Page 75 of Broken Headboards
“Fuck me, Austin,” I plead, biting at his earlobe.
Then, it’s all thunder and fire.
One single thrust and he eases himself me, his cock straining against my inner walls as he drives it home. I lace my legs around his waist, pulling him into me as I grind against him. He starts to thrust, picking up the pace slowly, and I surrender to the moment.
My eyes remain closed as his slow movements turn into a frenzied rush of passion, my mind burning with pleasure. “So good, Austin…” I moan, my eyes rolling in their orbits as I come undone. “So...fucking...GOOD!”
I explode, all tension exploding in my body as I come.
“We’re only getting started,” he growls, sliding his cock off pussy and kneeling.
Turning me around so that I’m laying down on my stomach, he hooks his fingers on my hips and then pulls me back. I raise my ass from the bed and, pushing my elbows against the soft mattress, to go on all fours in front of him. Just to know that I’m offering him the most vulnerable view that I can is enough to make my pussy ache with desire again. I know women can have multiple orgasms—in case you haven’t noticed by now, it happens every time I’m with Austin—but to actually want to come over and over again as I do with him...it’s almost surreal.
Austin makes me feel things I’ve never felt before, and somehow I can’t shake the feeling that we’re just getting started. To have sex with him—to surrender, to fuck, and to make love—is always going to feel like the first time. I know that’s not something anyone would want to put on their curriculum, but let me tell you...if someone could have it there, it’d have to be Austin.
I can already imagine it—Austin Randall, CEO and billionaire, perfect lover.
Sounds tacky? Probably. But it doesn’t make it any less true, does it? Perfect might be too strong of a word, I know that, but that’s exactly what he is—perfect. And judging by the way he just grabbed my hips again, pulling my ass toward him, I dare say things are about to become even more perfect.
I tremble in place as he places one hand between my thighs, brushing his long fingers over the length of my pussy, and then he grabs his cock with his free hand and places it at my entrance. Holding my breath, I wait for him to thrust, but he takes his time.
He starts pushing his cock inside of me inch by slow inch, and then holds his position when all of his length his finally inside of me. He reaches for both my breasts then, my nipples becoming even harder than before, and squeezes them in his hands as he finally starts to trust, his thighs slapping my ass hard.
Moan after moan cascades from my mouth, and I feel my eyes rolling in their orbits once more as my nerve-endings reach their breaking point. I feel as tense as I’ve ever felt, like a dam about to burst, and he still keeps on driving his cock into me relentlessly.
“Harder,” I beg of him, not even knowing if I can take it. I grab at the sheets hard, bunching them up in my fingers as he does exactly what I asked of him, pistoning into me so hard that even though my eyes are open I can’t see anything. Seems like my brain has directed all of its processing power to decoding the surge of pleasure washing over me. God, if this keeps going soon enough I’m gonna pass out.
And that would be a first, that much I can tell you.
“I want you to...come...for me,” I ask him between thrusts, and I start thrusting back against him, my ass cheeks slapping his thighs loudly. I hear his groans of pleasure and that just makes me work harder at it, my body moving rhythmically as he dictates the pace.
When my pussy finally starts tightening around his cock, beads of sweat are already trickling down my face, my muscles complaining from the effort. But I push through all the same, holding it in until he finally drives his cock so hard into me that I see stars behind my eyes.
“Fuck, Tess,” he groans as he gushes his cum inside of me, and that’s it for me. I collapse on top of the bed, completely exhausted as one final orgasm washes over me, consuming me whole and leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.
He follows after me, his chest pressed against my back as he keeps coming, giving me everything he’s got. We remain like that for a long while, both of us breathing as hard as if we had run a marathon. When he finally rolls to the side, sprawling himself next to me, I reach for his hand and lace my fingers on his.
He looks at me, smiles, and then kisses the tip of my nose.
“I love you, Tess Armstrong,” he says quietly.
And right then and there, I know it.
“I love you too, Austin Randall,” I say back to him.
Austin’s the one.
