LILY
He felt so good inside me that I kept forgetting to touch myself like he’d shown me he wanted me to do. I got lost in his strength and his ferocious and unbridled desire. I let him take over. I let him do whatever he wanted, however he wanted to do it.
Each drive into me was accompanied by a slap of his hips against the backs of my thighs, and I felt a sheen of sweat begin to cover my body, making the marble slick. Again and again he drove into me, with his eyes trained on me and his teeth set. Sometimes he’d slow down a bit and tease me with a tantalizing near withdrawal. As soon as he got close to leaving me, I realized I needed that pressure inside me. Not just wanted. Needed. Needed the pressure and the release that was coming. Oh God, it was coming. Then he’d drive into me with everything he had again, making me let out a porn-star growl. As I felt that undeniable flutter deep in my hips, I grabbed his hand.
He gripped my hand tight in his, our fingers interlaced. His face softened, not so intense and primal now as much as cautious and attentive. Laser focused on me and what I needed. He tensed up his abs, revealing new sexy muscles in new sexy places. As he tensed, he changed the way he was driving into me—the angle, the depth, the intensity all shifted. Everything went into overdrive. “What are you . . .” I rolled my neck back, the back of my head against the marble edge. “Oh my God.”
“Tell me,” he said, hitting that spot again. And again. And again.
Every pound brought me closer. This pleasure wave wasn’t coming from my fingers. It wasn’t coming from his hips hitting my clit as it had last night. This was coming from inside. Deep inside, and every drive got me that much . . .
“Closer,” I gasped.
Every time he drove into me, my walls constricted around him involuntarily.
“Let go.” His voice was gruff and serious. He yanked me farther off the edge of the island and rammed into me harder than he ever had before. “I’ve got you.”
He’s got you. He does. I focused on that pressure inside me, on the way he was making me feel, on the way he made my body pulse and throb and flutter.
The whole world got blurry and faraway with pleasure. Halfway through it, somewhere halfway down, I heard him grind out a long, dirty “Fuuuuuuuck” as he took me even harder. My screams came from deep inside my chest, noises I’d never made before. I didn’t try to be quiet. I didn’t try to be polite. I just let go, exactly like he said.
It went on and on and on, one wave right on the heels of another. I didn’t know if it was multiple orgasms or maybe just one epically long one. But really, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but him and the things he was doing to me. Things I had never even imagined before.
When the waves of pleasure began to let me go and I came back to earth, I let my knees drop to the side so I was in a ball on the pastry island, with him still inside me. With the back of his forearm, he wiped some sweat from his forehead. “Now that is what I’m talking about.”
I nodded, my chin grazing my shoulder. I felt faraway and dreamy, like the time my sister and I had shared a joint. He was still hard inside me, and he didn’t slip out of me even when he bent down over me to give me a row of kisses up my shoulder.
He moved my arm aside and took my right nipple in his mouth. Again his eyes closed in that pure bliss. Total peace. I let him stay there for a while and savored the way his tongue felt running over my nipple, the way his stubble felt against the soft skin of the underside of my breast.
Figuring out what he liked wasn’t about to be a process of trial and error. Oh no. I knew what got him revving. He’d shown me already. “Hand me my phone.”
He let my nipple slip from his mouth and looked up at me, like he was searching to see if I was serious. “You’re shitting me.”
I shook my head, feeling the pinch of my pinned hair tugging on my scalp. “You filmed me. Now I film you.”
He drew his head back slightly, turning his cheek. It reminded me of a boxer squaring up in the ring. Think you can handle this? “Give it to me.” I wiggled my fingers. “Right now.”
He pulled out of me, and my hips rolled back involuntarily. Keeping one hand possessively on my thigh, he knelt down and grabbed my phone from our pile of stuff. Then he handed it over. I woke it up and went to the camera. I saw myself in blurry streaks and hit play. My recorded moans filled the kitchen. Seeing myself in that state of total surrender turned me on intensely. I felt the warmth rush through my body, and he echoed it with a growl as he placed himself at my opening. “You just got so wet.”
I started filming him, full frame, full torso. I got up on my elbow and brought the camera in close on both of us together as he entered me. “Look at that,” I whispered as he pushed inside me. I leaned back, my whole body quivering with so much sensitivity from what he’d just done to me. I drove my heels into the edges of the countertop for support. As he pushed into me, I zoomed in on his face. I panned down over his chest, his abs, and back up again. Using two fingers, I made a V around his cock and made them slick with my wetness. I reached up and pressed them to his lips, and he licked them clean. “Yeahhhh,” I said softly as I watched in the frame.
“Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good.”
I gave him a little squeeze and watched his lower abs tighten as I did. Having him on camera magnified all the hotness, knowing that he was doing this for me and to me. Knowing that it wasn’t fleeting—I wouldn’t have to imagine this. I could relive it. As many times as I wanted.
He furrowed his eyebrows slightly, and his thrusts got more intense. I felt his balls slapping my ass and I had to focus, really focus, on keeping the camera trained on him. The more I focused, the more intense it all became. Because this wasn’t about me, not now. This was about him and what I could do to him—with a word or a glance or a shift of my body.
He took me. Hard. Hard enough to make my hip bones ache, hard enough to work me right back up into a furious frenzy.
I could tell he was close. His eyes fluttered shut, and he inhaled hard. He ran his hands down my body and gripped my hips. I let my legs part slightly, and he pulled me closer so my skin squeaked on the marble.
On the next deep drive, I relaxed inside but then tensed up as he was pulling out. “Holy shiiiit.” He let his head fall back so he was looking up at the ceiling. “Fuck,” he said. “Lily. Fuck.”
“Now it’s your turn to let go,” I said, egging him on. “Let me film you doing it.”
“You gonna send that file to me?” he asked, his voice gruff and heavy with desire.
“Maybe,” I said, sucking in a breath to keep myself focused on him. “If you’re good. And if you give me what I want.”
“I’ll fucking give it to you,” he said with a new edge and new tension in his voice. I liked that about him, the way he sometimes let me peek down there between the cracks. Like the red-hot, churning heat underneath a dark lava field.
I leaned back a little farther with my elbow locked. I let my hair spill over my shoulder and waited until he was looking at me again. He powered into me with that same intensity that made me come before. “Shit, Lily,” he said, with closed eyes and that sexy, dreamy expression on his face. “You’re going to make me . . .”
“Look at me,” I told him.
He opened his eyes, almost icy with desire. He was tough, but I could be tougher. “So now stop fucking around. And come for me.”
“Where the hell have you been all my life?” he snarled. “Shit. Shit.” He let his head fall back and roared at the ceiling, “Holy shit.” With one more squeeze, I had him. That beautiful man coming inside me.
He stayed inside me for a long time after he finished. When he left me, I rolled up to sitting and wrapped my legs around him. He drew me into him and smoothed my hair with rough strokes down my back. “Bed?” I asked with my cheek pressed against his sweaty chest.
“I got a better idea,” he said and slipped out of my grasp. He offered his hand to me, and I slid off the island. When I did, though, my knees almost went right out from under me and I stumbled.
He was there to catch me, and I hung on to him for support. “You OK?”
I looked up at him. My thighs were both rubbery and tight. “I think so.”
“Did I fuck you until you can’t walk?”
I felt like a newborn foal on one of the General’s favorite nature shows. “You sure did.”
“Goddamn. This night gets better and better,” he said and scooped me up into his arms, newlywed style. I squealed when he did it. I wasn’t very big, but I wasn’t small either, and I most definitely wasn’t used to being carried around like this. Twice, just tonight! Like I weighed nothing at all, he carried me up the steps and into the big, spacious bathroom. He paused by the light switch and I turned it on, dimming the lights to their lowest point. I’d seen the bathroom that morning, but I’d been in such a rush I hadn’t taken the time to really appreciate it. The wainscoting was old-fashioned tile hexagons, no bigger than quarters. And the floor was hexagons too, but bigger, in a checkerboard pattern of black and white. He gently let me slip from his arms, so I stood on the bathmat. Then he turned on the water in the majestic, beautiful old fairy-tale claw-foot tub. He turned to look over his shoulder as he plugged the drain and winked at me.
“A bath? Together?” I gasped.
“Told you I was going to treat you right. But I gotta do one thing. You stay here, OK?” He grabbed two huge terry-cloth towels from the rack behind me. One of them he wrapped around me like a cloak. The other he wrapped around his waist, working the edge into a knot against his rock-hard stomach.
“OK,” I said, dragging my eyes off his abs.
“Be right back.” He let himself out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. For a second, I listened and watched the water slowly filling up the tub. But when I heard his footsteps get softer, so soft that I couldn’t hear them anymore, I turned off the faucet to figure out what he might be up to. In the silence, I heard the creak of the screen door in the kitchen. Cinching my towel around me, I padded to the big window at the end of the upstairs hallway and looked out over the backyard, where I saw him heading to his truck. He opened the passenger-side door and flipped the seat forward. When he leaned inside, his yummy buns in their fuzzy terry-cloth wrapping caught the moonlight, highlighting the slight concave curvature on the side of each one.
Lord have mercy on me and those beautifully sculpted buns.
He slammed the door shut, and in his hand I saw a small paper gift bag. Just like Aunt Jennifer used at her store. He grabbed the picnic basket and made his way back to the house, stopping to pick up my sneaker on the way. I sprinted back to the bathroom and turned the water back on. I closed the lid of the toilet and waited. He reappeared just a few minutes later, still holding the gift bag.
“That’s for you.”
“I think I’ve had enough gifts for a lifetime.”
He lifted his eyebrow and shook his head. “Tough. You better get used to it. Now open that.”
I took the bag from him and pulled the rattan ribbon off the handle. Inside was a full set of my most favorite, favorite, favorite bath supplies, the ones I never splurged on. “Bubble bath. Salt scrub. And massage oil!” I clutched all three fancy glass bottles and pressed their cold edges to my bare chest.
Beaming, he took the bubble bath from me and drizzled an oh-so-generous amount into the water. The suds foamed up and filled the room with the scents of lemongrass, ginger, and rosemary. He offered his hand to me and helped me into the warm water. I lowered myself into a crouch at the front of the tub, and he climbed in behind me. He was a big guy, and the water level rose a lot when he got in, covering me with warmth and suds, sloshing from side to side. He pulled me back into him, making my tush squeak on the porcelain. He wrapped his arms around me and placed his lips to my shoulder. I melted back into him, with my arms tangled up around his.
His Dopp kit on the counter caught my eye, and I studied the small travel containers with a pinch in my heart. I bought my shampoo by the family-size bottle at Costco. He barely had enough for a week. It was concrete proof that he wasn’t here to stay. But it was no use worrying about that, not now. Not yet, I told myself, as the bubbles all around us whispered, “Hushhhhhh.”