Page 92 of Dreamscape Therapies

“I’ll warm you up,” he promises, his voice a low rumble that seems to settle in my bones.

The first finger breaches me slowly, and I have to bite my lip to keep from making an embarrassing sound. It’s been a while and the stretch burns in the best way.

“Breathe,” Vincent murmurs, his free hand rubbing soothing circles on my lower back. “That’s it. Relax for me.”

“I am relaxed,” I protest, despite the fact that every muscle in my body is practically vibrating with anticipation.

“Liar.”

There’s warmth in his voice, affection underneath the teasing, and somehow that makes it even harder to think. He works carefully, gradually pushing me past the initial tension until my body begins to loosen around his fingers. He works deeper, twisting and curling until he finds my prostate.

“Oh, gods!” I call out, my hips jerking forward.

“There it is,” Vincent says with satisfaction. He adds more oil and a second finger. The stretch makes me whimper. “You’re so tight, little dream. So perfect for me.”

I brace my hands on the table to keep from sliding across the polished wood.

He scissors his fingers, opening me up, and I can’t help the litany of curses and pleas that fall from my lips. When he adds a third finger, I’m practically sobbing with need.

“Vincent, please. I’m ready. I need you.” I can barely get the words out, my concentration completely shot as I come undone on his fingers.

“Not yet.” His voice is firm, even though I can hear the strain underneath the words. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wont,” I insist. “I can take it. I want it. Please, Jagiya. I need you inside me.”

He makes a strangled sound and pulls his fingers out. I hear more oil being poured and then the blunt head of his cock is pressing against my entrance.

“Last chance to change your mind," he says, but his voice is shaking.

“If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to…”

He pushes in, and whatever threat I was about to make dissolves into a long, low moan.

The stretch is intense, bordering on too much, but it’s exactly what I need. He’s gentle but firm, giving me time to adjust. I can feel him trembling with the effort of holding back. I grip the edge of the table, breathing through it as he burrows deeper inside of me.

“So tight,” he grits out. “Fuck, Jay, you feel incredible.”

“More,” I gasp. “Give me more.”

He sinks in another inch, and then another until finally he’s fully seated inside of me. We both pause for a moment, panting and adjusting to the intense sensations as we ride the waves of pleasure.

“Okay?” he asks, his voice rough.

I nod enthusiastically.

“Better than okay,” I manage. “Move. Please move.”

He pulls out almost all the way, and then snaps his hips forward. The table shifts beneath us as his rhythm builds, and I cry out, gripping the edge even harder.

“Yes! Like that. Fuck, Vincent. Just like that,” I moan, dropping my head onto the cool table top.

He sets a punishing pace, one hand gripping my hip while the other presses between my shoulder blades, keeping me pinned. The angle is perfect, hitting that spot inside of me with every thrust. Every movement sends another wave of sensation through me, and I’m already embarrassingly close to orgasm.

“Not going to last,” I warn him. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Neither am I,” he growls.

His hand wraps around my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, and whatever control I had left disappears.