I expected her to argue, but she lifted herself up on her elbows, still eyeing my hard-on as she took the glass from me.
My cock jerked under her inspection, and she sighed and gulped down the water as if she couldn’t wait for her reward.
She’d get it. Eventually.
She gave me back the glass and lay down.
“Legs open,” I said as I retook my position and began working my fingers and tongue. Her hands gripped the sheets, but without my prompting she released them and blew out a breath.
Good girl.
I took her to the edge three more times, but she didn’t complain. In fact, she seemed to see it as a challenge.
She sank into the mattress, her limbs heavy, and the glazed look in her eye suggesting she’d fully embraced my torture.
I worked harder and she tried to muffle her cries, but the rippling of her stomach and the curl of her toes gave away her pleasure. She finally gave up and exhaled on a loud moan. “Beck,” she cried. “I’m going to come.”
“Keep breathing deeply and come for me.”
She shot me a panicked look as if she were afraid of what her orgasm might do to her.
“You’re going to be okay,” I said as the convulsions in her body began to spread. I could almost see her orgasm crawl up her body. Her nipples peaked, her back arched, and silently, she reached for me—in reassurance or need?
I had no idea but something in my gut stirred.
I crawled up her body, and she circled her arms around my waist as her orgasm enveloped her.
“You okay?” I asked as she recovered. I rolled to my side and she came with me, hooking her leg over mine.
“Um, yeah. That was . . . I don’t know. Intense. I’ve never . . . I mean . . . intense.”
I chuckled. “You enjoyed my torture.”
“I’m not sure about the torture bit. It was a challenge but the orgasm . . . It was like the mother of all climaxes. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
It was no less than she deserved.
“We’re just warming up.”
“I’m plenty warm,” she said as she pushed herself up on her elbows then straddled me.
She was deliciously wet, immediately coating my cock in her juices. “Where did you learn that shit?” she asked as she moved her hips forward and back. “I mean, I expected you to be a little more . . .”
I tucked my hand under my head as I waited to hear her explain her misconceptions of me.
“I don’t know. Selfish. Impatient.”
“You’ve clearly been fucking the wrong guy.”
“Apparently,” she said, pressing her palms against my chest. “I mean, there’s only ever been Matt. I guess I don’t have a lot of experience.”
Jesus, on top of it all, she was at the wedding of the only guy she’d ever slept with. Every time I thought I understood how difficult this week was for her, I found out something else.
“Well, now there’s me.” She deserved the best sex that life had to offer. And I couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that I’d been the man who showed her how good it could be.
I flipped her to her back and grabbed a condom from my wallet on the bedside table where I’d left it. I didn’t want to wait a moment longer.
The more I got to know Stella, the more I wanted to know. When she’d first had her freak out and I’d spent the day with her, listening to her reel off information, all I’d wanted was to make her feel better so she didn’t bail on this wedding. But now, I wanted to know her. I wanted to know things about her that were completely unnecessary to fake a relationship in front of strangers. I wanted to get inside her head. Inside her body. I wanted to feel this woman.