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“Then fuck me like you mean it,” he meets me with his feral thrusts.
How it is possible to like this, to want this, to want him, is a mystery I never want to unravel for fear of what I might find underneath.
I shudder as he digs deep, grazing my G-spot with his foreskin.
“Eyes on me Rosaline, I want to see how good you feel when you come on my cock,” he pinches my nipple hard and I bring my head forward, resting my hands on his thighs instead, “Say it.”
His eyes steal the thought from me, invading me even more than his cock.
“You feel good,” I spurt, coming clean.
“I fuck you good, don't I?”
“You fuck me good,” I say breathlessly.
“Then come for me like the good slut that you are,” he pulls the reins of my orgasm with his words and I topple over.
The heat ripples through me to the pit of my stomach, where his cock pounds out the wildfire and my pussy implodes. My vision blurs the intensity of his eyes and my mouth suspends open with words I dare not let get to the tip of my tongue, as I spasm, burning my way through a turbulent orgasm. I leak him up with some of the fire and he sears apart, dipping further into me in a way that borders pain as he shoots liquids inside me that help quiet the fire in my stomach.
We are both breathing heavily, our eyes trying to hold our lazy gaze, our mouths agape with words that won't make it out.
It dawns on me.
He sees me and he calls to the part of me that he sees. The part that just had sex without trying to please anyone. The part that wasn't caring about being perfect or falling into line. The part that isn't a people pleaser.
Whatever this is. It's unveiling.
It's freeing.
“Perfect,” he slurs and smiles slightly. “On a fucking pedestal,” he leans back in his seat and pulls me with it.
Easy.
I hear my heart whispering and falling for him.
Chapter Twenty-One
BENEDETTO
Balance duality.
We sync.
All my life I have been careful not to give myself away to the women I have fucked. I knew what I wanted and it was impossible to let the beast come out to play. Everyone says they can take it until you let loose. So, I have learned to play it safe with others. To fuck because I needed somewhere to empty my sack.
But with Rosaline, fucking isn't just that. With her, fucking is emptying my soul. It's letting the veil slip and I do it not minding her judgment because the crazy part is, she never holds any in her eyes.
Fear, hate, disgust? Yeah, she carries those in her eyes whenever she looks at me. But I see them as a propellent for how badly she calls to me to fuck through the charade. Underneath all ofthat, she is hungry and it's the kind that only a man like me can satisfy. She is needy, anxious and hell she is mine to care for whether she wants it or not. Whether she knows this or not. Who gives a flying fuck?
I smile at myself.
At least we made progress last night. I wanted to rip her apart and hold her together all at once. I wanted to fuck her in a way that has her almost passing out and then I wanted to fuck her back to life. I wanted to fill every part of her up with my cock and cum all at once if it were even possible. Fuck her mouth, fuck between her full breast, fuck her warm pussy, fuck her ass hole, fuck her thighs, fuck her hands, just fuck the girl till there's nowhere left to brand with my come.
But I was able to contain myself and channel the all-consuming need and just fuck her pussy.
I stroke her hair with my fingers, and plant soft kisses on the rich wave, while my other arm holds her to my chest like she will disappear on me. We've been like this all night, her leg thrown across my body, her head on my chest, and her hand slightly covering my face.
After fucking last night, I took her to the bed and was expecting her to untangle, but instead, she held me tighter, already asleep, with my cock and come still inside her. I couldn't get my cock to turn mush all night and every once in a while, I'd throb and move inside her warm pussy. It was the best fucking night's rest have had in my entire screwed-up life.
