He didn’t finish his question. He met her eyes and then understood exactly what she was doing.
She felt exhilarated, powerful, temporarily dominant, as she watched this strong, composed man totally lose it beneath her. She squeezed around him as steadily as she could, trying to coordinate that rhythm with the speed she was riding him. When he began to buck up into her, making helpless, grunting sounds, she knew she had won.
It wouldn’t take him long now to come.
But one thing she hadn’t counted on was the effect his thrusts had on her body. As his cock drove into her from below, the rough friction on her sensitized flesh sent her spiraling past conscious intentions. The delicious pressure—briefly interrupted—started building again at the sight of his frantic desire and the lush sensations they were generating between them.
She moaned deeply and tried to remember to keep squeezing her muscles. Raised her hands to clutch her own breasts, which were slapping against her chest. “Your turn,” she gasped, desperately trying to think of anything but how close she was to coming. “Come, Owen. Come now.”
His entire body was rocking like a wave, his hips slamming up into hers without restraint. “You first,” he gritted out, one hand gripping the flesh of her hip and the other fumbling in the general location of her clit.
She moved with his thrusts instinctively, her body having a will of its own—and that will rushing headlong toward her fifth climax. The only way to stop the momentum would be to stop moving entirely, but that would interrupt Owen’s climax. And his release was what she needed.
So she met each of his thrusts. Erratically clenched around him whenever she could remember to use her intimate muscles purposefully. Felt perspiration forming in the hollow of her neck, the small of her back, and where her thighs were rubbing against his skin. She made little whimpers of pleasure and frustration as she tried to hold back her impending climax.
“No,” she panted, her voice unconsciously synchronizing itself to the tempo of their slapping bodies. “You. Come, baby. Come.”
He choked on a strangled sound and fisted the bedding with one of his hands, pulling up the coverlet as his body thrashed helplessly.
Amy closed her eyes tightly. Couldn’t watch him. It was too much, too overwhelming. She’d never seen him like this before. Never witnessed such tangible proof of how wild, how primitively desperate she could make this sophisticated man.
His hand fumbled again at her clit, and this time arrived at the right spot. He pushed into the swollen bit of flesh, and Amy cried out as a jolt of sharp pleasure shot through her.
The one part of her mind that could still focus on such things realized that Owen was about to win this little race. So in a last ditch effort to get him to come before she did, she arched her back as far she could, tightening her belly and breasts as she leaned backward.
She knew Owen was watching her with frantic intensity, and she reached behind her body to find and cup his balls.
It only took one squeeze of her hand for Owen to roar out, “Fuck!”
He came with startling power. Amy saw his face transform in the sudden wash of pleasure. Heard his shouted cry of relief. Felt him swell and contract inside her tight muscles.
She was convinced she would have been able to hold back her orgasm, even though Owen continued to thrust wildly throughout the duration of his climax. Amy was all set to watch him come, to enjoy her victory. She was very close to orgasm but she hadn’t fallen over the edge.
Except for one thing. After his initial loud vocal response, while his climax was still ripping through him, Owen closed his eyes and breathed in a harsh whisper, “Yes, love. Amy.”
Her rational mind might tell her that it was just a normal endearment.
But her heart heard him say, “Love Amy.” And her body reacted to what her heart had heard.
She moaned deep in her throat as the rush of feeling slammed into her. His cock was still moving inside her, now firmly hitting her g-spot as she kept leaning backward. Her muscles started to spasm and familiar waves of sensation overtook her. “Owen,” she whimpered, her body clamping down on his and her fingernails breaking into the skin on his hard thighs.
It felt so rich, so hard, so deep. So good.
“Owen,” she choked out again, as her body shook through her orgasm.
She had to bite her lip to keep from saying anything else.
They froze in position for a minute, still rocking a little into the lingering contractions.
Then Amy opened her eyes and released her grip on Owen’s thighs. Before she could slump forward, Owen had pulled her down into a tight, needy embrace.
She shook a little against him—wondering if she was actually crying. He held her silently, desperately, and she burrowed into his heat and his strength.