, and I plan to take you all night.”
I beat back the whine of fear clambering up my throat. It wasn’t fear of him, but fear of what would happen once we were through. Fear of my guilt being compounded. Fear that it wouldn’t matter enough to stop me, to stopthisfrom happening again.Fear that he’d want me to choose him once it was over. Fear because I didn’t know if I could. Or that I wouldn’t, even if I wanted to.
The click of a bottle’s lid sounded, and then our joint moans rose louder than the music playing as he cupped our cocks between a slicked hand and stroked with the sole purpose of getting us ready.
I mourned the loss of his hand when he let go, but then a wet digit skirted down my cleft before sinking into my hole. I gasped and clenched at the intrusion.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, angel.” His hand holding me up by my hair spasmed. “I can barely get it in,” he said, working his finger in slowly. “How long has it been?” He tugged my hair when my lips thinned defiantly. “How long.”
“Weeks,” I said as the pain in my scalp and the fullness in my ass formed a potent shot of pleasure throughout my body.
“What kind of man leaves you unsatisfied for weeks?” he growled, sending another finger in. My chin dropped to my chest, my forehead meeting his lips. He worked me open for longer than needed, occasionally fanning a hand over my cock, the touch so light and teasing it left me feeling faint.
Cole liked it when I whimpered, when I cried for an end to his torture, when I begged for him to start, or to stop. And I loved it when he apologized for being unable to, because it meant I was special. It meant I had something he couldn’t resist.
“It’s out of my hands, angel,”he’d say, as he fucked me into the bed, or the ground, or the wall.“This is what you do to me.”
No amount of begging or bargaining or promises would get me what I didn’t really want in the first place. He wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t ease up on the gas. Wouldn’t apply the brakes until I lay in a heap so well fucked I was broken in two.
It was as if I wasn’t even there. As if I didn’t have a voice, or a say. It was like it used to be during times like this. For him it was needing a feeling of complete possession, a feeling of “this is mine.” Of fulfilling whatever fantasies he’d dreamt up since the last time he’d had me.Takenme. And it felt good to be needed that much. To see him lose his mind with wanting me, wantinginme. To give him the freedom to let go. Nothing could penetrate our orb when we were like that. We had no concept of the outside world, of boundaries, or walls. We were all sensation. All pleasure. All his and all mine.
With his pants still halfway down his thighs, his hands on my hips, and my feet planted on the carpet, he held the full weight of my body up, his dick poised at my center. “Is this what you want?” he asked, biceps bunching.
I could’ve said yes. I could’ve made this train stop. But it would’ve been a lie. “No,” I said, so close my lips caressed his.
“Thank, God,” he wept, lowering me onto his dick.
