His voice broke. “Do…do you need me as much as I need you?”
I nodded, biting my lip.
A tear trickled down my cheek at how wrong and delicious this was. How drunk I was, knowing I was breaking him. How distraught I was, knowing I broke myself.
He groaned, biting his fist. His mouth opened then closed. Then black determination covered his face. “Then show me.”
It was as if someone else had taken control of my body. Just like in the cave, my soul had sunk deep, deep inside me until only basic, raw desires remained. Words were so hard. Comprehension even harder.
All I wanted, all I lived for was sex.
And he wanted me to show him how much I craved it?
Fine.
Trading the shirt buttons for my underwear, I yanked them down my legs, letting them puddle and reveal a glistening wet patch in the crotch. I moaned as cool air licked my throbbing flesh.
Another almost-orgasm grated my teeth together. My hand drifted between my legs.
“Stop.” His command was vicious and sudden. “Come here.”
I tripped and almost crawled to him, rubbery legged and in pain, pain, pain. He gathered me close as I fell into his arms.
He felt so good.
So strong.
So tall.
So male.
I pressed my face into his black t-shirt, inhaling him.
The delicious scent of man’s aftershave and books. A papery heavy smell that brought more tears to my eyes because it smelt so comforting. Comforting but sexual. Sex was my entire reason to exist.
“I can’t look at you.” He kissed the top of my head, his entire body vibrating. “I won’t be able to stop if I look.”
I cried out as a full-body attack made me buckle. I was losing myself. Losing everything. “Please…” I clutched his shirt. “Please.”
“You’re begging me now? You’re meant to be here for my son.”
I licked my lips, our mouths so close. “Please.”
His eyes snapped shut and he cupped my cheek. “You’re fucking killing me.”
You’ve already killed me.
His refusal was the sharpest knife, stabbing through each rib, puncturing my lungs until I couldn’t breathe, slashing at my chemically conquered desire.
“I need. I need—”
I arched in his hold as another crippling pain ripped through me. A release destined to butcher me unless I let it have me. Unless this man let me come before I splintered and pulverised.
“Okay…” he murmured. “I can’t look but…show me in other ways.” His hand trailed from my cheek and over my breast. “Let me feel you.”
I nodded frantically, unable to stand straight as his hand continued its downward journey and dipped beneath my skirt.
His fingers slid along my fevered thigh, creeping higher and higher until another gush of wetness sprang to welcome him.
When he finally touched me?
I screamed.
I had no embarrassment. I gave in to the violent, vice-like explosion.
“Ah, fuck.” His gentle touch became a swift impale. “Fuck!” Three fingers in one. A shaft of pleasure, piercing me and sending me skyward.
My core sucked greedily at his fingers. I bowed in his arms as he jerked me close and drove into me again and again. He let me ride him, grunting and groaning in time with my own rabid cries.
The orgasm lasted for too many bleeding heartbeats. By the time the last wringing wave left me trembling and useless, I begged to sleep. To close my eyes on this nightmare and wake up in my villa.
But…it wasn’t enough.
It was never enough.
I needed another one.
And another.
More.
More.
More.
The man removed his fingers, holding his hand up as if shocked at the coating of my desire. Thick threads of lust decorated him. Shame tried to make me pull away. Exhaustion and need won over.
I hung helpless in his embrace as he gawked at my wetness.
The blatant symbolism of how much I needed to be fucked made his knees quake. He tripped with me in his arms to the couch, and we tumbled onto the black leather. His body bounced on mine, our hips aligned, and I grunted as his hard cock wedged against my oversensitivity. “Do you know how much I’ve wanted you? How I’ve dreamed of you? How many times I’ve fucked my hand thinking of you?”
I moaned as he arched his hips, driving into me.
Finally.
Yes!
But then, he was gone.
Standing over me while I stayed strewn on the couch, he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with shaking hands. “I’ll show you what you do to me. How much I long to stick this so fucking far inside you.” Fumbling at his clothing, he pushed his jeans and boxer-briefs to his thighs, fisting a huge erection.
The head bled pre-cum, the veins on the sides looked angry enough to pop. He choked it as if he wished he could cut it off and remove the sinning desire in his heart. I understood that. I’d give anything to be free of my lust.
But…we could be free together.
Scrambling onto my knees on his couch, I couldn’t tear my eyes off his cock.