crest of my ear as he rocks his cock in and out of me slowly. “Say it, or hold still and let me give it to you.”
I whimper and bite my lip. I want him to give it to me.
“Good girl.”
The praise fills me up and gives me strength. I can be patient. He’ll make it worth my while.
He pulls himself off my back in a single smooth action. I can see in my mind’s eye his abdominal muscles contracting, the only indication that it would take him any effort to move so fluidly. With the same balance of strength and care, he shifts my body up, lifting my hips up into the cradle of his pelvis. My knees are off the bed, but he’s holding me securely with his large, rough hands and his cock is rubbing a spot inside me that drifts me into an altered headspace where he could twist me into a pretzel and I wouldn’t care. As he can sense that I’m lost in bliss, he holds me there, fucking me just hard enough to ride over that spot, using his words to twist my mind up and over the final crest toward my first orgasm.
I know it’s coming, and I know it’s just the first, because he’s not in any hurry to join me. He loves coming in my pussy, and he loves doing it at the same time as my walls clench hard around him. He swears his come spills right into my womb that way, and if he says something like that when it happens, it makes me so fucking hot I could go again right away. And sometimes we do.
But other nights, he holds off, wanting to see how many times he can make me fall apart before he loses himself. Those nights, he might come on me, marking me, white ropes of him shining on me in the dark. Or he might, on rare occasion, come in my ass, but usually he he pulls out and spills on my back, liking how I shudder at the loss of him.
He likes everything about fucking me, and I love that.
I love him.
I always have, but now that we have this, this no-holds barred connection, this honesty , I love him more than I ever thought possible. And I don’t think I could ever find the words to tell him how much this means to me, so I show him instead. I give him my body. I give him my trust.
“Your pussy is so tight, baby. I could do this all night, rocking in and out of you. Do you feel how hard you make me? Do you feel that cock, filling you up? You do that. You turn me on that much. I love fucking you. I love rolling you over and having my fucking way with you while you’re still sleeping. And you’re such a good girl, you spread your legs for me even while you’re sleeping, don’t you?”
And that’s what does it. That’s what rips me apart, knowing there’s never a time I’d say no to him, because he needs me as much as I need him. I seize up hard around him, and he slows his rocking, not stopping, but gentling enough to give me a chance to recover before he’s going to ramp us both up again.
“You get so sloppy after you come, baby. It’s hot.” I wish I’d known that. I wasted ten years after puberty before embarrassed about the awesomeness between my legs. Of course, if I’d slutted it up before, then I wouldn’t have discovered this with him. And I love that he’s the only person who’s ever known this side of me. The only one who’s met my inner hedonist. In some ways, he didn’t just meet her. He made her.
I shiver, and he pulls out. “No...” I moan, and he chuckles.
“Hold still, I just need to get something.”
I shift, trying to see what he’s doing through the darkness, and I heard the air part a split second before his palm connected sharply with my ass.
“Hold. Still.”
I know better than to shift again. If I do, I won’t get another spanking, I’ll get put away wet and needy. He rarely spanks for fun, and never if I try to manipulate it. He’s right, of course. It wouldn’t make my pulse jump if he gave in. Wouldn’t make my pussy drip with excitement, or my skin itch with need.
He’s back. He places something at the far side of the bed, then he’s over me again, and his hands
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