Addicted After All(45)

I want to see how hard he is. I want him inside of me. Nothing else computes in my brain.

His head dips out of sight, and I feel his tongue, my legs twitching in response. He tightens his hold on one of them, still firmly in his care.

Oxygen whooshes from my lungs as he sucks and licks, caressing the most sensitive of nerves with his mouth. My eyes roll back, and no sound leaves as I come. Higher than high.

I don’t even sense my body descending; I stay suspended in this climax. More. The response is normal for me.

I always want more.

And Lo knows this silent plea.

He gives me oral almost every day, but I recognize the difference the moment something hard presses against my other entrance. Oh my God. Please, yes.

My eyes burn with tears. “Lo,” I cry. Pleasepleaseplease let this be true and not in my mind. I constrict in excitement and impulse, and then I wince at the pressure. Oh God.

His lips leave me, and I groan into the comforter.

“Relax, love,” he reminds me.

We’ve had anal sex enough that I should know not to tighten so much, but my body responded on its own. Lo massages my thigh again, stirring my arousal. My mind is a mixer right now, blended with lust and longings.

Our doctor advised against anal sex while I’m pregnant, a restriction that’s left me more than bummed. Which is why I ask, “Are you using your fingers?”

“No,” he says. And his eyes carry the answer.

My eyes widen, my jaw unhinging. Sex toys. Oh my God. I tingle all over, imagining something long and hard inside of me, even though it’s most likely just a small plug. “Are we allowed?” I whisper.

“I asked your Ob/Gyn. She said yes.”

“Don’t move,” I blurt out. “Or I mean, move but…don’t take it out, okay?” Fear surfaces—fear of this ending too soon.

“Shhh, Lil,” he says. “Breathe slowly.”

I can feel my ribcage jutting out with these sporadic inhales. I lie back more and shut my eyes. He’s going to fill me both places, at the same time. It’s a craving that I’ve wanted satiated for a while.

I try to relax my muscles, and his kisses begin again, soft and sweet, building up my need. I throb for a harder, deeper entry. And then he pushes on the toy, the pressure and sensations blind me. Yes. “Lo,” I plead.

He rises to his feet, and seconds pass as he steps out of his jeans and black boxer-briefs. He’s harder than I even pictured, erect and as wanting as me. He pauses while I stare fixatedly at his long cock. Inside now, I mentally command. Inside now.

“Lil,” he chokes, his arousal sweeping over his features.

I am full behind. I can’t even imagine being full in the front too. I just haven’t had it in so so long. Years. “Harder,” I murmur. He hasn’t even pushed into me yet.

He’s too far away to hold. He’s standing with my legs wrapped around his waist, my bottom off the mattress, while I’m lying. So I clutch the comforter in one hand and my breast with the other.

“Harder,” I plead, his cock right there. I’m too exhausted from climaxing once already to thrust forward into him. He has most of the control, and that thought bridges me to a hotter, sweltering place. “Lo.”

And then he pounds right into me, filling me hard. I am a goner. My body quakes, and he thrusts in melodic, deep rhythms that bring me to a new planet. A high-pitched gasp escapes my lips every time he slams in.

He rests one knee on the edge of the bed, and then another, climbing onto it and pulling my body up towards the pillow. His forearm sets beside my head, and he kisses the outside of my lips. Then he says, “Open.”

I understand his request. I open my eyes, and he stares right into me as he thrusts. I can’t corral the noises I make. I’m happy he’s closer, nearer, so I can clutch onto his back and hold him to me.

I clench so hard that he only can go in and not out. It’s a long-lasting euphoria. My head lolls and my eyes flutter as the high hits me. My spine arches, toes curling. A shiver runs through the length of my legs and all the blissfulness in the world rains down on me.

I feel like I’ve just experienced sex and all its glory for the first time.

A sheen of sweat coats his shoulders, chest and forehead, our breath ragged. He is grinning, his eyes full of knowing.

Yes, Loren Hale.

You are enough for me.





{ 15 }

LILY CALLOWAY