Hours tick past in the dimly lit room. I can only tell by the street lamps outside, the way they click off and plunge the room into utter dark around three in the morning, when all the drunks from the casino will have staggered home into their beds, so there’s no reason to leave the city’s lights blazing.
A while after that—half an hour or so—the latch on my window cracks open. It’s done this almost once a week since I moved in, a problem I’ve called the landlord about a dozen times, but he’s never fixed it. The window sags open from the top and lets a sliver of cold night air sneak inside. Suddenly even Stone’s body heat isn’t enough to keep me toasty. Heck, even he shivers a little beneath me, still lost in sleep.
I reach for the blankets we tossed aside earlier, but they’re too far away. Carefully, I dislodge his arm from my waist, sliding off him to grab the blankets.
A strong hand clamps around my wrist as I do, freezing me in my tracks. Stone blinks up at me from the bed, but his eyes are blank, faraway. “Stone?” I whisper.
In reply, he flips me under him suddenly, his whole body flinging over mine. His one hand still pins my wrist, and his other catches my leg, sliding all the way down to my ankle and lifting my leg up over my waist until he’s kneeling above me, his cock erect between us, my foot pressed to his cheek.
He lets go of my hand and traces the shape of my leg instead, with both hands, running them from my ankle all the way down to my thigh. One of his hands slides back up to massage my foot, while his other hand keeps sliding down my leg, to the crook of my hip, then across my sex, his fingers tracing the outline of my entrance.
I feel myself growing wetter as he leans in to nip my ankle, then the sole of my foot. His teeth scrape the thin, sensitive skin there as a shiver passes through me. No one’s ever done this to me before and my whole body goes warm with need.
He keeps tracing my toes with his mouth while his other hand spreads my pussy wide open. His long fingers inch into me one at a time, until he has three buried knuckle deep inside of me, swirling them in circles against my inner walls, coating them in my juices.
When he pulls his fingers out, I groan faintly in protest. He wraps his hand around his cock instead, covering himself in my wet come, before he lets go of my toes and uses his grip on my ankle to lift me higher, raising my ass off the bed.
My eyes widen.
His fingers dip inside me for more, but this time when he pulls them out of my pussy again, he trails them down to my ass, parting my cheeks, exposing my tiny hole to the world. His soaked index finger prods at my ass, and I gasp sharply.
He looks at me then, his eyes seeming to clear a little, as if he’s waking up from a trance. He tilts his head to one side, watching me, waiting.
He’s waiting for permission, I realize. I bite my lip, debating for a moment. Do I want to do this?
It’s Stone. He’s only ever made me feel incredible so far. I trust him. So I nod.
That finger presses harder at my ass, until, with a faint spike of pain, the tip glides into me. It
burns, at first. I take deep breaths, fighting the urge to clench tight around him, and try to make myself relax.
Once I figure out to watch his face, the light in his blue eyes as he grazes them across my body, relaxing becomes easier. His finger inches deeper and deeper into me, and suddenly there’s a widening, stretching sensation, and the pain doesn’t disappear exactly, but it floods over the top of my senses into pleasure. I moan faintly and twist my hands into the sheets to either side of me.
He slides another finger in to meet the first, and there’s more pain, but also a sense of being deeply full and a curl of pleasure as his fingers hit a hot spot deep inside me.
“Do you have any lube?” he whispers, and my heart starts to pound all over again in a mix of fear and excitement.
I shake my head, half-disappointed and half-relieved that I didn’t plan that far ahead. But he doesn’t even seem deterred.
“Oil?”
I bite my lip, thinking. “I’ve got coconut oil in the kitchen, but…”
“Get it.”
I swallow hard and have to fight back a soft yelp of protest when he pulls his fingers out of me. But I do as he says, sliding off the bed and padding across my dark apartment into the kitchen, rooting through the cabinets until I find it. Then I cross the threshold back into my bedroom, and it’s nerves all over again as I pass the jar to him.
He swings me onto the sheets again, laying me down beneath him, and kisses me slowly, deeply, even as he unscrews the jar and scoops out a handful. Warming the oil in his palms for a moment, he smears a handful on himself, then presses his other hand between my cheeks. His fingers enter me again, easier this time, and there’s a faint tingling, a sensation of warmth as the oil coats me too.
Without warning, he grabs both of my ankles, throwing them over his shoulders so I’m helpless on the bed before him. His hands spread my ass cheeks, and his hard cock presses right up against my entrance.
The pain flares again, even hotter and brighter this time. I gasp and dig my fists into the sheets, gritting my teeth as the tip of his cock pushes inside my ass. The burn echoes along my nerves, all the way up to my head and out to my limbs, until the tips of my fingers and toes itch with it, as he starts to thrust his way deeper. Small pushes at first, inching himself slowly deeper, deeper.
I’ve never felt so full, so stuffed to the brim. He’s big. So impossibly big. For a moment I panic that he won’t fit, but he keeps going, keeps pushing, and before long there’s a small releasing feeling as he drives all the way into me, his balls slapping my ass cheeks as he buries himself completely inside.
“How does it feel, Skye?” I know he’s asking if I’m okay, but I want to tell him more than that.
“It feels...” Searching for the right words, I meet his gaze in the low light from outside—the reflection of starlight now that the streetlights have shut off. “Like you’ve claimed every part of me.”