Page 110 of Reckoning

I pick her left leg up, placing it so that she’s opened up enough for me.

As carefully as I can I pour the lube onto my cock, rubbing it over myself and then run my fingers down her cunt, making sure she’s nice and wet too.

My fingers slide inside, I tease only enough to ensure she’s ready and then I’m pushing myself in but I’m slow this time. I savour every second, every inch that I claim.

She gasps out, shifting slightly, and I pause, waiting to see if she’ll wake. It feels like we’ve been building to this, me training her body so that now she’s so comfortable with me she just accepts me however I choose to take her.

“There’s a good girl.” I praise when I see she’s still asleep.

I place my hands on her hips, leaning close enough that I can smell her but not in a way that places too much weight on her body.

And then I pick up my pace, rocking her body, thrusting into her over and over and over.

She’s so damn soft, so damn good. Her muscles clench around me, welcoming me like I’m a sinner entering through the doors of hell.

I shut my eyes, growling out, forcing down that pleasure because unlike before when I couldn’t control myself this time is measured, this time is more sacred. I want her to come. I want us both to enjoy this.

I tilt my pelvis, angling my cock deeper, and with my thumb I push down on her clit. A moan escapes her lips.

“That’s it.” I say. “Take what I give you, let me show your body how good it can feel.”

She doesn’t respond, she just lays there.

I press my lips to her belly, kissing those scars. If I had my way I’d cover her skin in tattoos, I’d replace every inch of that trauma with something delicate, something that reflects her beauty. I’d turn her into more of a work of art than she already is, instead of the current cenotaph to the horrors she survived.

But it’s not my body, not my decision. It’s hers. She gets to decide how and if she wants to take that step.

The sound of our bare skin slapping fills the air. The sound of her cunt squelching as I fill it over and over is like a herald of angels cheering me on.

I’m so close now. My blood is ringing in my ears. My thumb is twisting, flicking, teasing her. I need her to come. I want her to come. I’m not going to stop until she performs for me. Until she gives me this.

She jerks, she tenses, and then just as I feel myself topple over she does it, she climaxes right on my cock, covering me as I pour myself deep inside her.

I slump over, only just managing to keep my bodyweight from crushing her.

A voice in my head tells me I should have been smarter, should have worn a condom. We’ve not discussed birth control. Now that’s another thing on my list, but it’s a problem for the future. A problem for tomorrow.

I’m too tired, too content, in truth, too fucking entranced by the sleeping beauty beside me to give a fuck about the consequences of my actions now.

I pull the covers up, I tuck her back in, not bothering to put her underwear back in place and I lie there, feeling as my come slowly leaks back out of her.

Yeah, I’ll admit that makes it all the better. That soothes the concerns about getting her pregnant. I’ve wanted to fill her up, to mark her insides from the moment I laid eyes on her and now, finally that’s another thing I’ve achieved.

I drag one slow finger down her arm, when she wakes I’m going to have her again, I’m going to make her come more times than she can count, I’m going to reward her for being such a good girl tonight.

Sofia

Iwake, slowly open my eyes, realising that Koen is here, that his arms are around me, that I can’t move because of how he’s holding me.

But as I try to shift I realise my underwear is gone; I’m not wearing my thong. My pussy is throbbing, it’s sore, really sore, and I feel wet.

Did he fuck me last night? How on earth did I sleep through that?

I take a long slow breath, turning to look at him.

He meets my gaze, grinning back.

“How are you feeling, princess?” He asks.

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