Page 74 of Faking All the Way
Kat
Asher’s words send a shiver through me, equal parts anticipation and nerves. I should’ve known he was this big after watching him jerk off last night through the window, but from that distance, I didn’t quite appreciate the full… size of him. Didn’t understand what his cock would actually look like up close, how long and thick and hard it would be. The logistics of getting that thing inside me suddenly seem a lot more real than they did then.
But there’s no way I don’t want what he’s offering. I’m still so turned on, the fire in my veins not quenched at all even though I already came once. If anything, that first orgasm just made me want more, my body hungry for everything he’s promising. I’m starting to realize how much I’ve been missing all these years, how little I settled for with Daniel. I didn’t even know sex could feel like this, could make me feel this alive and present in my own body.
I nod, breathless and shaking slightly. My whole body is trembling with the anticipation of what’s coming.
He teases me, running his tip over my clit, and the sensation makes me gasp. My hips jerk toward him involuntarily, but rather than sliding into me, he holds back.
“I want to hear it,” he tells me. “I need to know what you want.”
He slips lower, teasing my entrance now, his thick cock right there but barely inside. So close I can feel the pressure of it starting to stretch me open, the promise of what’s coming. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I gasp, my hips lifting toward him, trying to get more contact. Trying to make him stop teasing and just give us both what we need already.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asks, his gaze hooded.
“Yes.” My voice comes out clearer and more desperate than before. There’s no hesitation at all any more, just the building arousal crashing through me. “Please!”
He eases into me slowly, his thumb circling my clit as he presses deeper. The dual sensation makes my brain short-circuit, making it impossible to think about anything except how good it feels, how full I’m getting. I gasp at the stretch, my hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging in hard enough that I should feel bad for the marks they’ll probably leave later. But fuck, Ineedsomething to hold on to.
He leans down, his mouth right by my ear, murmuring rough encouragement that sends shivers down my spine. “You’re doing so well, baby. Your body is gripping me so tight it’s going to kill me.”
I cling to his shoulders, my nerve endings all firing at once. I’m so full, fuller than I’ve ever felt in my life, and there’s a bit of discomfort from the stretch. It’s a lot, almost too much, my body struggling to adjust to his size. My breath comes out in short gasps as I try to relax, to let my body open for him.
But his steady words and his hand at my hip guide me through it, anchoring me in the moment. The way he’s looking at me and touching me makes me feel safe even as I’m overwhelmed. He’s not rushing, not pushing too fast, giving me time to adjust to each added inch.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “More than halfway now. You’ve got it, bright eyes. Just breathe.”
I do, dragging in a shaky breath and then another. And slowly, I start to get lost in it as he works his way in. The heat overtakes any discomfort, pleasure building over the slight burn of the stretch. My body starts to loosen up, and I meet his short thrusts, rolling my hips to help him slide deeper, wanting all of him even if it’s almost too much.
When he’s fully inside, he stills. His whole body is taut, muscles straining. His gaze pins me, intense and burning like fire. “You did it, baby. Look down. See for yourself how fucking good we look together. How perfectly you take me.”
I look down between us, and the sight makes me moan. Seeing where we’re joined, seeing how my body has taken all of him, makes me clench around him involuntarily. He reacts immediately, hissing out a breath through his teeth. His whole body tenses, the broad muscles of his shoulders straining.
“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna finish before I can make you feel as good as I want to. I’m holding on by a thread here.”
My stomach flutters at his words. There’s something powerful about the knowledge that I affect him that much. That he’s struggling to control himself because of me. Unable to help myself, I do it again, squeezing around him deliberately. I want to test his control, want to see what happens when he loses it.
He gives me a look that’s half warning, half heat, his jaw clenching. “Kat.”
I laugh breathlessly, but I don’t do it again, not wanting to torture him too much. But I do whisper, “You can move now. Please. I need you to—I need to feel?—”
I don’t quite know how to articulate it, nowhere near as well versed in dirty talk as he clearly is. But the words Idoget out seem to be enough, because he starts moving. He goes slow at first, clearly cautious about hurting me, each thrust measured and controlled. And I appreciate it, I do. But it feels so good now, the initial discomfort gone, and I don’t want him gentle or slow. I need to feel everything, need him to let go of that control he’s holding on to so tightly.
“I can take it,” I whimper. “I won’t break.”
He reacts to that, cursing under his breath. Something in my words seems to snap his restraint, like I gave him permission to stop holding back. He thrusts harder, deeper, and the sensation is so good it almost hurts.
“Oh god!” I gasp, my head tipping back.
His mouth tips up in a sinful smile. “You don’t need god, bright eyes. You only need me. Only me to make you feel this way.”
My whole body shivers at his words, and I grip him tighter, my legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. I can feel him tense, as if his restraint is shredding further with every movement, every sound I make.
I’m starting to get close, white-hot pleasure building low in my belly, winding tighter with each thrust. My breath comes faster, my body moving with his. But then he suddenly stops and pulls out. Before I can protest the emptiness, the loss of him, he lifts me and flips me onto my hands and knees, moving me easily.
“I’ve been imagining this ever since the other night.” His hands run down my back, over my hips, his calluses rough against my skin. “When I told you to get on your hands andknees for me, when we were acting for Daniel. You look even better like this than I imagined.”
