The First Taste(68)

“Normally, I’d make you wait for your climax,” he says, panting. “But the more relaxed you are when I f*ck your ass, the better.”

He takes me right to the edge with his unyielding thrusts and then shoves me over so I’m climaxing mercilessly. At one point, I can’t even hold myself up anymore, and I fall onto the mattress, spent.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, slowing down. “I didn’t even have to put you into position.” Still hard as a rock, he slides out of me while working the plug free. I writhe underneath him with the strangeness of being deflated, emptied after I was so full. He squeezes more lube between my cheeks. “Feels so goddamn amazing to be back inside you,” he says. “I’m barely keeping it together. Don’t worry, I won’t last long.”

Because I’m so turned on, my instinct is to tell him it’s okay if he lasts until the sun rises and sets again, as long as I can come a third, fourth, fifth time—but what if I’m not able to handle it more than a few seconds? What if I can’t reach another climax because it hurts? For a split second, unable to see his face, I’m terrified he’ll be so far gone, he won’t be able stop.

“You must be nervous,” he says. “I’ve never heard you this quiet.”

As soon as I hear his voice, my panic subsides. This is Andrew. He hasn’t given me any reason not to trust him. If he had, I wouldn’t be here at his mercy. “I’m ready,” I say.

“I’ve got you,” he says, somehow knowing what I need to hear. “Remember, if it’s too much . . .”

“I’ll stop you.”

He massages my anus, inserting a couple fingers again, loosening me up even more. Even though I want to stay where I am, spent and wobbly, he positions me back onto all fours. By the time he’s pressed up against me and pushing inside, my face burns hot. This feels wrong—forbidden but also physically wrong. A cock like his is too big for such a small hole. It sends a thrill down my spine that I’m doing something new with him, something so wicked, so outside my comfort zone. Andrew pulls me apart, probing me—huge, foreign, determined. He enters me so slowly, it must take every ounce of his restraint as he slides out a little and back in, slightly deeper than before, breaking through my barriers.

He skates his hand up my back and grips my shoulder, firm but comforting. “Inhale.”

I do what he says, as if I’d forgotten something so basic. Maybe I had.

“Now exhale,” he instructs.

I blow out a long breath, and it moves through my entire body.

“And repeat. Just like that,” he says. “Like when you do yoga.”

“Yoga?” I can’t help snickering, and after a second, he laughs with me, deep and reassuring. I relax around him, and he slips deeper, causing me to gasp.

“Tell me when you want it,” he says with a few short, shallow thrusts.

If his plan is to go so slow that I get more impatient than afraid, it’s working. “I want it.”

“No,” he says, massaging the base of my neck. “Tell me when you really f*cking want it. When you need it.”

I nod, and remind myself to unclench. His words alone loosen anything I’ve been holding on to. With a control I can feel in his every movement, he works me open. Soon, I’m taking him all the way, morphing from anticipating each intrusion to craving it. My body accepts more and more of him. After two orgasms already, I should be sated, but they seem to have made me more feverish. I hunger for another one like I’ve been on the verge of it for months. I want to know how good it can be to let him loose.

“Now,” I beg. “I can’t wait anymore. Make me come.”

He doesn’t question me, just pulls out almost all the way and adds more lube. He grabs my hips in both hands and eases in, slow but firm, all the way to the hilt. The pinch of pain from taking him all at once provokes a guttural noise from the back of my throat.

In response, he reaches around to play with my clit. “Help me make you feel good, babe,” he says. “Stay steady.”

I move down onto my forearms to brace myself, keeping my lower half propped up for him. He moves faster. If he was taking my ass before, now he claims it, fingering my * at the same time, spreading my wetness around my clit, dividing my attention. My body shudders, overwhelmed, sucking his fingers deeper while both fighting against and accepting his cock.

I pinpoint the exact moment he lets go—he begins to slip and slide out of me, sloppy, no longer self-possessed as he digs his fingers bruisingly into one hip. His hand between my legs gets frantic, searching, vibrating, plunging. Just sensing his control fall away makes me crazy. I push back, and his answering groan is strong and primal, not only filling my ears but rattling my body.

“That’s it,” Andrew grunts, f*cking me through the first wave of my orgasm. “Come on, Amelia.”

I dissolve into it, breaking piece by piece, with no choice but to submit to the intensity of my climax. As I finish, Andrew closes his front over my back, pushing even deeper into me as he breathes hotly into my hair. He doesn’t last long in that position and within seconds, he rips at the comforter with two desperate fists and explodes inside me.

He’s out of breath, muttering inaudibly into my ear over and over. My back, damp with sweat, sticks to his chest. He drops his forehead to my shoulder and with a few wet kisses on my sensitive skin, I shudder.