Home > Trashed (Stripped #2)(33)

Trashed (Stripped #2)(33)
Author: Jasinda Wilder

“Look at me when you come, Des,” I order, taking one hand from her hip to tilt her chin up. She resists, burying her face deeper in my neck, so I grab a handful of hair near her scalp and tug gently but insistently as she shrieks wordlessly. “Look at me, babe, let me see those big brown eyes while you come.”

She brings her head up, and she can barely keep her eyes open, but she fixes them on me and her mouth is wide and her fingers dig almost painfully into my chest, and she’s grinding on me, her pussy sliding wet and slick up and down on my cock, which throbs with the need to come, but I hold it. I hold it.

And she comes. Lifts up, almost losing my cock in the process, and then slams down. Gasps. Lifts up, hesitates, and slams down again, and this time she actually screams, a loud, rasping sound of release.

I use that moment to flip her off me, levering her onto her back, and then guiding her onto her stomach. I settle behind her, lift her up by the hips, and she moves with me, bringing that big fine round ass of hers to face me, baring it for me, presenting it to me. I palm it, taking a second to appreciate it, and then I move to my knees, reach between her thighs to find her opening and guide my cock in. I’m throbbing painfully, aching, thick and fighting the urge to come right then. She rests on her shins and elbows, and sucks in a sharp breath as I slide fully into her in one smooth thrust.

She lets the breath out slowly and shakily as I pull back slowly and push in even more gradually. I want to take my time with this. Make it last. Savor it. I hold her ass in both hands, caressing each cheek with my palms. I can’t hold back any longer, then. It feels too good. She pushes back against me as I thrust slowly, rhythmically. Again, and again. And now I feel the come boiling in my balls, feeling desperation welling up inside me, and I’m moving faster.

Des is moaning too, now, and the sound of her voice, the vocal evidence of her enjoyment of this has me driving harder, deeper, and that only makes her louder, and I’m close to losing it. She stretches out her hands in front of herself, grips the sheet in both fists, and then snakes one hand between her legs.

“Yes, Des, touch yourself. Touch your clit while I fuck you.”

“Are you gonna come soon?”

“Yeah, babe, I’m close…I’m right there.”

I take the crook of her hips in my hands and pull her back into my thrusts, and now the room is filled with my grunts of exertion and the sound of my thighs slapping against hers, my hips and stomach smacking against her ass as my cock fills her. I feel her fingers moving, and now she’s whimpering in time with me, her hips meeting mine thrust after thrust.

“Now, Adam, come now. I’m coming again too. Oh god, oh my fucking god…” Her voice goes hoarse and she presses her torso to the mattress, and I slide even deeper.

“Oh fuck, Des. So good. I’m coming so hard.” I grunt the words, bite them out, and then I can’t form words because I’m exploding and she’s pushing back hard and fast into me.

My entire body seizes and it feels like fire pours through my veins and coalesces in my gut, shooting out of me, emptying me. Her orgasm has her shaking and growling and grinding her ass against me, and I feel the walls of her pussy clamp down around my cock, and I’m still coming, unable to control or temper the driving slam of my hips. She takes it, takes every hard crash of my body into hers, and moans in pleasure for more.

God, she’s heaven, she’s shaped perfectly to take all I’ve got and she loves it, needs it, wants it. That’s what I feel coming from her, in that moment, and I wonder if I’ll think differently when the moment is gone, when our heat is spent.

She falls forward and I let her, pull out and take a moment to rest before stripping the condom off and cleaning myself. When I get back to the bed, she’s lying on her back and watching me, her eyes going to the bounce and sway of my softening dick, then to my eyes.

Neither of us speaks as I cradle her against me. She settles in easily, naturally, fitting into the sheltering nook of my arms and we are like two pieces of a puzzle fitting together.

She falls asleep quickly, and I’m not far behind.

* * *

I’m panicking. God, am I panicking. Adam is up and about already, even though we were up till after one this morning and it’s barely eight. He’s ordered breakfast and he doesn’t know I’m awake.

I don’t want to go home. I don’t want him to go back to L.A. I’m watching him through slitted eyes, and my heart squeezes. Last night he was so attentive, so gentle, so sweet. Until the end, when he started to lose it, and then he was powerful and primal, and that was honestly the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced, the way he flipped me over and positioned me the way he wanted, and just…took me.

I wouldn’t mind letting him have his way with me more often. I would play games with him, play hard to get and make him take me. I’d push him around and take him for myself, when I wanted.

But that won’t happen.

He’s leaving, and in a week I’ll be headed back to Detroit for morning classes and late-night classroom cleaning. And we’ll never meet again. This is all I’ll have with him, so I’m trying to absorb it all. Soak up the hard lines and angles of his body, the heavy planes of muscles, the slabs of masculine strength. The intelligent pastel green of his eyes, the gentle power of his hands.

The way he kisses me, like he’s trying to devour me, and drown in me, and subsume me in his essence all at once.

The way he moves into me, slow and careful until he can’t hold back and loses control and turns into a huge hard and hungry beast, a beast that is sexy and dominant and exotic and headily addictive.

I’m so fucking sore. Or…sore from fucking. My thighs ache, the muscles burning from exertion. My sex is what hurts the worst, though. It’s a sensation I can’t really describe, even to myself. It’s a soreness, a stretched-out feeling, a post-fullness burn…and I love it. It’s an incredible sensation.

I’m not a virgin any longer.

I want to squeal and kick my feet, especially when my eyes land on the extreme hotness that is Adam Trenton, shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts low on his hips. There’s the V of abdominal muscles leading down to his cock, and god, I want that again. See it. Feel it.

Maybe even taste it.

My heart flips and flops and my stomach goes weightless and my mind whirls. I can’t believe the past two days have been real. That I’m really here, naked, in Adam Trenton’s bed. That we just had mind-blowing sex…

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