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“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Strong hands haul me back, positioning me with my ass hitched up.
Moving between my legs, he spreads me open for him with his huge thighs. He taps the head of his dick on the crevice of my ass. Precum drips between my cheeks. His long fingers mix his come in with my juices.
“Relax your ass for me, baby,” he murmurs, seemingly fascinated with his task. “That’s my girl.” He probes with one long digit before easing it inside. He starts a slow rhythm. “Such a good fucking girl for me.” I feel the head of his dick at my front entrance seconds before he pushes in.
I whimper, feeling vulnerable and open as he works both my holes. Slowly, he starts fucking me in both. His finger’s stretching me, filling me. His dick is plowing through my walls, battering every ounce of pleasure out of me, making me love the filthy things he’s doing.
“M-Ma—” I can’t get his name out when he picks up the pace. He doesn’t stop.
“Oh god,” I cry, and the pleasure and pain coalesce. I edge up, trying to relieve the pressure from the onslaught.
“Uh-uh, what you running for, little wife? Come on, take this dick.” He meanly slaps my bottom with the hand that was holding me steady, making my ass reverberate with pleasure. I feel it deep in my womb. Liquid evidence of my pleasure coats his dick, easing his way. The loud slapping sounds of him fucking me deep make my muscles squeeze him tightly.
“The way this tight little pussy keeps sucking me in, trying to keep in her, she missed this motherfucker,” he says, spitting on my rosette, adding another finger. His slick fingers move in and out of my tight asshole. “Say sorry for keeping us apart. Running off—”
“I’m sorry.” Hell, I’m too far gone to quibble at the moment. I’m loving what he’s doing too much to care about anything but the satisfaction he’s offering.
“Nah,” he says, “you just don’t want me to stop. Tell it to the pillow, little wife.” He presses my head down into the pillow, fucking me in deliciously punishing drives, he holds my head steady pressed down. I can barely breathe. Soon he’s moving so vigorously, I keep forgetting to, so caught up in the sensations he’s evoking with every drive of his powerful hips. Soft honeysuckle surrounds me. The hard press of his thighs meets me with every hard stroke. Every moment I think I can’t take more pleasure, he proves that I can handle a little more.
“You’re doing so good, your pretty ass taking my finger. I knew you were going to love it. Squeezing my finger and my dick like a champ.”
The breath seizes in my chest, and he keeps fucking me. I can’t breathe.
“You’re about to dance among the stars.”
He slams into me in a hard relentless beat. I’m helpless to do anything but take everything he gives me. My eyes roll as he starts hitting the spot just inside making gasp as my body seizes with pleasure. “Ohmygoodbess, Thi." I don’t even sound like myself.
With a twist of his fingers in my ass pushing me past every boundary I can imagine he praises, “Just like that give me all of you, like you promised.”
Then he’s pounding my pussy and fingerfucking my ass with one intent — to ruin me. My mind disconnects as stars sparkle behind my eyes. My ears are filled with cotton. My nipples brushing against the down send sparks of energy that all seem to meet like magic in the middle. My climax seizes me with a blinding intensity. Indeed I am dancing among the stars seconds before my conscious mind floats away.
When my consciousness returns,I open my eyes to see the iridescent silver of Mathias’s gaze. For the first time since this whole thing began between us, his gaze is soft.
“How are we doing, beautiful?” His voice is gruff in that sweet way that tells me he’s dealing with emotions neither of us can handle right now. He strokes damp curls away from my face. Placing tender kisses on my forehead, he waits patiently, but I can tell he expects an answer.
“I’m good,” I say, looking away, snuggling close, as close as I can get. Inhaling, I take in the sweet muskiness sex has left in its wake. Rapidly cooling skin makes me shiver, and my nipples harden, pressing against his chest. Reaching over he pulls the covers around me.
“Would you like to shower now or wait?” He’s still stroking me. I can’t gather my thoughts enough to make a sound or the simplest decision.
“I don’t know.” My voice sounds small to my own ears. Vulnerability shatters me, and a tear slips free, then another and another until he wraps me fully in his arms, sheltering me.
Quietly I sob as he holds me close to his heart. Minutes—I don’t know how many—tick by, and still he holds me. When my tears eventually cease, he stands, pulling me from the bed into his arms. Gathering me closer he kisses me again, “Let me take care of you.”
Naked, he pads over to his bathroom instead of mine on the opposite side of the room. When we enter, we’re surrounded by pristine stainless steel on every surface save the floor. There’s a slate-gray shower and a modern bathtub of the same color.
He takes me over to the shower before sitting me on a bench inside.
“It has a sauna,” he tells me, hitting buttons. Moments later warmth surrounds me as the sauna comes on. “It will ease all your aches. You’ll be good as new in the morning. This is my biggest campaign secret.” He gives me a small smile, quietly assessing my well-being.
By the time he turns the shower on, I’m feeling more like myself but still disconnected. After testing the water, he draws me under the spray, then washes and conditions my hair as well as my stylist. After rinsing the conditioner, he takes a sponge and bathes me, lathering me in big swaths from head to toe twice, with a thorough rinse in between. It’s like in this short time, he’s noted my routine and committed it to memory.
“Sit,” he tells me, turning to the full blast of the waterfall shower he increased the pressure on. His glutes flex as he stands before me lathering his body in quick efficient movements. In deft strokes he uses the same sponge, washing himself.
“Do you want me to do your back?” Languid muscles and a thorough bathing at his hands have me sounding sultrier than I intended.
“No. We both know where that will end up.” He turns his back on the shower, facing me. Taking himself in hands, he strokes the soap from root to tip, slowly jacking his tumescent dick. Reaching beneath, he grabs his sac, massaging soap there before turning back to the shower to rinse.
Stepping out, he wraps a towel around himself and brings two for me. After wrapping the large one around my body, he takes the other and wraps it around my hair.
