Page 183 of Protein Shake


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There’s no time for being coy, though. I breathe out sharply as he smacks my right ass cheek, the open palm of his hand hitting me with enough strength to leave a mark. He does it again, this time on the left side, and a trembling moan leaves my lips. Just the sound of it is enough to drive me crazy - it’s dry and firm, like a gunshot, and it tells me that being with him will be unlike anything I have ever done.

I tremble with anticipation as he places one finger on my inner thigh, moving it upwards toward my pussy. He takes his time, brushing his fingertip against both my groins before going for it… but the moment he touches me there, it’s Heaven.

His touch is gentle and patient, his finger barely touching my folds as he moves it along the length of my pussy, toward my clitoris. When he reaches it, he presses slightly down and all hell breaks loose inside of me. I close my eyes, my breathing growing ragged as the whip of desire lashes at me. With my heart drumming hard inside my chest, I move my hips back, desperately trying to make him slide his fingers in me.

“Don’t move,” he whispers against my ear again. His words are soft, but there’s no room for doubt: I will obey him.

“I won’t,” I tell him, willing my legs to remain still as I submit to his torture of anticipation: I’m dripping wet right now, and still he keeps teasing me, moving his finger back and forth over my inner lips. Breathing out slowly, I try to keep my composure, but it gets harder anytime his finger brushes against my clit. He applies a perfect pressure there - not too much, not too little -, leaving his finger there just enough to leave me wanting more.

When he pushes past my pussy lips, his finger sliding just an inch in, I brace myself for an explosion of pleasure. But it doesn’t come - instead of sliding his finger in all the way, he only prods, moving it back and forth and driving me completely insane. I have to resist the urge to push my hips back against him, my insides shouting for more.

“Be patient,” he tells me, his finger circling the opening between my folds. I try to respond, to say that I can’t be patient, but the only thing that leaves my throat is a small groan. I can’t think straight, let alone form a coherent sentence.

Then, perhaps feeling my desperation, he flicks his wrist and slides his finger all the way in. I hold my breath as I feel him inside of me, just a taste of what’s to come - yes, somehow I know that there’s a lot more to come. The shackles of self-control have fallen off my mind, and now there’s no going back.

He holds his position, his finger deep inside me, pressed hard against my inner sweet spot. Only when he starts to slowly slide his finger out do I breathe again, my brain suddenly remembering that I need to do it in order to keep alive - it’s easy to forget about these things when the only thing your body wants is pleasure.

There’s a smooth cadence to my breathing now, one that matches the rhythm of his finger. He moves it in hard, and then slowly back out, taking his time with me. The more he does it, the more I ache to really feel him inside of me.

He starts to go faster, my breathing growing harsher each time I feel him deep inside of me. A moan climbs up from my throat to my lips as he slides one more finger inside, pushing it all the way in with one single movement. I let my head fall down, my hair covering my face as I close my eyes, that sweet tension spreading from my pussy to all of my limbs. Like the calm before the storm, I know one is brewing deep inside me.

I come the moment he slides his two fingers in, curling them upwards like a hook against my G-spot. I moan, the sound of my voice echoing through the New York night, and he presses harder against me. He keeps still as waves of pleasure make my muscles twitch, my chin trembling as I struggle to keep breathing.

“This is just the start,” he whispers, breathing deeply over my neck and taking my scent in. I purr as he slides his fingers out, and then my lips curl into a smile as he wipes off my juices on my ass cheeks. With my body still twitching, I let my hand dart behind me and against his chest. Without seeing what I’m doing, I let my fingers go down the front of his shirt, and I only stop when I find what I’m looking for: a hard bulge between his legs, one that holds promises of unspeakable delight. I curl my fingers around it, electricity shocking my brain as I think of the possibilities.

I move my hand up and down, stroking him over his trousers, but I can’t do it for long - I need to feel him on me, inside me, not just on my hand. Letting go, I let my fingers go over to his waist, and then I hook them on his pants; I unbuckle his belt fast, open his zipper, and then tug them down hurriedly, his cock brushing against the back of my hand. Yes, babe. You can absolutely do that with one hand if you have enough sex. It feels as if my heart is going to burst from all the anxiety, my body desperately craving him inside me.

Before I can push his cock down and between my legs, he grabs me by the wrist. Holding it harshly, restraining me, and then presses his body against mine. With his length between my ass cheeks, he presses even harder, my body close to the boiling point. It’s hard to be patient when he’s so close, and when I can feel his unbridled desire for me… But, fighting against all of my instincts, I do it, even though what my body demands is for me to turn around and guide him home.

I rock my body against him, moving it in waves as the warmness of his cock seeps into my skin. Time seems to dilate as I stroke him like that, eternity blanketing my mind. Please, I almost pray to the Heavens, let this last forever.

With a sudden movement, he pulls back, his cock no longer against my body. But then he yanks on my hair again, forcing my head back as, with his other hand, he guides his cock between my thighs. I gasp as the tip of his cock brushes against my pussy lips, my mind suddenly capable of producing one simple though: yes, yes, yes.

“You want this, don’t you?” He asks me, slowly sliding his cock in. There’s only one inch inside of me, if that, but I can already feel the flames of delight burning under my skin.

“Yes... “ I mutter, trying hard to find the words inside my barely functioning brain. “Yes… I want it…”

Slowly, he lets one more inch inside of me, my inner lips tightening around his shaft. I try to push my hips back, but his hand on my waist keeps me still. I feel his body tensing up and I close my eyes for his thrust, but he does the opposite - he pulls his cock out, and then leans into me.

“You’ll have it… But not yet.” This is torture - plain and simple. To show me pleasure just to snatch it away at the last second… It just makes me want him more. It makes me delirious for him, my mind functioning with one sole purpose: to have him in me. “Turn around.”

I obey, turning on my heels to face him. He looks at me with the hint of a smile on his lips, and then he unbuttons his shirt slowly. I purse my lips, my eyes wandering over the narrow valleys between his abs. It doesn’t matter how many times I see his muscles, I can’t help myself from marveling at his sculpted body. My eyes follow the motion of his arms as he pulls his shirt off, the muscles in his chest and shoulders working in tandem like the perfect piece of human engineering they are. Throwing his shirt to the floor, he kicks off his shoes and, pushing down his pants and boxer briefs, steps out of them. I can’t take my eyes off of him as he undresses, his perfection almost too much for me to bear.

Standing in front of me, he makes me feel small and helpless. He could just as easily unleash ecstasy on my body as he could pick me up and break me in half.

“Take it off,” he tells me, looking at me with his bedroom eyes. I stare back, the sound of my heartbeat like a machine gun against my eardrums. Lost in his eyes, my mind sails away from all sanity - without even being aware of it, I take my hands to my shoulders and hook my fingers on the straps of my dress. Pushing it down my arms, I keep on tugging until my dress is bunched up around my ankles.

He takes one step forward and my heart skips a beat. His hands reach for me and he slides them under my arms, his fingers running over the straps of my bra. He goes for the clasp and, unfastening it, slowly peels the bra off of me. I let it fall down my arms, the cups drooping over my breasts and finally gliding down to the floor.

Moving back again, he stops two feet away from my body, his cock pointing upward and calling to me. With a serious expression on his face, he lets his eyes hike all the way from my ankles to my face. Then, he smiles - and I melt.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, the words blanketing my mind.

Oh, God, am I blushing? Just t

hree words from him and I’m feeling like a teenage girl, eager for approval. And his terse words are enough to make me act in a way I never did before.

“Fuck me, Liam,” I find myself saying, the words leaving my lips before I can even process the meaning behind them. In a heartbeat, he’s on me - one hand on my waist, the other around my neck, he pushes me hard against the table. My ass hits the edge of the table then, an anxious moan climbing up my throat. He’s rough, handling me like no one ever did before… And still, his fingers around my neck, I still feel safe.

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