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Truly(85)

By:Ruthie Knox


He took his sweet time about it. Kissing her mouth, her breasts, learning how much pressure she wanted, where she liked to be stroked, what made her impatient, what drove her wild. The ice cube came into play again, but she squirmed away from it, no longer interested.

“Your mouth,” she said.

“Tell me again.”

“Give me your mouth.”

“I love it when you’re bossy.” He spread her thighs and held them open behind the knees, and he licked her and nibbled and bit like he’d been starving, and she was exactly what he wanted to eat.

Disgusting and amazing, she thought, and it was, oh, it was. Her back arched, her hands grabbing at his shoulders, digging into his hair and pushing his face where she wanted it.

He knew what he was doing, but he made her say it anyway. “Here, May?”

“No, higher.”

“Like this?”

“Softer.”

“Still like this?”

“Harder now.”

He teased her, little stabbing worthless motions of his tongue, and she smacked the crown of his head, which made him laugh.

Then he did it properly, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

“Anything else you need?”

“Your fingers.” And then, a few seconds later, “Oh, goddamn it, not one, you prick.”

He laughed at her, laved her with his tongue, gave her two fingers and then three. Gave her heat and pressure and bliss, curling her toes, gathering in her belly and focusing in, in, tighter and tighter until she had to push up hard into his mouth, and he lifted away.

“Ask nice,” he said.

“Let me come.”

“Say please.”

“Make me come now, or I will do it myself.”

That made all the lines crinkle around his eyes, his dimples crease, but he lowered his head again and did as he was told, each rough stroke of his tongue accompanied by thrusting fingers. She bowed off the bed, sweating, overwhelmed. She might have shouted. It seemed entirely possible that she’d died, and he made it last forever, like he knew some secret orgasm-extension formula she’d never discovered on her own. Finally, she had to wiggle away from his mouth and turn on her side, or she would have died. She definitely would have.

He spooned her from behind, and she panted and steamed, limp and wet and terribly, frighteningly happy.

Ben nuzzled her ear. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I probably looked like a dying whale.”

“I thought you might be an octopus for a second there, you got so handsy.”

She laughed, turning over onto her stomach and smiling into the pillow. Ben stroked one hand down her back, over her ass, and left it there.

“If I don’t fuck you soon, I’m gonna die,” he said conversationally.

“Climb aboard,” she offered. “I’ll try not to bother you.”

He straddled her butt and gave it a smack.

“Did you just hit me?” she asked.

“You ever been spanked?”

“Not since I was six.”

“I bet you’d like it. You have so much shame anyway. Shame and sex are good neighbors.”

“You have sex with your neighbors?”

“Not lately. Get up on your hands and knees.”

“I can’t move.”

“You can, too.”

She did as he asked, and she found that her body still worked after all. That his hands felt good, stroking over her hips and legs. His gaze felt good when she turned and caught the expression on his face, abstracted with lust, surveying the shapes of her naked body.

“Get me a condom from that drawer in the table,” he said.

“You’re issuing a lot of orders.”

“I know. Let’s see if you follow them.”

She crawled over and found the condoms, separated one, and handed it to him.

“On your back.”

“I thought you were going to … you know. From behind.”

“Did you want me to?”

“Yes.”

“Good to know for next time.”

There would be a next time. A cheering thought.

May flipped over, and Ben put the condom on and moved on top of her, his cock settling warm and hard where she was still hot and wet.

“Fuck,” he said, with a pleasurable grimace. “Come here.”

She kissed him, wondering if it was his turn to make the requests. Was that how it worked? Partners dictating the terms of their pleasure, taking orders when they felt like it, obeying slowly or with their own creative twists when they didn’t?

He lifted her knee, pushed against her heat, and kissed her deep. His hand found her breast, shaping and squeezing it. More for his own pleasure than hers, though she liked that, too. She liked him taking what he wanted from her.

He tore his mouth away and breathed against her neck as he positioned himself and entered her. Heat and intrusive pressure, a partial thrust, and then he was all the way in with a dark groan that made her clutch at his back.