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Again, I’m in a state where I don’t care about the gloves or the fact he’s still dressed, or the fact we’re doing this all wrong. It feels too good.
No.
He feels too good.
Nathan grips my breast, pulling me back against his chest so my arms are no longer holding me up. I twist my head so he can kiss me, allowing him to swallow the moans that escape me. He doesn’t go back to kissing my neck when I lean forward, gripping the pillows once more. I wonder if this is because of the perspiration that is now covering my skin.
I try to push my hips back towards him, wanting to feel him deeper. It doesn’t work. He places a hand on my lower back, stopping me from pushing into him anymore. Why won’t he go inside? This burning is driving me crazy. I need more, just a little bit more.
“Please, Nathan, harder,” I pant, my head falling forward, my shame gone.
“Can’t,” he bites out and my eyes fly open. I want to look at him, so I turn my head as far as possible and peer at him through the corner of my eye. His torso is straight, his eyes clenched shut and his teeth biting into his lower lip.
My swollen clit begins to throb. I feel it pulse as a strong familiar burning sensation spreads through my body. I feel it in my feet, in my calves, my thighs, my arms, and directly behind my eyes, where it pops over and over again. It’s coming, I can feel it. If he’d just go deeper…
“Come on, baby,” he whispers, his tone demanding and forceful in my ear. “Let go.”
“Can’t.” I repeat what he said to me moments ago.
“I can’t last much longer,” he warns and slows his thrusting. “You feel too good.”
“Go harder,” I order, placing my hand over his on my clit.
“Christ,” he breathes, his eyes widening a fraction. “So tight.” His lips tilt up at the edges. I scowl. Why’s he teasing me?
My forehead hits the mattress as a sharp tingle hits me in my core and pools in my lower stomach.
“Deeper,” I beg.
He ignores me, so I muster what little strength I have to look at him again. Seeing his brows furrow in pleasure, listening to his quiet moans and heavy breaths, feeling him tense with each shallow thrust, it tips me over the edge. I press his fingers hard onto my swollen nub and try my hardest to push back onto him.
Something pops inside of me and warm, liquid ecstasy pours into every vein, traveling around my entire body. The noises I make are indecipherable. The pleasure I feel indescribable. My legs buckle beneath me. Nathan catches me around the waist with ease as I continue to ride the wave.
My walls clench around him as if trying to hold him inside, even as my orgasm slowly begins to subside. I don’t want him to leave me. He’s still hard, he still hasn’t reached his climax yet.
“Don’t slow down,” I gasp, my hand reaching out to grab his hip. He pushes it away, but I wrap my fingers around the belt loop and hold it tight. “Go deeper.”
“Let go,” he says, grasping at my fingers, trying to pry them off.
“Don’t make me.”
“Let go.”
“Nathan,” I plead, moving my hips back, my appetite for him not satisfied yet.
“Guinevere! Let GO!” He almost bellows, his eyes panicked and furious. I immediately release him and he pulls out and away instantly. My shock is apparent on my face as I roll onto my back, grabbing my dress and pulling it around me as I go.
“What’s wrong?”
He turns. I watch as he rips the condom off and throws it into a small bin by the trap door. By the time he’s turned around, he’s zipped himself up and is already working at doing up the buttons on his shirt.
What just happened?
He lets out a breath and looks at me, his eyes scanning my body. I shouldn’t be shy after that, though I can’t help but pull the sheet tighter around me.
“Are you okay?” He asks, sitting on the pillow beside me, making it dip slightly and forcing me to lean into him.
I nod. “Are you?”
“Yes.” He strokes my collarbone and the swell of my breast.
“Why am I naked and you aren’t?” It didn’t matter much when I was lost in the throes of ecstasy. Now that I have my mind back, I feel slightly awkward.
He doesn’t respond. Instead he pulls his jacket on and makes his way to the trap door. Giving me a soft, lingering look, he says, “I’ll just be a moment.”
“Okay.”
He leaves the tree house without looking back. Seriously… what just happened?
Did he orgasm? I’m sure he didn’t. I look at the empty condom lying in the bin and scratch my head. This is confusing; he was definitely close. Did I not feel good to him?
