26. Adam

26

ADAM

M y entire body stiffens, my dick jerking against Natalie’s little hand.

I’ve made peace with the prospect of a quick one banged out in the ensuite here, followed by God knows how many in the privacy of my shower at home, so the vision of ejaculating over her beautiful, naked, sated body is the most torturous of mirages.

‘You just want to see my dick,’ I whisper in her ear, just to piss her off. Oddly, and by unspoken agreement, it seems the more obnoxious I am, the more it increases the heat between us.

‘Oh, please. I could have seen your dick the other night if I’d wanted to,’ she says, and the surprise of it has me rearing up onto my elbows.

‘What do you mean?’

She shoots me a smile I’m sure she intends as smug, but in truth the sight of her lying under me, flushed and as relaxed as I’ve ever seen her in my company, has me enraptured.

‘I know you came into my room the other night. I woke up and you were fast asleep, snoring with all these lancets beside you and the fucking Empire State Building in your pants.’

Shit. I had no idea. It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologise for what I know is a move that will have royally pissed her off, but I stop myself. She’s here, isn’t she?

‘And what did you think?’ I ask instead, pushing up onto my knees between her still-spread legs and putting my hand to my belt buckle. My poor cock is an aching, miserable bar, and her eyes are glued to it.

‘Beyond the fact that you were a crazy psycho with no boundaries who was far too obsessed with my glucose levels?’ she asks. It looks as though she’s talking to my dick and not to me.

‘Beyond the fact that I was concerned for your safety after you hypoed all over me, yes.’

I unbuckle my belt and undo my hook and eye and unzip my flies and palm my cock through my boxer briefs. Her greedy little stare doesn’t waver. Fuck, that feels amazing.

‘I didn’t know whether to ride it or push you off the bed,’ she says, crossing her hands behind her head. This sight of her beneath me is fucking spectacular, but her response has me barking out a surprised laugh.

So she was interested, on a physical level at least, even then. Jesus, that must have pissed her off. I’m astonished she didn’t act on her impulse to shove me to the floor.

I tug my shirt tails up, pushing down the waistband of my boxer briefs and extracting my sensitive cock as gingerly as if it was an unexploded grenade which, honestly, is not a bad analogy for how it feels right now.

‘So you didn’t take a look? You didn’t fancy a little peek?’

It appears she’s far too busy fixating on the sight of my hand moving slowly up and down my rigid length to have heard me. Her mouth drops open, which is unhelpful, because it makes me want to lean forward and ram the whole thing down her throat, if I’m honest.

‘You could have.’ I employ all my abs to help me lean to the left and pump some of the lube that’s on the bedside table. As I settle back in place, I close my eyes briefly at the sensory delight that is the cold gel on my hot, hard dick. It’s nowhere near as fine a home as Natalie’s cunt. Or ass. Or mouth. But having her greedy, horny little eyes on me is almost as good.

Almost.

‘You could have slipped one of those little hands in and had a feel,’ I continue, ‘or pulled my dick out. I would have loved waking up to that.’

‘Sounds like a pretty compelling reason not to have done it,’ she retorts, but I don’t miss the tilt of her hips in front of me. She wants me as badly as I want her.

I ignore her. ‘I wonder if you could even close your hands around it,’ I muse aloud, my own hand working harder. Precum is now weeping from my slit, and it seems I’m not the only one who notices, because when I glance up at her, she’s licking her lips.

‘Nobody likes a gloater, Adam,’ she manages, but it’s breathy. I bet she’s kicking herself.

I grin and lean forward, bracing on one arm so I can really let my dick have it while I hover over her. Alas, my performance will be less protracted than I’d like for optics. ‘It’s less awful if it’s true. Where can I come?’

She swallows. ‘My boobs. My stomach. Not my face—you haven’t earned it. And if you get it in my hair I’ll kill you.’

God, I love it when she’s like this. I had the impression from Gen when I spoke to her that Natalie was meek, if anything, but she’s not like that with me. Not at all. If I’m the only person she shows this side of herself to then I’m a lucky man.

Her excellent banter notwithstanding, the sight of her alone is enough to have my orgasm hurtling through me, fevered and urgent. She said I can come on her tits, and they’re so small, so perfect, almost flat in this position, her delicate nipples still furled and taut.

It’s an invitation like no other.

As I cross the finish line, that control I’ve been lauding snaps, and I let her have with my words what I can’t with my body.

‘Jesus fucking Christ, you are beautiful . Going to come all over these gorgeous little tits, but you bet I wish it was your cunt I was fucking. It was so tight, even with my fingers. Imagine how tight it would feel if I fucked you. Have you thought about it? Huh? Have you fantasised about how it would feel to take this cock? How full you’d feel?’

If her body is a vision, then her face is a picture, eyes wide and lips parted. She’s breathing almost as heavily as me as she takes in the sight of me looming over her and the filth of my words. God knows how beautiful she’d look trussed up and restrained for me.

Earning that level of trust from her is a privilege I can’t conceive of, so I focus instead on her eyes, her mouth, her tits, the soft, supple skin of her stomach, and the need in me makes my body shake and my scalp prick with sweat and my abs spasm, and veins are surely popping in my neck and forearms as I jack the everliving fuck out of myself, fucking my hand as violently as I can, panting like I’m running a bloody marathon as my body prepares to deliver the most staggering orgasm .

The heat that floods me as it does is like molten treacle coursing through my balls, my veins. I jerk and jerk and come, shooting rope after thick white rope over her hips and stomach and tits, painting her with the creamy evidence of my astonishing desire for her. Her gasps ring in my ears alongside the wet smacks as I brand her, and it’s beautiful.

I thrust and thrust into my hand until I’m spent and I’ve adorned Natalie with all my arousal. ‘God,’ I say, looking down at my creation. ‘Fuck.’

She watches in what appears to be stunned, breathless silence as I release my dick and use my fingertip to trace shapes on her skin with my cum. I swirl it in. I rub it over one dusky nipple and then the other, which has her moaning softly. I wish I could lower myself on top of her and kiss the breath out of her lungs while my seed lies sticky between us. I wish I could drag her into what I know to be an excellent shower next door.

But I know, even through my post orgasmic haze, that I’m on borrowed time here.

I’ve been on borrowed time all night. This has been a stolen moment, a fleeting portal to another kind of existence with Natalie.

My eyes flicker to hers, and I see peace in them. Satisfaction. She’s not embarrassed—yet. She hasn’t come to her senses—yet.

And I’d rather get her sorted out and into a cab before I see that hatred return to her eyes again.

‘Let’s get you cleaned up,’ I say, running cum-slicked fingertips down from her breastbone to her navel. ‘And I’m going to need a serious running commentary on how to get you back into that corset.’

Her little laugh tells me she appreciates my attempt at levity, however lame my joke might be .

But as I reluctantly extricate myself from between her legs and climb off the bed in search of a washcloth, I can’t help one last glance at her laid out like this on the sheets, covered in me.

I can’t help but commit it to memory.