Restraint (Xcite Romance) (6 page)

‘Come here,’ I tell him. ‘Come over here.’

Which is pretty lame, I know. But at the moment it’s all I can manage. I’m starting to feel that thrum between my legs again – so soon after that immense orgasm! – and the longer he stands there, the worse it gets.

Thankfully, however, he listens to me. He crawls over the bed to where I’m still sprawled, that thick, now ever so slightly threatening cock bobbing between his legs, like a cudgel. And of course once he does so, all I can think about is how that thing’s going to feel. My last boyfriend was half his size and I sometimes had a little trouble, so God only knows what this is going to be like.

God only knows where he’s going to get a condom that fits, for that matter.

I’ve got some in the bedside drawer due to a few misguided hopes about meeting a hunk in a bar somewhere, but in all of those dreams about said hunk, he was never blessed with a king size cock. Typically he just had a nice, normal one, and we had nice, normal sex on a pretty coverlet, instead of Artie wrestling with a piece of rubber for half an hour before finally, finally squeezing himself into it.

Which sounds awful, I know, but strangely it just makes the whole thing more exciting. It’s like standing at the top of a waterslide, just waiting and waiting for your turn to go down. By the time he’s done I’m breathing so hard it’s entirely possible I’m going to pass out, and he doesn’t look much better.

Of course he doesn’t. I’ve had one orgasm. He’s had zero. He’s just shoved himself into something snug and clasping, and now I’m looking at him like he’s a slab of prime rib. I’m only surprised he hasn’t passed out from arousal, though I swear he contains himself admirably.

Until I say something I don’t really mean to, and then everything he’s just contained kind of spills out all over the place.

‘Yeah, that’s it,’ I tell him. ‘Fill my cunt with that big dick.’

Then he just sort of … melts all over me. Long before he’s actually done what I’ve suggested, I can feel him shaking. I can feel all of these little tremors going through his body, when he reaches between my legs and slides two eager fingers through my slit.

All of which is arousing in itself, without him telling me don’t, don’t, you’re gonna make me come saying stuff like that.

He said come, I think. He said that word and he’s going to do it, just because I’m squirming and moaning and talking dirty. Which of course just makes me do it all the more.

‘Cunt,’ I say, and then I pause, as though considering – even if doing so proves extremely hard. He’s currently working those two thick fingers into my embarrassingly slick pussy, and it feels … oh God it feels incredible. I don’t care how quickly he thinks he’s going to do this thing – I’m going to do it faster. ‘Is that the word you don’t want me to say?’

‘Yeah, of course … ohhh jeez, you’re so wet.’

Is it weird if him saying the most mundane of sex-words excites me? First come, now wet. Any second he’s going to say jizz in your ass and I’m going to spontaneously have an orgasm.

‘Am I? You like feeling my hot, slick cunt?’

‘Don’t say cu – just … just hold on.’

‘Were you almost going to say it then, baby? Come on, come on. Say it to me. Say cunt while you fuck me there.’

His eyes roll closed, but he doesn’t stop what he’s doing. In fact, I think he’s kind of hoping I’ll climax again just from the fingering he’s giving me. And if I’m being honest, he’s not far wrong. Hell – he’s as good at this as he was at eating my pussy, and after a second of that rough pressure he’s putting on my G-spot, I actually tell him as much.

Only it comes out: Grrorrganurgle. 

Instead of anything resembling actual words and sentences. I have to just tell him with one hand on his back and one at his cock, pulling at both until he gives in and takes away that delicious pressure.

Then replaces it with another sort altogether. Ohhhh, it’s definitely another sort. He feels even bigger than I thought he would, and better than that – he talks to me, while trying to work that immense cock of his into my tight little hole. He actually says the words: you’re so little, which I just add to the list of things I shouldn’t find arousing to hear. 

I even find it arousing to see him straining to get inside me, the look on his face like someone simultaneously dying and coming alive with pleasure. It’s only when he finally, finally manages to ease the head of his cock through all of my slickness and into my clenching hole, that one wins out over the other.

I think we both gasp. I definitely make a kind of strangled sigh, at the very least. And once he starts moving – faster than I expect, and oh so thankfully rougher, too – I can’t hold back. I just let out every moan that’s been building in my body, as said body tries and fails to tighten around the cock that’s filling me.

Yeah – that’s right. It tries and fails. I guess there’s just nowhere for my pussy to go, when it attempts to clamp around the thick length sliding back and forth inside it – though Artie sure seems to appreciate the effort. He jerks as though shot the second I do it, and when I do it again he tells me don’t, just like he did a moment ago.

Though obviously for different reasons. The last one was for my filthy mouth, now it’s for my filthy, greedy body, as I do my best to feel every single inch of the thing filling me up. I even find myself digging my heels into his ass, just to get a little more pressure…just a little more of that sweet, sweet sensation, that makes me think of flowers blooming in my belly, or something similarly weird.

And then it happens, and those thoughts no longer feel quite as weird as they did. Something just unfurls really low down in my gut, unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Other boyfriends got me there by putting a finger on my clit or maybe pressing just close enough – of course they did – but never this. Not this crazily-intense sensation, that makes me claw at his back and grunt without sound, everything clenching all at once – hard enough to force all the words I can no longer say out of his mouth.

‘Ohhhh are you coming?’ he asks me. ‘Oh God Mallory, I can feel you doing it around my cock. I can feel you – that’s it, baby. Fuck yourself on me.’

Though I’m guessing he only says that last one due to the shock of me doing just that. I’m clinging to him like a monkey, panting with the effort of ramming myself down on his now insanely hard cock. My hands are making actual lines on his back, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

He’s getting to that place, I think – like he did before, in the car. He’s saying dirty things to me and his face has gone all soft and open, and when I kiss his mouth, the moan he gives me disappears all the way down inside my body.

Feels almost as good as the orgasm did – as do his hands, gripping me too tightly, suddenly. He’s pulling me onto his cock, I know he is, and I’m not sure which is better: the sensation it provokes, or how sweet it is to see him get to this not caring sort of place. He even tells me when his orgasm starts to take hold of him, in a way I never thought I’d hear from him.

‘I’m gonna spurt,’ he tells me, all guttural and rude and sharp-eyed. Fingers digging into my ass and my hip, mouth suddenly wet on the side of my face. Ohhh yeah, he’s definitely past caring – and it’s glorious. It’s like getting fucked by 25 years of repression, all of it spilling out of him all at once in one long, glorious race to pleasure.

‘Is that OK? Is it OK?’ he asks me, but seriously … what does he think I’m going to say? I can hardly wait for him to go off inside me, because this time I’m about to get an absolutely glorious close up of his face, as he does it. 

I even hold him there just to make sure, while he does a series of amazing, arousing things like biting his lip and flushing from throat to forehead and ohhh, he’s definitely going to make some loud noises. I can feel them starting all the way up from his jerking hips and his sweat-slicked back, until finally they’re just bursting out of him.

‘Ah, Mallory,’ he tells me, followed by some truly magnificent moans and groans and then…and then something else, too. Something else that I can’t quite face, right at this current moment, because I’m still shuddery from my orgasm and most of me just wants to relish the feel of him, as he goes over.

I think I can actually make out the way his cock swells, as he comes. And I definitely know so, when he pulls me in tight for the last few spasms of his orgasm. It feels like I’m being shoved from the inside out, and it brings with it a last little shiver of sensation.

One that almost makes me forget the words he said. The good good words that seem impossible, after only a week – though really it’s been more for him, hasn’t it? I can tell it has, because oh that I love you seems to come so easily, to him.

How funny, that it never seems to do so, for me.

Epilogue

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