Page 136 of Light in the Dark
"Both."
“Like pretty much all guys, I’ve had fantasies of being with two girls, but in reality? No way. Sounds better than it is. I know that for a fact—Riley, unsurprisingly, told me as much. Fantasies that could come true? Minor things. Outside under the stars is one." He hesitates, glances at me. "Um. I dunno, Em. To be totally honest, you reallyarea fantasy come true. Your body is my fantasy."
I blush hard, covering my face with my hands. "Fee. C'mon."
"For real. When I would fantasize and jerk off before I met you, your body shape is what I would envision. I'mnotmaking this up."
"Yes, you are," I mumble.
He rolls into me, snatches my hands away from my face and pins them over my head in one huge, powerful hand. "No," he snarls, eyes blazing with fiery need. "I amnot."
He grabs a breast and squeezes it, nuzzles it.
"These." He bites my nipple suddenly and sharply, and I gasp, writhing in his grip. "I fantasized about giant, perfect tits like these."
"Fee," I whisper.
Keeping a firm, unbreakable hold on my pinioned wrists, he rolls me to my stomach. Puts his lips to my ears. “Can you leave your hands there if I let go?"
I nod. "Yeah."
He presses my hands into the mattress above my head. "Then leave them there. Donotmove."
"Okay," I breathe.
"This is a fantasy," he whispers into my ear. "This, right here. You, spread out for me. Helpless."
"Fee," I breathe again. I fight instinct, keep my wrists crossed as if tied together over my head, stretched out on my belly. "Please."
"Please, what, honey?" he asks. "What do you want?"
"You. Whatever you want. Do it to me. Please."
He kisses between my shoulder blades, growling. "Whatever I want?"
"Just don’t hurt me. I'm not into pain. Spanking, within reason, is fine. Biting is fine, obviously. But…no real pain."
"Never," he growls. "I'll never, ever hurt you."
He nips the sensitive skin at my side, licks the hollow at the base of my spine. Frames my ass in his hands and kisses the left cheek all over, the right. Nips here, licks there. Bites hard enough that I gasp, writhing, pushing my hips into the bed to escape the bite. Stretched out on my belly, I'm helpless to resist anything he wants to do to me, and I love it. Because I trust him. I love him. And…this is fun. I love not knowing what he'll do next.
He slips a hand under me, and then his fingers are inside me and I'm drenched with need and panting before he's done anything. I lift my hips, pushing my ass into the air to make room for his hand, but he presses his other hand on the small of my back, pushing me down into his touch, leaving me nowhere to go, no way to escape the intensity of how I know he's about to make me feel.
And oh god, it's incredible. He takes his time, slowly driving one and then two and then three fingers inside me until I'm shaking and whimpering and on the cusp of coming, and then he presses those slick fingers to my clit and brings me right back the edge again—back and forth, back and forth, finger-fucking my channel and then my clit, never letting me actually come until the hot pulsing need is a hurricane in my core, my channel pulsing around his fingers, my clit swollen and throbbing, my nipples aching, my every muscle tensed. I can't breathe, too fraught with the need to come to be able to suck in a full breath—there's no room for both my breath and the titanic immensity of the orgasm he's building inside me.
And then, just when I think he's going to finally let me come, his fingers plunging in and out of me hard and fast—
He stops.
Guides me so my knees are under my belly and spread apart, ass high, core exposed, breast and belly and face in the bed, arms extended. I feel him moving, feel his absence, and then his hair tickles my thighs and then—
"FUCK!" I scream, jerking as orgasm threatens to blow open inside me—he's beneath me, his mouth on my sex, lips fused to my clit, tongue driving inside me.
I'm utterly powerless to hold back. All I can do is come—shaking, crying, screaming as he devours me like a last meal. His hands clutch my ass and hold me in place, encouraging me to grind on his mouth, ride his face. I have no control. There's only wild abandon. I fuck his face, screaming until my throat is sore as he licks and tongues and suckles me to climax so potent I feel almost paralyzed by the intensity of it.
Which is when he pulls away and flips me to my back, working his fingers inside me with his palm pressed to my clit and ravages me like that, fingers inside me, palm pressing on my clit—and his touch hits something inside me, something that breaks me, shatters me, destroys me. I have nothing left—no more screams, no more breath, no more thrashing or contorting. The world is all white heat and pulsating glory, blazing and wild detonation, heels in the bed, hips high, clutching his shoulders with clawed fingers until I know he'll have bruises, and yet he doesn't relent, keeps me on that runaway train of colossal climax.
The shattering becomes a dissolution of self, and I feel another layer of my being come apart, another layer of resistance snap, and I feel that same rush at my core as my resistance is utterly eradicated. The wet gush floods out of me as my mouth works silently, my whole body spasming, jerking, shuddering, twitching, thrashing, and I still can't scream or cry or breathe.
