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“I love to be inside you. You’re so snug.”
Oliver tightened his embrace, thrusting in and out so that I slid up the wall with each stroke. The muscles in his shoulders strained as his respirations grew heavy. He moved away, letting me down.
“What are you doing?” I protested at the loss of him inside me.
He led me to a couch which I could barely see. “On all fours,” he demanded.
I felt around as I hunted for the cushions then moved into place and he slipped back into me, grasping my hips hard and shoving deep inside my slick channel.
“Oh God, Oliver, I’m going to come,” I moaned, feeling the heat building inside me.
“Scream,” he urged, his voice laced with desire.
“I can’t,” I admitted, my breath hitching with anticipation.
With a sudden motion, he pulled out of me, leaving me teetering on the brink of ecstasy.
“Fuck me,” I begged, my voice raw with need.
“Scream for me, Ryleigh. I know you want to,” Oliver insisted, his tone commanding.
“I can’t,” I protested, feeling frustration bubbling up within me.
“Then you don’t come,” he declared firmly.
I sighed in frustration, feeling the ache of desire pulsing through me. “Neither do you, then.”
“My will is stronger than yours,” he asserted confidently.
As I reached toward my own pleasure, Oliver grabbed my hand, holding it firmly in his grip.
“I need it,” I cried out desperately.
“Then do as I ask,” he replied, his voice softening slightly.
“Why, Oliver?” I questioned, feeling a mix of confusion and longing.
“I love to hear you scream when you come. I want to know I satisfy you,” he confessed, his words sending a shiver of arousal down my spine.
“You do. I don’t need to scream,” I insisted, my voice filled with conviction.
He slipped back inside me, and as he felt my body respond, he withdrew once more. “Please,” I pleaded, my body trembling with anticipation.
Oliver teased me relentlessly, each withdrawal leaving me on the edge of desperation. Tears welled in my eyes as I yearned for release, the ache of desire consuming me.
He withdrew one final time, moving us to the couch and pulling me onto his lap. As he discarded my shoes, I reached for the condom, desperate to feel him completely.
“No. I told you, there’s nowhere to clean up,” he reminded me, his tone firm but tender.
“I don’t care. I want nothing between us,” I declared, my voice filled with longing.
“You’re a dirty girl,” he teased, his words sending a thrill through me.
“I love you, Oliver. Make me come,” I pleaded, my heart pounding with desire.
Removing the condom, I rose onto my knees, positioning his shaft at my slick entrance before lowering myself onto him. As we rocked together, our bodies moved in perfect harmony, each sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.
With a primal cry, I threw my head back as ecstasy washed over me, Oliver's arms the only thing keeping me grounded as I rode out the intensity of my climax. As I collapsed against him, spent and sated, I knew that in that moment, there was nowhere else I'd rather be than in his arms.
