Page 70 of Descent

He never pulls out all the way, slamming himself home over and over and over again.

Home.

Yes. That’s what this is.

He belongs here, with me, in me.

I can’t even get a full breath of air before he blasts it from me again. And every time he does, I say his name, scream his name.

I need more pressure, more tension. Reaching back, I press one finger against my star, showing him what I need.

His growl greets my request, followed by a searing hot palm against my sacrum. His spit-soaked thumb traces around oncein a tight spiral. I only feel the push and his knuckle slips in, the sensation unbelievably tight.

Instantly, a fissure wracks through me, a small preview of the rising tide of my climax. Each subsequent swell adds to the pleasure, to the overwhelming rush. He’s a torrent, a vortex sucking me higher into the sky, into the wild winds, the hurricane of his love.

The thought sends me over the first precipice, soaring down in free fall.

Love.

G-forces press in on my mind as I rise again, higher toward another release. There are no more words, only my cries, torn from my chest by my need of him as I explode again.

The third ascent nearly breaks me.

The fourth, and I can’t hold myself up any longer, dropping to the bed on my stomach, my legs locked in a perpetual state of spasming bliss.

Still, he doesn’t relent.

His shouts blend into mine, his knees splayed out around me as he barrels between my swollen, flushed cheeks. At this angle, the pressure builds even higher, his colossal length finding only my cluster of nerves, guided by my tightened thighs and ass.

Lost in the throes of my—fuck I lost count—seemingly infinite unwinding, I can tell he’ll find his pleasure soon.

With the last of my fading strength, I brace for that final wave, one that might destroy me. And I welcome it with a ragged, tear-streaked howl for him.

His unburdening is immense, long and drawn out. As I feel his release fill me up, my own pressure bursts forth.

“Oh my—g-g-goooooddess!” I gasp, the breath forced from me. Every muscle convulses.

“Holy shit!” Ero exclaims, forced out of me by the sudden blast of my heavenly flood. It lasts for several seconds, spasms curling my form.

The shudders subside and I freeze, a wash of uncertainty filling my cheeks with heat. “I-I’ve never?—”

“I’ve never made anyone,” he marvels, his eyes wide.

Instantly, I’m at ease. Because it’s only wonder and sheer delight in his voice.

Collapsing beside me, we shift away from the disaster we left on the bedspread. And both of us start to laugh softly, then louder.

A sound I’ve never heard erupts from Ero’s chest, a low, subtle grunt. Almost like a cough.

Laughter. Not much, barely a chuckle.

But it makes me soar, as it simultaneously breaks my heart. That sound changeseverythingin a single moment.

17

ERO

From paradise …

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