“Seriously, I don’t know what to do with any of that.”
“Just making sure you’re aware that I’m raising the stakes,” I tell him, and without warning, I push myself all the way over him.
His upper body comes up, and I’ve got both hands on the bed now, one on each side of him, and I’m just grinding myself against his base, feeling every inch of him inside me.
I move my hands from the bed to his chest, supporting myself with his body and pressing my breasts together in the process.
It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone, and I’ve lost some weight due to the last few rounds of chemo, but I still have the strength to hold him down against the bed while I ride his thick erection.
“Not bad,” I tell him, almost breathless.
“Lean back,” he instructs.
I raise my eyebrow to him again, but I lean back, positioning my knees a little further up the side of his body as I do.
Now, what I’m hoping for here — yep, he’s massaging my clit.
“Good boy,” I utter, closing my eyes and just taking in the feeling of him in and against the most sensitive parts of me. He’s drawing little shapes over my clit with the pad of his thumb, and I’m just trying to think straight as I’m catapulted into the kind of ecstasy I’ve been without for so long.
“You’re beautiful,” he tells me, his voice soft but eager for more.
“Thanks,” I whisper, and I rest my hands on his upper thighs, leaning back further and giving him even more access to my clit.
His hand is still now as I flip my hips back and forth, faster and faster as that feeling grows inside me, taking me over from the inside out. In what feels like an instant, the levee breaks and my whole body’s quivering at his continued, masterful touch.
I’m hardly aware of the fact that, when I can catch a modicum of breath, I’m moaning to the point of a near scream, the sound ricocheting off the walls of my room. My arms nearly give out beneath me, and I’m moving my hips now only in jagged movements as I continue to come so hard. When the feeling starts to recede, I’m only that much more determined to get it back again.
“Damn,” he says, smiling.
“That’s what I say,” I answer, nearly out of breath. “You’ve got quite the cock, there.”
“Why thank you,” he says, laughing.
I’m sweating, and I can feel my skin flush as I rest my body against his now. His arms move around me and he pulls me so close to him as he pushes himself in and pulls himself out of me with renewed vigor.
I kiss his chest and try to think of something witty to say as he lifts his knees, getting his feet under him for more leverage as he fucks me in the sweetest way.
The only problem is, I’m losing energy fast.
I’ve been off the chemo long enough to have regained most of my strength, but going through round after round has taken a lot out of me, and that’s not the kind of thing that just comes back after a couple of weeks.
I want to keep going, but my body’s gone as far as it can go right now.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I’ve got to stop.”
He stops and pulls himself out of me, asking me if I’m all right.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, “just out of juice. Tell you what, though.”
“What?” he asks as he runs his fingertips over my back, looking with sweet concern into my eyes.
“If you give me 10 minutes and a cup of yogurt, I’m pretty sure I can hand pop your top, no problem,” I tell him.
He smiles and kisses my forehead, and even though I’m starting to see spots, I couldn’t be happier.
Chapter Twelve
The Trial