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He’s not just fucking me. He’s making love to me. He’s thrusting his huge, throbbing man meat in to my cunt with the utmost love and care, giving me exactly what I told him I wanted.
The feel of him. The smell of his neck as I trace the tip of my nose from his collar bone to his jaw. The impossible length of his cock as he penetrates me, driving himself deeper and deeper until, oh god, I’m coming again—
“ERIC!” I cry out, trashing against my bonds and sobbing against his shoulder. “ERIC! ERIC! ERIC!”
“Kara,” Eric growls through his teeth. “Fucking Christ—Kara! Kara! Kara!”
He releases a torrent of cum inside me. I can feel myself getting filled, then his cum leaking out, then being filled all over again.
I don’t think he’s ever going to stop coming. I think he could come inside me for forever.
In that moment, I think I want him to. I don’t want the orgasm to stop. I want this moment to last.
When he finally collapses on top of me, he doesn’t take his cock out. No, Eric’s massive dick stays nestled safely inside my cunt—exactly where I want it.
What he d
oes do, though, is move his fingers to my wrists, uncuffing me so I can hold him. If it wasn’t for all the mind-blowing orgasms he’s just given me, I would say that there’s no sweeter release in the world…
But, well, you can’t really knock multiple orgasms, honestly.
Holding him feels pretty fucking good anyway.
I wrap my arms around his neck, holding onto him like I’m afraid that if I let go, he’ll leave.
I don’t know whether I want to cry, or scream, or just fuck him again. I mean, like, honestly…probably the last one, and maybe the other two at some other point in the night.
I want to tell him I love him, is the real thing. I want to tell him that I love him, that I’m falling in love with him and every moment I spend with him is like an orgasm without all the screaming and the pussy-throbbing…
But I can’t. I won’t. You don’t just spring that on a guy after sex, y’know?
That’s how you make a guy never want to see you again. And even if it wasn’t for the pageant, I kind of want to see this sexy hunk of a man between my legs every day for the rest of my life.
Instead, I just kiss his collar bone and nuzzle his neck. That’s harmless, right? Totally fucking acceptable.
Nobody can blame me for kissing on the dude who just made me come so many fucking times.
Except, I can blame me. I know what I want to tell him, and it’s fucking killing me to hold it in.
Actually, you know what? Fuck it. Fuck it all.
I’m going to tell him, and whatever happens after that will happen.
I didn’t lose all that weight just so I could live a half-life out of fear.
Fuck it.
“Eric,” I say, turning my lips to his ear. “I—”
“I think I’m falling in love with you, Kara,” he whispers to me.
And, like, holy shit.
I don’t believe what I’ve just heard.
I’m not sure that Eric believes it himself.
“Wait, what? Really?” I stutter, stunned.
