51. Adam

51

ADAM

T here’s no going back from this dynamic.

Nat, so prettily on her knees for me, sucking my cock so well.

Nat, pliant and shuddering and greedy on my lap as I spanked her arse and finger fucked her little pink cunt.

And now, Nat, a post-orgasmic heap of long, pale limbs and crumpled red silk, lying face-down on the bed as I grow impossibly harder beneath her.

‘Roll over, sweetheart,’ I say gently to her after removing my fingers, and she does so with what feels like the effort required by a body leaden with pleasure. I gaze down at her flushed face, her smudged mascara, glassy eyes.

She’ll do very nicely indeed.

Nope, there’s definitely no going back from here.

‘Clean up the mess you made on my fingers like a good girl,’ I say, sliding them into her mouth. Her eyes widen, but she sucks obediently until I remove them.

‘How do you feel?’ Her dress is twisted, its skirt still bundled up around her waist, panties down around her knees. I smooth a hand up her thighs and over the neat strip of dark hair on her pubic bone, and she shivers.

‘Like I want you to put me over your knee every single hour of every day from now on,’ she slurs, and I laugh. I’m a missionary of the Church of Corporal Punishment, my beautiful, sensual girlfriend my newest and loveliest recruit.

I’m desperate to push inside her while she’s like this—swollen and sated and glowing. I wrap an arm around her shoulders and another under her knees and manage to get us both to standing.

‘Turn around, sweetheart,’ I tell her, unzipping her dress at the back as soon as she does and letting it slide down her body and to the ground. Her bra follows, and I get down on one knee to tug her panties the rest of the way down until she’s naked. I pause for a moment on bended knee, transfixed by the sight of her before me, by this perfect bottom, its cheeks still pleasingly flushed from my ministrations.

With a hand lightly on each of her hips, I lean forward and kiss each pinked-up cheek in turn. As I rise, I trace the delicate bumps of her spinal column with my lips until I’m standing behind her and burying my face in her neck as my dick flexes against her lower back.

Ravenous as I am to be inside her body, I’m loath to sully a moment that her trust in me has distilled to an essence of such perfect purity. I slide my arms around her waist, and she crosses her own, pressing her palms to my forearms.

‘You are the most exquisite woman I have ever met,’ I confess into the silken sanctuary of her neck. ‘The most exquisite, and the most extraordinary.’ She says nothing, but turns in my arms, her mouth finding mine as though she needs my kiss to set a seal of truth on my words.

I know how she feels. Nothing about the way we are, the path we’ve forged, feels believable .

As our kiss amps up from exploratory to desperate, this glut of unfamiliar emotions, as enthralling as they are unsettling, morphs into blinding physical need.

‘I need you on your hands and knees,’ I say hoarsely against her mouth, my hands doing laps of her back and arse. ‘Face the headboard.’

She smiles. With the way my dick is painting her skin with precum, she can’t be surprised I need this outlet.

‘Of course, sir,’ she says, turning away from me, and it strikes me that what I’m about to do to her will mirror that first night in here with that other woman—Rose, wasn’t it?

I almost laugh at how discomfited I felt when I realised I was fantasising about Nat when I fucked her. She seemed a lovely woman, but God knows, the pleasure of watching my naked girlfriend crawl up that bed is akin to one’s first view of a real Monet after knowing only poor counterfeits.

This is what I want. Who I want. Her pale skin and now-messy dark ponytail, the curve of her spine and the narrowness of her waist and the vulnerability with which she exposes all her most sacred holes to me in this position is a veritable gift. She’s a madonna, and I intend to show her just how she should be worshipped.

I shed every last item of clothing with impressive speed and climb onto the bed, nudging her legs apart with my knee and closing the space between us, smoothing one hand over her hip and arse as I wrap the other around my cock and swipe it experimentally through her still-slick pussy. Nope. No need for lube here.

‘Nat, Nat, Nat,’ I murmur. ‘What a very soaked girl you are.’

She groans. ‘Hurry up, for god’s sake.’

‘Whatever you say, princess.’ My tone may be amused, but I’m deadly serious. Whatever this beautiful woman wants, she gets. Especially if it’s my dick buried deep inside her body.

My fingers flex on her hip as I push in. It’s awe-inspiring, every single time we do this. But to be sinking into her when she’s just let me spank her, when the clean smacks of my hand have echoed through the air and she’s come all over my fingers, is another privilege entirely. I push my way in, grunting and sweating, revelling in the luxurious way her plush inner walls blanket my length, welcoming it even as she shifts to accommodate me.

I’m in, and here’s that quiet moment of stillness and awe again before I move, as we marvel at how perfectly we fit. How right and good and elemental it feels in a way I’m not sure anything has before.

‘You ready, sweetheart?’ I ask in a voice more cracked with emotion than I intended, and I’m rewarded with the turn of her head and the swish of her ponytail and the astonishing radiance of her smile as she takes in the sight of me, reared up proudly behind her, primed to take her.

‘More than ready.’

I roll my hips and grin at the breathy sound she makes. This is the best fucking game in the world.

‘Tell me how it feels.’

‘So full.’ She drops her head back down, her shoulders flexing as I drag my length slowly, slowly out. ‘And so— God , so intense.’ A pause. ‘Emotionally, I mean. It’s a lot.’

Yes. Yes it is.

‘I know.’ I smooth a hand down her back. ‘I feel it too, my sweet, sweet girl. Let me show you.’

I slam back into her and lose myself in staggering pleasure: the tease of my flesh dragging against hers; the sight of my hard, angry dick disappearing inside her over and over; the impossibly delicate architecture of her beautiful little body.

The climax to which she brought me with her perfect lips around me just minutes ago is forgotten, a ghost of pleasure past, the promise of the delight to come the only thing upon which my hungry body and my soaring soul can fixate.

As I fuck this beautiful woman harder and harder, her own thrusts and whimpers and pleas a constant feed of oxygen to the fire burning inside me, the intensity of it consumes me. I don’t stand a chance as she pushes back against me, more and more greedily each time, as she begs me in a voice rendered hoarse by her own need to fuck her harder.

She crests, crying out and taking it all so beautifully as her internal muscles clamp around me. But it’s my name on her lips that finishes me off.

‘Sweetheart, I—’ I begin. ‘Dear God, you’re so beautiful. Feel what you do to me. Can you feel it?’

I mean, of course, the impossible hardness of my cock as it swells. As I hold still against her and spill and spill and spill.

But as I collapse over her, wrapping my arms around her stomach and shoulders before hauling her up against me, it strikes me that she can’t possibly comprehend the enormity of what she does to me.