Page 14 of Dirty Rotten Love

One finger becomes two. I’m groaning and moaning now. Lost in the high.

He is leaning over me, all manly and strong. My eyes are closed, but I can feel the weight of his stare.

He is all dark eyes and dark hair. A contrast to my blond and blue-eyed look. His skin is several shades darker than mine. Sun-kissed and weathered. And the mental image of his strong, calloused hand sliding next to my pale, smooth thighs, is doing things to me. I have no idea why that’s hot, but it is. Hot enough to make me combust.

“Hold on to the headboard,” he rumbles.

My arms lift above my head without questioning. I love MacLeod telling me what to do. It’s so relaxing. No thinking necessary. He speaks, I do. Nothing has ever felt more right.

A third finger works into me. I gasp. I wriggle. My hips move, but MacLeod puts his free hand on them, and I fall still.

Everything is stretch, a little burn, and an immense feeling of fullness, and all of it is delicious. I never want it to end. I’ve found heaven and I never want to leave.

His fingers do something inside me, bump a spot that lights me up. My back arches, all the air in my lungs leaves in a great whoosh, and I’m cumming so hard I’m going to pass out.

Waves and waves of pleasure wash over me. Leaving me weak and dizzy.

Slowly, I realize I’m panting and sweaty. Sprawled on the bed. MacLeod’s fingers have left me, and now he is back to his kneeling position. This time, rolling a condom onto his cock.

It’s a very nice cock, if there is such a thing. A decent size. Bigger than mine, but not obscenely huge. Not terrifyingly enormous. I’m not scared about where it’s about to go.

But maybe my perspective has changed. I’m not the same Rory who knocked on the door. I’m a different person now. More worldly wise. More experienced. With far broader horizons. I know stuff about myself now. Such as the fact I really, really like having my ass played with.

I try to look at MacLeod’s cock with Rory-who-knocked-on-the-door’s eyes, but it is no good. That Rory no longer exists. This Rory is excited to discover if a cock feels even better than fingers did.

MacLeod moves. He leans over me, holding his weight up with one hand by my head. His other hand is lower, much lower. The logical conclusion is that his other hand is holding his cock, ready to slide into me.

“Ready?” he asks.

I look up at him and nod.

Pressure pushes against my hole, and I tense, even though it doesn’t feel bad.

“Deep breaths,” says MacLeod. “It’s going to burn, but just keep breathing.”

I do as I’m told. The pressure intensifies.

“Breathe. Don’t fight it. Let it happen.”

I breathe as deeply as I can. Filling my lungs up, expanding my chest. Pressure turns into a burn.

“Unclench your jaw.”

I do. Then there is something almost like a popping sensation. The pressure eases. Weight and heat slide into me just a little.

MacLeod grunts. “That’s it. Good boy.”

I gasp and moan. His voice is making my insides do strange things, I suspect mostly shift around to make room for him.

“Keep breathing. You are doing great. You can take it.”

A whimper bubbles out of me. A good whimper. MacLeod is hot and heavy inside me. He is stretching me. Filling me. And nothing has ever felt so good. And his deep voice is vibrating through me, sinking into my soul and completing me. I’m soaring and it’s divine.

He makes another grunt of pleasure, and it curls my toes. I did that. I’m making him feel good.

“Nearly there,” he growls as he gives me another inch. “Just a bit more.”

More? Flipping heck. I swear he is already well past my belly button. But I’m up for more. Pleasure is flooding my veins. This feels like a religious experience. I’m greedy for more.