Beg for It(20)

This thing she wants, this thing she’s been dreaming about for a long time even before she knew it was actually possible…if she can’t ask it of Reese, she can’t imagine who she’ll ever be able to ask it of.

His hand strokes down the back of her hair. “What kind of something?”

She pushes upward to look at his face. “I can show you.”

Most of the time she can read Reese’s face as easily as though he has a ticker tape describing his thoughts scrolling over his forehead. Not right now. His gaze has gone shuttered, expression beyond neutral. Blank.

Then his brow furrows. His lips press together. He gives a single, sharp nod.

“Show me.”

She isn’t certain her legs will hold her when she gets up from the bed and goes to the closet, where she’d put the box on the top shelf so it could stare at her and mock every time she pushed it to the side to get at her stack of winter sweaters. Everything about her feels numb, so that she might stumble on unfeeling toes. She can feel him watching her as she walks the few short steps. Watching the way her body moves as she pushes up on her tiptoes to pull down the box. She knows he loves the way her hair hangs down just above the dimples at the small of her back, and normally she’d have swung her hips to give him a little extra show, but now all she can manage is to keep herself steady as she turns, box in hand.

Reese has pushed up, sitting. His cock hasn’t softened. If anything, the anticipation has seemed to make him impossibly harder, thicker. It’s started to flush that telltale dark red she’s learned to recognize and crave.

Confidence, Corinne thinks. She owns this. She will ask him, and he might say yes or he might say no, but at least she can ask him. This is Reese, her good boy—no matter what he answers her, she doesn’t need to worry about him thinking she’s some kind of freak or sexual deviant.

Does she?

For the most part, Corinne has never worried about her preferences. She knows what she likes and what she wants, and if previous lovers helped her hone those interests, Reese has been the one to expand them. To help her explore. Hesitating now, she understands more than ever why Reese has often seemed more reluctant. When you open yourself up to someone about your deepest desires, it becomes so much easier to be afraid they will reject you.

She opens the box and takes a deep breath, holding it out as she waits for his reaction.

“Oh,” is all he says.

She closes the box, preparing to back away and return it to the shelf. No, to put it straight into the trash. Already the heat of embarrassment is creeping up her throat into her cheeks; there have been few times with him when she hasn’t felt in control, but all the times when he must’ve felt this way are circling around now to bite her.

“No, don’t do that.” Reese reaches for her. “Come here.”

She does, pressing one knee to the bed to hold the box out to him. He opens it and sets aside the lid. He lets his fingers trail over the smooth rubber dildo and matching harness, then the bottle of lube nestled beside the toys.

“You want to f*ck me. With this.”

She nods. “Very much.”

He closes his eyes for a second or so, head bowing slightly. When he speaks, it is in a voice so quiet she can’t hear him. His uncomfortable cough seems enough of an answer, though. When she starts to withdraw, he catches her wrist.

Again, as before, not to stop her but to urge her on.

“Yes,” he says. “Please.”

That simple answer, the “please,” the way his eyes meet hers without cutting away—she is completely lost to him in that moment. And forever will be, Corinne thinks as she leans to take his mouth with hers. He has agreed to give himself to her, and she is going to take him.

“I don’t know…I’m not sure…” Reese adds when the kiss breaks and their foreheads press together. “You’ve done this before?”

“No, honey. Never.”

He grins and looks relieved. “No?”

“No. You’re the first. I’ll be careful.” She slides her hand between them to grip his cock, still hard as iron. She passes her thumb over the head to feel the wetness and revels in how he shudders at the caress. “We’ll go as slow as you want.”

His rough kiss takes her by surprise, and more so when he pushes her back onto the bed to roll on top of her. His belly presses her clit, urging a gasp from her. He kisses her so hard she’ll be bruised, later. The tip of his prick slips inside her, not from any effort but because his body fits so naturally with hers that in this position, that is where his cock wants to be. It goes no further than that. Reese keeps himself from sinking all the way into her by pushing on the bed with his hands.

Corinne waits to see if he’s going to move. She can tilt her hips. He’ll be balls-deep inside her in a second. Then there will be no stopping it—they will move together until they both come. She can let him have this, if he’s going to take it. She can let them both slide away from what she’s asked from him and what he moments ago declared he would give.

Reese doesn’t f*ck into her. He kisses her again. He shifts to let the tip of his cock slide over her clit in a few steady, even strokes that have her craving to be filled. His tongue strokes hers. Then he moves from her mouth to her throat, pausing to sample each of her nipples until she cries out and tangles her hand in the back of his hair.