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“Ugh,” I grabbed my hair at the roots. My legs trembled with need. It was painful. Empty. Aching.
“Do you want to cum, Laurel?”
“Please,” I begged.
“Do you want my dick buried deep inside of you? Will you cum for me then?”
I started to sit up, to attack him, but Lachlan pinned me down with a firm hand on my belly. I groaned. “Yes, anything.” My body still hovered right on the brink of release. Any pressure would set me off. I felt like an unstable landmine.
Lachlan slid a hand up and down the side of my pussy, never touching what I wanted him to touch. “I need you to promise me, Laurel. Promise me that you won’t cum until I tell you to.”
“I won’t,” I promised—begged.
“Sit up.”
I did, pitching forward fluidly so I perched on the edge of the ottoman with my legs still spread and Lachlan kneeling on the ground in front of me. He stood, the bulge of his erection fighting against the strain of his tight, black briefs. “Touch yourself, but don’t you dare cum, Laurel,” he said with a warning look.
Huffing, shaking, I reached trembling fingers to my pussy to dip my fingers into my own juices and then rub along the edges of my clit. My toes pointed against the cold, hardwood floor. My muscles screamed for release.
I vaguely sensed Lachlan kneel on the couch behind me while my fingers toyed my nerves right back to the edge of orgasm.
“Turn around, Laurel.”
I pressed my legs together and rolled to my knees on the ottoman. Lachlan lay on the couch, his head on the arm and his cock pulled through the slit of his briefs. He had a condom on, and he rubbed the length of his erection with slow, steady strokes. “You’re in control,” he said, his eyes burning into me with their intensity.
I crawled across the ottoman on all fours until I reached him. Hungrily, I watched the long, wide pulse of his cock. I would do anything to sink myself onto him.
His hands reached out, and he grasped my hips as I hooked a leg over him. Slowly, he lowered me onto his hard erection.
I threw my head back in euphoria as I pulled him into me all the way to the hilt.
“Let go,” he said, his voice hard.
I started to let out little gasps as I rose and fell on top of him, feeling every scrape of his head against the inner nub of pleasure that drove me wild. I picked up the pace, and my fingers wandered to my clit with desperate need.
“Hands above your head,” he ordered. I groaned in frustration. “You said you trust me,” he reminded me.
I looked at him, saw the pure, rising heat in his gaze, and realized he was just as close as I was. And I did trust him. I lifted my hands above my head, grasping each wrist with my hands, and rode him with a steady rhythm.
My toes started to point. I closed my eyes again, imagining that climb, and with a dim spark of shock, realized I was just as close as I had been with his hands and mouth.
“That’s it,” he encouraged.
I gasped and moaned, feeling pressure so intense, it terrified me. It built and built, like someone slowly pressing a button that would detonate every nerve of pressure at my center.
He grabbed my hips again, and with a punishing push, slammed hard against me, putting pressure on my clit with his pelvis. “Cum for me, Laurel.”
Lachlan had the magic words. My body obeyed and exploded with pulsing, clenching shrapnel of pure ecstasy. I bucked forward, and my hands fell to brace themselves against the firm muscle of his chest.
He grunted, holding my hips in a tight grip, and I felt the tremble of his release beneath me. I let my head fall to his chest, panting. Sweat slid down the valley of my back. His arms came up around me, and with soothing motions, he massaged the muscles up and down my back. “God, you’re perfect,” he panted.
Yoga had nothing on sex with Lachlan. I felt like I’d run an obstacle course. “You’re not real,” I rasped. “There’s no way you’re real. Maybe I’m crazy and imagining all this.”
He let out one soft laugh. “I tried to imagine what it would be like to watch you touch yourself, but reality was so much better.”
I felt the first hint of embarrassment creep up my cheeks and I turned my nose to nestle against his neck. “I wasn’t sure you’d find that… attractive.”
He pinched my cheek hard. “Everything about you is sexy as hell, Laurel. Everything.”
