Page 46 of Tattletale

But tonight, I’ll be his pleasure.

“Deeper, Lance. I want to feel you in my stomach. That cock is so big, I know you can make it.”

He smacks my ass again before speeding up his hip-bruising thrusts. “Keep talking to me like that, Cricket, and I’m going to break you.”

“Break me,” I moan. “Fucking break me.”

He literally fucks all my cares away. My brain goes blissfully blank as I focus on Lance driving in and out of me, touching the sacredly tender spot of my inside walls. When he tries to slow, I throw my hips back harder, taking more of him than he was willing to give.

“Slow, baby. You’re too tight and swollen. You’re going to tear.”

“Stop telling me what I can handle,” I hiss, pushing against him, grinding on his hard cock until he stimulates that perfect spot. The one that makes me feel beautifully out of control. I’ve only done this once or twice in my life; usually, no man can ignite me like this.

ButLance…

Perfect, sexy, gargantuan Lance hits that spot like his life depends on it.

“I’m going to come,” I force out between gasping breaths. “Please don’t stop.”

“Good girl, good girl,” he murmurs under his breath. “I feel you shaking. I want you to soak me. Can you do that?” He rips out of me and quickly replaces his cock with his fingers. He curls them inside of me and scoops his other hand underneath me to push on my belly. “Hold on to my fingers tight, baby.”

I try, but my mind is gone. The torturous tingling pleasure has rendered me speechless, and I can’t even squeal in shock and delight as I release all over Lance’s hand. He quickly yanks his hand out of me to rub against my clit, exasperating my explosive orgasm that’s drenching his sheets. I’m frozen in place, feeling my release dripping down the insides of my thigh. It takes me a moment to comprehend how much I’m shaking. I want to fully collapse…

But Lance isn’t done.

“So beautiful, C,” he says from behind me. He runs his hands over the curve of my ass, then down the outsides of my thighs. “I wish you could see yourself and how fucking perfect you look drenched in your cum.”

I sway my hips in his face. “Your turn.”

I moan when he pushes back into me, bracing myself, but the animalistic fucking is over. He enters me with slow, sweetstrokes, as he coos over me. “I missed you, baby. So much. This sweet, wet pussy is mine. I’m going to take such good care of you.” He bends over me, his sweaty six-pack pressing into my back. Wrapping his hand around my throat, he guides me from my elbows, to upright on my hands. “Don’t you ever fucking hide from me again. I won’t survive it, C. I love you.”

I say nothing. Not even when he releases my throat. I keep grinding against him, trying to match his thrusts. I’m too spent and tender to get all worked up again. I haven’t been with a man since before Lance and I kissed in the break room months ago. Every time I go that long without sex, it’s like starting over. But I didn’t want anyone else after our lips touched. It’s like discovering your favorite flavor. Everything else pales in comparison.

I think we both always knew. Together, we’d be everything.

Why did he do this? Why did he break us?

Why am I blaming Lance?

I shake my head, forcing the reason right back out. I don’t want to think, just feel. And right now, I feel sore.

“Lance, I need you to come. It’s too much.”

“Okay, baby. Turn around and lie back. Give me those eyes.”

“No,” I say. “From behind. You can come wherever you want.”

He lets out a heavy exhale and stops moving. “Look at me.”

“I like it like this,” I insist.

“C, please look at me so I know I haven’t lost you.”

But you have…

Taking matters into my own hands, I throw myself back into him ferociously. He’s on his knees, almost still, while I expertly work my hips, trying to coax out his release. When I hear his sharp exhales, I clench with all my might around his cock, squeezing him until I hear his satisfied groan. He grabs my hips,his fingers digging desperately into my skin. Holding me still, he spills inside me, murmuring something I can’t make out.

After another moment, Lance falls backward on the bed, kicking his legs out. I peek behind me, surveying his sweaty, flushed skin, and the sheepish, sated smile he’s wearing.

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