Sleeping with the Enemy (An Enemies to Lovers Collection)

I let out a loud groan, and she gasps as my cock slides straight to her entrance. She mewls and grinds against me, lifting her hips higher. My head feels like it’s on fire, and so does my dick, though I honestly don’t know how I’m going to fit in Esme because I feel like I’ve been holding back since the year nineteen oh two, and I wasn’t even born then. Perhaps I unknowingly invented a sex time machine just now because that’s exactly what it feels like. My balls feel like it’s been a century and then some.

“It’s alright,” Esme encourages me. Her hands curl around my shoulders, gripping them tightly. Then, she wriggles below me, and her hips rise straight to meet my dick. “You’re not going to hurt me. Well, maybe a little, but that’s alright.”

One more wriggle, and I’m going to be a goner. So before I can lose it, I close my eyes, grind my teeth, clench my nuts, and slide into Esme.

Cave of mystical wonders. World of mythical creatures. Tight land of holy fucknuts.

Any and all of those could apply to this pivotal moment. I just barely slide the tip in, but Esme groans, and I freeze. It’s a good groan, though, because Esme starts wriggling and thrusting on her own. Or maybe I’m the one thrusting? At this point, I can’t tell what’s going on because I’m two seconds away from the biggest blackout on the planet. I start making sounds—animal sounds and other sounds I’ve never made before. I think I might also be panting too. Or did the dog somehow get in here?

Esme is so tight. She’s so tight, so perfect, and so taking me to another planet while taking my balls to the stratosphere for an entirely different reason. I imagine us on a rocket ship together as I slide further into her—inch by inch and just a little more with each movement. Bacon bits, she’s so tight that I can feel her walls. They’re soft and tight, squeezing me hard as her belly trembles. I can feel everything. Her nipples scrape against my chest when she lifts her body and clings to me, and with every move she makes, her tight passage clenches and unclenches around my shaft, which I can also feel.

Before I can move, Esme takes me all the way by wriggling under me. Although it doesn’t seem possible for her to take in all of me without me even thrusting once, well, she somehow manages to do it, the same way nuts can just about jump straight into a person’s throat.

I’m unclear about who is moving or thrusting, but somehow, it’s happening. I’m going deeper, and I think I’m thrusting because my dick is now vibrating, throbbing, and doing things that aren’t normal dick things. Esme is practically strangling my dick, which makes it want to fight back nicely, so I let it happen just a little with small, controlled thrusts.

“Dear, god. Dear bacon legs. I mean bacon thighs, bacon chicken. Wait, no, I mean bacon bits,” Esme pants. Her nails dig into my shoulders, and her hips drive up into mine.

This might be missionary style, but it isn’t any granny’s missionary.

“More,” Esme pants. “Yessss, that’s it. Yes, oh my sweet baby carrots, celery, regular carrots, peppers.”

“Salad,” I groan in response. I liked salad before, but now it’s my friend for life.

“Mushrooms, onions, sautéed garlic,” Esme chants.

“Keep talking dirty,” I groan again as I thrust harder.

“Croutons, cheese, and bacooooonnnn bittttssss…”

Esme’s walls clench around me like a vice, and just in case I didn’t realize what her bacon bits wail was, I’m treated to a front-row seat of the most spectacular climax in the world. Her body violently shakes while she clings to me, and she pants, whimpers, and thrashes her head as she comes. Together, our bodies buck, dip, ride, and glide deliciously against each other, creating a beautiful and memorable rhythm.

Her cave of mysterious wonders turns into this wonderful, ever-loving sort of strangulating machine as I continue pushing into her, and before long, I let out a sound that’s almost like a wild bear waking up out of hibernation. In mere seconds, I’m coming too, which might be bad because I didn’t ask if it was okay to release inside her. So, I try and pull out, somehow managing to hang on until the very last, ball-bursting second. I make it, and it’s a good thing too because while I’m coming on Esme’s stomach, my body does things I can’t control. Like going to other dimensions, seeing other worlds, and pretty much inventing a time machine for real. Geez, is that a portal I see through my hazy eyes?

I can barely keep myself upright or rooted on earth as Esme continues shaking beneath me. We both make sounds like we’re dying but also not dying. At this rate, we could quite possibly be rebirthing or something, for all we know.