15. Lola

Lola

Devon Chambers has already surprised me in more ways than one.

First, when I agreed to come to his apartment with him, I expected him to bring me inside, immediately thrust his cock inside me, then roll over after five minutes and proclaim it the best sex of his life before telling me he had an early morning the next day.

What I was not expecting?

The fingering. Knowing what the clit was, where it was, and not to put his fingers directly on it. How he listened to my body and how watching him watching me made me so crazy with lust that I didn't even realize I was climaxing until it was halfway over.

How he hooked his fingers, clearly exploring, searching.

I'm not a one-night-stand kind of girl, but maybe I'm missing something.

Since Maisie has shared her plethora of experiences where she didn't even orgasm once before putting her clothes on and heading down to the street for a pizza-by-the-slice, I know I'm not, though.

And here I am, being carried into his bedroom, his cock pressed against my core through his pants as he makes it very clear that I am about to get another orgasm.

One of his hands is under my ass to stabilize me, and the other is on my back, pulling me toward him. He stops, pressing me against the wall and rocking his hips into me, his tongue sliding over mine, making me breathless.

My body is still shaking from the first climax when he throws me down on the bed. I look down and realize I'm still wearing my skirt, but when I put my hands on the waistband to push it off, Devon's hand stops mine.

"Keep it on," he murmurs. Then, his eyes glinting in the faint light from outside his window, he strips his clothes off and says, "Turn over."

My heart drops to my stomach, my pussy clenching. His standing there, ordering me around, is too much of a turn-on. My body obeys his command before I can even think of ignoring him.

If someone had asked me before this encounter, I would have described myself as bossy in bed. Now, I know that would be a lie. I'm on my elbows and knees with my ass in the air when Devon's hands grip my hips, and he lets out a low, animalistic sound, the tip of his cock teasing my entrance.

I expect him to slide inside me, but instead, I feel his hand again, parting me, finding my clit, circling there, and reigniting the nerves that thought they were done for the night. I drop my head to the mattress, moaning against the fabric there.

"Touch yourself," he instructs, and my hand moves automatically, taking over when his hands leave and return to my hips, kneading and squeezing there and rocking me back toward him like he's desperately trying to hold himself back from getting his dick inside me.

Finally, my body is quaking with need, but I want him inside me before I come. I need to know what it feels like to have his cock filling me.

"Devon," I moan, pushing my hips back against him and tipping my ass up toward him, trying to communicate what I want. "Please."

This seems to be enough for him because he growls and, holding me tight, guides his cock inside me.

I'm practically dripping wet, but he goes slowly anyway, teasing me, drawing out too soon, and holding back from the pace and pressure I'm craving until I'm bouncing my hips against him, trying to get him deeper inside me.

"Tell me what you want," he breathes, and I whimper when he pulls out again. I can feel his hands shaking against me with the effort of holding himself back. It's incredibly sexy and infuriating.

"Harder," I plead. "Faster."

Instantly, he complies, driving into me with such force that I have to turn my head sideways to avoid suffocating on the mattress. It makes stars burst behind my eyes, that delicious heat building in my core.

If he keeps going like this, it will be the best orgasm of my whole damn life.

Devon doesn't let up, thrusting into me again and again, and each time feels like it's deeper, fuller than the last. Everything about this sex—from his hands on my hips, squeezing my ass, and planted on my lower back—to the sounds he's making—low, guttural, needy—is bringing me to a dizzying height I've never reached before.

"Fuck, Devon," I groan, my voice ragged. "I'm going to—"

Before I can finish that sentence, my entire body erupts in pleasure, the zing of it shooting down my arms and legs, my stomach contracting. I moan loudly, and that, combined with the way my pussy walls are squeezing around him, makes Devon go off, too, his final thrusts harder and deeper than the rest, adding to my orgasm and drawing us even closer together.

A moment later, when we're side by side in the bed, breathing heavily, Devon reaches out, grabs my shoulder, and pulls me into him.

I move over slowly, confused by the gesture. This is a one-night stand. But maybe I don't know the rules? Maybe cuddling is allowed.

And it feels so, so good, so I cuddle in closer, molding my body to his and resting my head on his chest. I wait for him to say something about an early morning, to indicate that I should be leaving or heading out, but he doesn't.

Instead, he just nuzzles closer to me, pulling the comforter over both of us and tangling our legs together so I can feel his entire body against mine.

Out of the context of sex, it feels intimate, closer, and almost domestic. I sigh when he puts a hand on my hair, brushing it away from my face, and I fall asleep like that, pressed to him, drowning in his scent, and wondering what the hell we'll do when we wake up like this in the morning.