Chapter Thirteen - Ella
I was gagging on him. Tristan was so big that I felt stretched to the back of my throat, and I loved it. I wanted more. I wanted him to push into me as hard as he could, wanted him to hold my head as he fucked my mouth, wanted him to come all over my face and make me an absolute mess.
I was soaked as I worked him with my mouth, so turned on with his cock pressed into my mouth that the flimsy underwear piece of the lingerie I was wearing was wet all the way through. I thought of last night, of Tristan’s fingers in me, fucking me. I thought of his promise to fuck me with his cock next time, and I shuddered. I loved taking it in my mouth so much that I could only imagine how it would feel inside me. I was so wet from doing this to him, for him, that I thought I could make myself come in a second with my own fingers if I just reached down.
I didn’t, though. I concentrated on Tristan, letting him hit the back of my mouth over and over, wanting him to feel as amazing as I did.
“That’s fucking incredible,” he said, throwing his head back. I loved being able to make him do that, make him gasp and bite back curses, make that flush spread across his chest as I worked him.
“Ella, fuck, you’re so good at that,” he said, somewhere between encouragement and a moan. He was the crown prince, and I was making him feel this good, giving him this much. It was an incredible rush, and I wanted more. The head of his cock hit the back of my throat, and I thought of it inside me, filling me, taking me. I gasped around him at the thought, so turned on that my legs started to tremble.
“I’m going to come,” he said, seconds before he did. I stayed where I was, wanting to swallow as much as I could, wanting to feel him in my throat. I gulped, holding still and swallowing as he spurted into my mouth, hot and sticky.
He pulled me to my feet when he was done, kissing me and then pushing me toward the bed. He pulled the lingerie off me in a single motion, his eyes hungry on me. He reached down, fingers rolling over my nipples, making me gasp and twist under him. He slid his other hand down between my legs, teasingly at first, dancing over my hip bones and the tops of my thighs before dipping into my folds, making me cry out.
“You’re soaked,” Tristan said, breathing heavily. “Is it from sucking me?”
“Yes,” I said, practically panting. I wanted him so much.
“Good,” he said with a smirk, sliding both his hands down and spreading my legs wide. He teased fingers over my soaking clit before sliding one into me, curving up and hitting a spot that made me see white behind my eyes.
“Oh god, please, please, Tristan,” I cried as he added a second finger, twisting them around and opening and closing them inside me like he was stretching me for him. The thought that he was probably doing exactly that was so hot that I moaned again. He slid a third finger into me, fucking me hard and making me gasp. I couldn’t believe how good it felt, how he somehow knew exactly what I wanted. He knew just what I needed, just what to give me, and it was better than I thought it could be.
“So tight around my fingers, Ella,” he said as he twisted and rocked them into me, making me scream.
“Please,” I said, not even sure what I was begging for, but so ready to be taken by him. He kissed me again, hard, as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, over and over, at a relentless pace, until I came in waves around his fingers, screaming again. He fucked me all the way through with his fingers, not stopping until I was so sensitive and overwhelmed I squirmed under him. He slid his fingers out of me, and trailed them, soaking wet, over my ribs, my stomach. I gasped again.
“I believe I made you a promise last night,” he said, eyes on me as I shuddered at his touches. I nodded rapidly.
“Yes, please. I want you. I want you to fuck me, Tristan,” I said. I wanted him inside me, wanted to feel him in all of me, wanted him to be the first one who did that to me. No one had never made me feel like Tristan had. No one else had ever touched me or licked me or made me come, and I wanted all of him now, wanted him to have all of me, wanted his cock inside me. I trailed my hands down his stomach, gasping at how hard again he was already.
“I don’t break promises,” he said, moving back down and running his thumb in a few quick, firm circles on my clit again. Every time he touched me, I felt electric. I never wanted him to stop. He stroked his own cock a couple of times, already rock hard again, before easing it toward my entrance. He moved slowly, easing into me. I breathed, gasping and crying out as he slid in. He stopped moving when he was totally inside me and met my eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked, staring at my face. I swallowed hard, hardly believing he was inside me, that in this moment, I was no longer a virgin. That all I wanted right now was more.
“More than okay,” I said.
“Ready?” he asked. I nodded. I had never felt so stretched, never felt so much before, and it felt amazing. I felt amazing.
“Please fuck me,” I said again, rocking my own hips up into him. He grinned down at me, eyes dark with lust before he began moving.
God.
Every stroke was incredible, like he had set me on fire in the best possible way. Like he was taking me apart and putting me back together. He went slowly at first, hitting a spot inside me I didn’t know existed. It was all I could do not to scream again and again.
“You feel so fucking good, Ella, shit, you’re so tight, so perfect,” he said as he fucked me.
“This feels amazing,” I said back, gasping. “Oh, god, Tristan, yes.”
Every stroke, every roll of his hips, felt better than the last, and I felt myself building up again, already so close to another orgasm. I felt him in all of me, all the way to my wrists and my ankles, as he fucked me slow and deep, taking me higher, making me feel better than I’d ever felt.
He slid his hands down to my breasts as his cock moved in me, twisting my nipples in his fingers again and squeezing me in his hand as he rocked into me. I brought my hips up to meet his strokes, dizzy with how much I wanted him, with how good I felt. He moved his hand from my breast to between my legs, touching my clit and making me jump.
“Fuck, Tristan,” I cried, my head rolling back as he started rubbing circles on my clit as he fucked me.
“I need to feel it when you come around my cock, it’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he said, working me faster with his fingers, still so slow and deep inside me.
I crashed over the edge almost instantly, helpless to it, shouting his name as I came.
“Yes, that’s it, fuck, Ella,” Tristan said, coming inside me a moment later. It was like feeling my orgasm had been what he was waiting for, as if it had been what pushed him over the edge. Knowing he wanted me so badly, that I affected him that much, felt almost as amazing as the sex had.
He eased out of me slowly, coming up my body to kiss me, cupping his hands around my face. I wanted to say so many things, but I wasn’t sure if I should. I wanted to thank him, wanted to beg him to do it again, wanted so much in that moment. Instead, I buried myself in his chest, feeling how fast his heart was beating, and smiled, knowing I had caused it.