Page 73 of On Circus Lane

“Good.” His voice is deep, and I groan as he pushes the tip of his finger in. He waits for a second until I wriggle impatiently, and then he pulls the tip out and slides his finger in. He goes slowly, pausing for me to get used to it, but I don’t need gentle treatment, and I lick his cock, bending to put a stinging kiss at the base.

“Shit.” He jerks, making his finger slide in.

I cry out, unable to do anything except move into that finger. “Fuck. Do more,” I whisper, pressing back against his finger, wanting it deeper, wanting it to hurt. I groan in protest as he pulls out, but he’s adding more lube, the chill cool on my overheated skin. Then he’s sliding two fingers in, and I go wild.

I hump against the fingers, moaning loudly. The pleasure is so intense I forget to suck his dick and just rest my face against him. I jack his cock, but all my attention is on his fingers cramming inside me, and I push back and forward, riding thedigits. His other hand is tracing my body, trailing over my buttocks and my lower back. The tickling caresses leave fire trails behind them, and my panting is loud in the quiet room.

Then it’s three fingers, and all I can do is mouth at his penis, my eyes shut, my hair sweaty on my face as I hump and whine.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he whispers.

I’ve abruptly had enough foreplay, so I pull off his fingers and look into his face. “Sit against the headboard,” I order.

He eyes me for a long second before slowly complying. I wonder why he isn’t feeling the same urgency as me, the same desire to be inside me, but then I notice his hands are shaking, and I still for a second at the heat in his eyes.

Then I’m in motion. I tear open the condom packet and roll it on him, and he arches into my touch, his hands spreading restlessly over me, kneading my shoulders and pulling at me to get close. He’s about to get his wish.

I pour a stream of lube over his sheathed cock and then get into position, kneeling over his thighs with my legs on either side of him.

“Ready?” I ask breathlessly.

He nods, fisting his cock. He nudges my hole like a gentle kiss, and I push down, pausing for a second to get used to his girth before sliding slowly all the way down his length. He cries out, his hands scrabbling at my hips and no doubt leaving bruises. I hope so.

I stop, resting for a second when he’s all the way in. I can feel his pubes tickling my bum.

“Okay?” he pants.

I nod, screwing my eyes shut. I love the overwhelming feeling when I first get a dick in me.

“Go slow,” he says.

My eyes fly open. “Fuck that. I need tocome.”

He chuckles, so I do a little grind, gratified when his laughter stops, and he grabs my arse hard. I can feel his cock twitch inside me, and I wriggle on it.

“Damn, that’s intense,” he gasps.

I nod, unable to speak. I shift until I’ve found the best position and then start to move. Linking my arms over his neck and gazing down at him, I gyrate on his dick. This position rubs against my prostate, and the pleasure is so intense that I can barely breathe. I lift, feeling his cock kiss the rim of my hole, and then ram down, making him cry out. His big hands come up, and he grabs my buttocks and kneads them restlessly.

I repeat that a few times, my eyes closed, pleasure rushing through me. When we’re not panting, we’re groaning or grunting, and I flex my fingers in the sweat that’s damp on his shoulders. The scent of sex is rich between us, and I inhale it greedily.

My balls tighten, and I know it won’t be long, so I increase my pace, bouncing on his cock. He steadies me, gripping my buttocks, but I have to stop and take a breath when his finger runs over my hole.

“You’re stuffed full of me,” he says hoarsely.

“Mmm. Do it again.”

He strokes my hole again, and I hold still as he strokes the stretched opening until the tip of his finger edges in alongside his cock. The feeling is sublime, and my eyes fly open. I usually keep them shut during sex to focus solely on sensations, but I can’t seem to do that with Tom.

I blink when I find him looking back at me. I get the feeling he’s been looking at me all along. Our gazes hold. His hair is wet with sweat, his broad shoulders gleaming in the dim light. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and he looks so sexy, but also rumpled and warm andhere. And before I can stop myself, I lean down and kiss him.

I pull back, shocked. His finger leaves my hole, and he gathers me impossibly close, our breathing filling the tiny space between us.

“I don’t usually kiss during sex,” I whisper.

His eyes are mysterious, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. “Good,” he says and fits his mouth to mine. The kiss is deep and passionate, and I fall into it. I realise that I’ve stopped moving only when he taps my arse. “Move,” he says in a guttural voice.

I almost wish this could go on forever. To be the centre of his world like this, where he sees only me, is curiously seductive. But the tingle in my spine and balls drives me on, and I slam down on him. He’s obviously done letting me control the pace because he starts to thrust. At first, we’re uncoordinated, but then something clicks, and we start to move like we’re lovers of years rather than just one night.

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