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Then, holding onto my feet, he began to slowly push his hips forward.
I slapped a hand on the bed, but he paid it no mind.
Every time I thought he had entered as far as he could, he kept pushing to all-new depths.
My head flopped back, and I shook my head as if telling myself that I couldn’t take it anymore, that there was no way I could endure it…
And then he pushed some more.
Already a fresh burst of sweat sprung up across my body in tiny beads.
“Mmmm,” Tix said, now inside me balls deep.
He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. “You are a surprising little one.”
And then he began to pulse inside me.
My breaths hitched in my throat, and my hands snapped out and grabbed at the blankets, grasping great handfuls of them.
He rolled his hips before pulling back and slamming hard into me.
Each stroke was a heavy slap that brought black spots to my vision.
I wailed, and he caught it on my lips and gripped my hips to drive into me even harder.
I gasped as he took all his anger and frustration out on me, pounding me.
I was at his whim, at his full use… and he intended on using me for his full satisfaction.
He flipped me over and entered me from behind, sliding effortlessly into me and plumbing all new depths.
I wailed into the blankets as he hammered me, making me orgasm again and again until I could bear it no longer.
Finally, he grunted loudly, his mouth at my ear, and he reached around, cupping my breasts in one hand and reaching down to rub at my clit with the other as he drove into me deeper and spilled his seed inside me.
He turned my face toward him and planted a kiss on my mouth.
Round one was over.
And round two was just around the corner.
* * *
Holding Tix’s hand felt like an intimate secret, an unspoken promise.
The warmth of his fingers around mine was both reassuring and exciting, sending a cascade of tingling sensations up my arm.
“Are you ready?” Tix’s voice whispered close, carrying with it a faintly earthy allure that strangely calmed my nerves.
I gave a hesitant nod, my heart fluttering. “This is all new to me. Dreamwalking with someone else, I mean. I usually feel so isolated when I enter the dreamworld.”
His fingers tightened around mine, a reassuring gesture. “The physical touch in our world,” he motioned to our hands, “strengthens our bond in the dreamscape. Trust me.”
And how could I not after the drilling he had given me?
It had been hard, visceral, powerful.
But not without affection.
