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I’ve missed the sounds of her when she fucks.
I’ve missed all of her.
There’s something different about this.
She comes in and kisses me, slow and long. Deep. She rocks on my cock, taking me deep, shuddering as I stroke my cock’s head on those parts full of nerve endings, and we fuck in long, slow, deep thrusts. The fucking mimics the kissing.
But soon we’re both lost in it, sighing, moaning, kissing and biting and fucking harder. I let her ride me how she wants until she’s bouncing on my cock hard, and I take her hips and start to move her, slamming her down as I thrust up into her. She’s making little sounds that stroke my shaft.
I need to be deep. I flip us again, taking her legs and pushing them up on my shoulders so she’s stretched so right, so tight around me, and I start to angle in, hard, deep. Long.
Fuck, she feels good.
Soon we’re both groaning, and she’s whispering. “Yes. Fuck. Yes. I needed this. I needed you. God. Harder, harder. Harder.”
I start to slam harder, my balls high and tight, everything aching and tingling.
I need her to spasm around me, so I pinch her clit, tugging and pulling, rubbing and pushing, doing all the things she likes. All the things that border on wrong. Letting out a deep and guttural moan, she gives me exactly what I want and comes. Her body jerks, clamping hard on me.
I grit my teeth and hold back. I want her to do it again. I need that wild orgasm from her that takes over all of her, that makes her squeeze my cock so fucking tight, it’s like a fucking vice.
So, I hammer into her with violent thrusts, angling up to hit her G-spot, and then so deep it makes her moan every single fucking time. She’s still coming around me, but I want that big one, the thing that seems to rip her soul out and put it back in better.
Under my fingers, her clit starts that deep throb, and she starts making sounds.
“Oh. Oh. Oh, I’m coming, I’m coming! Oh, Hendrick, you filthy, nasty fuck. I’m coming.”
And she does. She comes so hard that it sets me off, too. My shaft being squeezed by her over and over, so fucking tight that I can’t help but let out an almighty roar as the pleasure flies through me, and I spurt and spurt in her.
I keep thrusting as I do, and her body keeps contracting tight as she thrashes.
She’s crying, and she’s so fucking wet that I know she squirted. My sheets are soaked beneath us.
Finally, I slam into her one last time, push her legs down, and roll us, so she’s sprawled on me, my cock in her as the spasms grow softer and softer. Then, finally with a small twitch of her body here and there, it stops.
I let out a shuddering breath.
Fuck. Me.
“Actually,” I say as my heart starts to slow its mad beat, and I twirl her soft hair in my fingers. “I really don’t care why you’re here, as long as that’s how you greet me.”
She snuggles in against me, and like this, I start to drift off. She does, too. I know because she whispers, “I really think I am falling in love with you.”
I close my eyes and take those words for what they are: everything and nothing at all.
* * *
In the morning my alarm goes off. The lamp’s still on, but she’s gone.
I didn’t think Magdalena would stay. I pull on the shorts I’d worn working out yesterday and search the house.
Not for her.
But to see if she’s taken anything. More importantly, to see if she got into the vault.
I check security, how I set it, too. Nothing seems to have been touched. But I open it, and go in. Open the safe.
Both items are in there. The pink notebook and the plain box with the necklace, which sits beneath a velvet cloth.
