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“I wanted you under me the moment I saw you,” he told me between kisses that burned my skin, from my neck down my breast bone. “When you bit me, when I held you, when I watched you sleep, I dreamed of this.” He paused to kiss one beaded nipple. “Of having you spread out before me like some kind of lush banquet. Of tasting you. Of having you all wet and squirming.” He very carefully settled his hard cock against me, not wanting to dip in. Instead, he made sure the shaft thrust against my clit. “Of pushing inside you and feeling my mate squeeze tight around me. Of being with the one woman I never thought I’d meet. When you bit me, my heart stopped and then it started beating again. For you, Flick, always for you.”
I pulled his head down and kissed him to mask the tears that pricked at my eyes. Had anyone ever spoken to me like that? Like I was some kind of fucking prize they’d spent their life dying to win? Like I was precious? I searched my mind half-heartedly for any example before Peter and came up with nothing. I’d had relationships and love affairs before Rick, but they were was always something small, furtive, almost as if we were embarrassed by the whole thing. Not Peter. He held nothing back, except one thing.
“It was good to talk about this,” he said, finally pulling back, on his knees between my thighs. “I should’ve… I just didn’t want to…scare you.”
I chuckled and reached up, wrapping my hand around his shaft.
“It’s not an actual monster. It’s just a really big dick. And it's what you do with it that determines what makes it monstrous, not the size.” I paused for a second, remembering too many examples of just that. “Let's just promise each other to go slowly and try not to hurt each other. Yeah?”
His agreement came out as a long groan as I swivelled my hand around his length.
“Fuck, that feels so damn good…”
On impulse, I shifted, moving until I crouched at his knees. His eyes flicked open as my tongue extended, then focussed sharply as I licked from base to tip. He tasted of salty, clean male skin, something I was about to get a bit more acquainted with. Feeling bolder, I circled that bulbous head, licking up to that sensitive spot just under it, then sucking it into my mouth.
“Oh Flick…” he gasped, despite the fact that I wasn’t able to take very much of him, but I tried my damnedest to work with what I could, swirling and lashing my tongue as I worked him with my mouth. His breath whistled between his teeth, then became open mouthed pants as I got faster. His hands were as light as feathers on my shoulders, the only indication of what I was doing to him in the restive way they kept moving, until finally, he jerked free.
His cock hung angry and red, slick with my saliva, and jerking with tension, before he pushed me down onto the bed.
“Tell me I can taste you. Tell me I can taste my mate.”
“You want to…?” He crawled down the line of my body, his eyes boring into mine, making it clear what he wanted.
“Pussy tastes like shit,” Rick had told me a year into our relationship. “Don’t matter how often you wash it, it still fucking stinks.”
I reached for him, ready to stop him, but his eyes dropped down. He looked at me, wet and slick, with a wide smile spread across his face, like I’d given him his favourite meal.
“Look at you, so sweet and wet.” He placed a kiss on my inner thigh. “Tell me I can. I’ll stop whenever you want but…”
I nodded once, not trusting myself to speak. He lunged forward, and I tamped down the rush of fear he inspired when he covered me with his mouth.
“Oh!” My eyes went wide and unseeing, staring at the ceiling as I felt him. He ate me like a man starved, burying his face in me and licking up all he could, sucking my clit and thrusting his tongue inside. “Oh god!”
It’d been over a decade since I’d felt anything like this, and now that it was back, I knew I’d never settle for anything less. My Tirian gave a self-satisfied snort as I lay there, spread out like a starfish as he worked me higher and higher, his thick fingers sliding in and hooking upwards.
God, here it is, I thought with the first wash of orgasm. My whole body tensed, as if bracing for what was to come, and for good reason. It started in the base of my spine, throbbing sullenly, then in great spasming clenches of my cunt around his fingers as my clit exploded.
“God yes…” I sobbed, over and over, as I shook with it. It felt like I could see the moon and the stars and the worlds beyond as the waves washed over me, and he just powered on as I came, pushing me for more and more and more, until finally, I had to gasp for him to stop.
There’s a particular kind of camaraderie that comes from having good sex. He flopped down beside me, grinning with an ease I don’t think I’d ever seen. He pulled me close, holding me against his heaving chest before dropping kisses on the top of my head. For a moment, I just hung there, collected up and held with no more responsibility than to breathe. And I did, catching that spicy male scent that made my head spin, until finally we pulled apart.
“That was amazing,” I said, the words sounding weird, not adequate to describe what had just happened. My body felt electric, like someone had turned a switch on that I hadn’t realised was off. “Seriously, if you had any idea how long it's been since someone’s done that…” I shook my head, then looked down between us. He was still rigid, but seemed unfazed by this. “I don’t know if anyone’s ever just…got me off without expecting anything.”
“Anytime, anywhere…” he purred. I looked at him and saw it wasn’t just me. He looked lit from within, almost glowing with pleasure.
“Roll over,” I said, watching, waiting to see if he’d do it. I didn’t tell Rick what to do, didn’t want to. I’d just wanted him to bugger off.
“Want to go round two?” Peter asked me with a smile, reaching out for me when I straddled him, but I was too low for that. I kneeled astride his knees and then reached out.
“Flick…” He’d been about to insist I didn’t need to do this, I was sure, but those words died off when I wrapped my hand around him. I made it slow and sensual at first, just running my palm up and down his shaft, twisting my wrist as I went, which seemed to pull almost pained gasps from him.
“You OK?” I asked.
He couldn’t answer as his body tensed, providing this truly impressive view of his muscles standing proud, but when I slowed, he nodded quickly. I let his reactions be my guide, scanning his body, listening to the wild music of his groans and pants, to tell me what I needed to know.
His body vibrated like a struck guitar string when he came, his whole body thrusting into the last few strokes, and then a guttural cry released as his cum erupted. It splattered over his stomach and chest at a rapid rate, my fingers tightening to prolong the pleasure, until finally, his hand went to my wrist to stop me.
I felt curiously proud that I’d been able to bring him low and devastate him with pleasure, because that’s what he looked like. He just lay there limply, then opened his eyes a crack to look at me.
