Page 49 of The Thorne at My Side
"I can imagine your inner turmoil," I say as I step back and pull a condom out of my jeans pockets. "Ah, ah," I scold as she starts to lower her legs, "I didn't tell you to stop holding those."
The look on her face reads disdain but she pulls her knees up into her chest again.
"Good girl," I tease and I watch her eyes narrow. "Now," I place my thumb on her clit as I grip my base, "hold tight."
In one thrust I sheath myself in her to the hilt. She gasps and grips her knees tighter but her insides stretch around me.
I'm so hard this isn't going to last long but I want her to have a third so I start to strum her clit as I slowly roll my hips into her.
"Shit, Austin," she says but I can see on her face that even she doesn't know how to be upset because her mind is too cloudedwith pleasure.
My name on her lips has a dizzying effect.
"Keep saying my name Maggie," I tell her as I slowly pull out and thrust back in. Her whole body rocks with the movement and if her chair wasn't up against the wall I'm sure we'd have moved it across the room already.
"Why? Your ego needs to be stroked that badly?"
I pull out and thrust in again, hard. "No. I need you to hear yourself say my name when I fuck you better than anyone else ever has."
And she takes it better than any other woman I've been with but she doesn't need to know that.
"Now I'm going to not say it, you know that right?"
"I'd like to see you try," I whisper in her ear as I slide my hand off her clit and palm her ass. I've trapped her in on the other side with my hand against the back of the chair and so when I slap the skin under my hand and she loses her grip on her knee my body catches it.
"Austin!" She scolds as her insides clamp down on me.
"Do it again?" I ask as I rub her ass to soothe the sting.
"Yes," she whispers with her eyes closed.
“Look at me,” I command. And as our eyes connect I lay another smack across her flesh and then hold my hand against her ass as I pump furiously in and out. Her tits are jumping beneath her knees and I begin to lose feeling everywhere except my dick. With one last slap to her ass and a pump from me, her insides flutter and roll to pull every last bit out of me. I press myself forward and rock into her a few more times as my breath shudders with my release. “Fuck, Maggie. Yes.”
The urge to collapse down on her and then spend the next hour cuddling her to my chest comes out ofnowhere. I’m hooked on Maggie Collins. My body is addicted to hers.
Slowly I pull out and we untangle ourselves. I help her sit up and she lowers her feet to the floor before I grab my glasses and step into the bathroom to clean up.
After I wash my hands, I look up at myself in the mirror and see a man who is well and truly fucked.
Physically, obviously, that was the best sex I've ever had.
But emotionally too. Maggie Collins makes me feel things. Our emotional connection isn’t as established as what I share with TalkShopGirl but could it get there? It doesn’t matter. Maggie hates me, and tells me so every day.
When I walk out into her studio apartment I find Maggie has slipped into the white dress shirt again and she's folded my clothes on the coffee table.
"So, umm, hi," she starts as I reach forward and climb into my boxer briefs.
"Hi, Maggie," I give her a side smile.
"This is going to sound weird," she starts, "and I probably shouldn't say this but maybe I've been dickmatized or something. Anyway, that was my first orgasm on my back."
I stop getting dressed with only one leg in my jeans.
"I'm sorry, come again."
She huffs out a breath, "I've never gotten an orgasm on my back. Only when I've been on top or on my stomach."
"What did you think?"
