Thank God.
When his thumbs run down the center of my exposed butt, I tense.
Oh, please God. No. Not there.
The very tip of his thumb gently passes over my rosebud and I can’t help it. Gripping the sheets tightly, my body becomes stiff, and I almost yell out stop. But I don’t.
His hand stills on me. The silence is thick. And awkward.
Then there’s Twitch, always thinking of the big picture. “You don’t want me to do this?” His thumb slides down my ass crack, stilling a moment where it makes me sweat. “I thought we had a deal. That this body was all mine tonight.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Placing his thumb back where I fear it most, he states, “This body is mine to do with what I want. And if you’re good, I’ll make you come. If you’re bad, I’ll leave you hanging. In saying that, I know you’re going to be a good girl. Because you definitely don’t want to disappoint me. Do you, Lexi?”
The thought of disappointing Twitch makes my stomach flip…in a bad way.
“No, Twitch.”
His thumb rubs the puckered flesh more firmly. Leaning over me, he spits right on my back entrance, and I tense as the wet warmth slowly slides down the parted flesh. My mind yells at me as he pushes the tip of his thumb into my back entrance half an inch. He doesn’t make a move to push it deeper. And I know what this is. I get it.
This is Twitch asserting his role. This is Twitch showing me who’s boss.
And even though the thought of his length up my wrong-end makes me cringe, I like the dominance he’s displaying. He’s turning me on so much that I all but forget where his thumb is. He continues his slow, torturous assault on me and I fell myself getting wetter. The thought of his length penetrating me there makes me cringe but his dominance is turning me on so much that I almost want it. This is just how I pictured it in my head.
Raw and gritty, and dirty as hell.
And it’s not often you see your fantasies come to life. This fantasy though? It’s scaring the shit out of me. I wonder if I’ll wake up soon to find this was all a dream.
Caught up in concentrating on my breathing, I haven’t even noticed Twitch move until he places the tip of his c**k at my entrance. The warmth of him makes me gasp lightly.
Oh, I want this so badly!
Removing his thumb from me, I breathe a sigh of relief, and leaning forward, he whispers into my ear, “Good girl.”
Gripping himself, he works the head of his c**k up and down my folds, transferring my arousal onto him. He doesn’t say a single word when he slowly pushes into me. I feel the balls of his piercing slide past my entrance, and it adds a sensation I’ve never felt before. I’m subconsciously aware of it being there, but not in a bad or distracting way. He doesn’t have to say a damn thing. He pushes further into me and I gasp lightly. The feel of him – the thickness of him – makes me feel fuller than I’ve ever been. I feel as if a lost part of me has returned.
A dangerous thought. One I don’t actually want to think about.
My eyes close, and I let out a soft sigh as his hand comes around my waist once more, and he pulls me back gently as he pushes forward. It’s a strange feeling! The balls of his piercing hit something deep inside of me, and my entire body tingles. Toes curling, I grip the sheets tightly and moan out loud. I yelp when Twitch nips my back and answers my unasked question, “That’s your G-Spot, babe.”
I think it takes a selfless man to pierce his c**k just for the pleasure of women.
Fully seated on him, he waits a moment for me to adjust before he orders quietly, “Put your hands behind your back, Lexi.”
Having my G-Spot tickled, I don’t even bat a lash at his request. My hands meet at the small of my back and he holds them both in one of his humungous ones. He pushes a little too deep into me and a twinge of pain hits my belly, but quickly enough, he pulls back and begins to rock into me.
Oh. My. God.
Mouth parted, my breathing deepens even further and my eyes roll back into my head.
He’s good. Really good.
Angling himself to the left side of my body, with every short thrust, he hits that same spot over and over. And suddenly, my body burns up, my core begins to contract, and I push back into him.
Then he’s gone.
What the f**k in f**king hell? What the f**k, Twitch? Goddamn it!
Face framed in an expression of disbelief, I turn back to find Twitch sitting back on his heels, lips pursed in disappointment. I ask heatedly, “What the f**k? Why’d you stop?”
Leaning forward, so close, his nose almost touches mine; his eyes pierce mine when he explains, “You are not in charge here. You don’t get to come without me allowing it. I am responsible for your orgasm, not you. You get me, girl?”
I don’t really understand, but I want this stupid conversation to end so he can stuff me like a Thanksgiving turkey again. I nod, and he asks, “Then why are you pushing back on me and trying to take control?”
Feeling a bit like a child being told off, I pout and dip my chin. “I didn’t realize I was. This is new to me, Twitch. I’m used to participating. Sorry.”
In my peripheral vision, I see his hands move to his hips. He breathes deep and replies on an exhale, “You’re seriously f**king up my mojo right now.”
And I can’t help it.
I burst into laughter.
This is the strangest sexual encounter I’ve ever had. In my life. Still chuckling, I look up at Twitch.
He doesn’t look amused.
Rolling my eyes, I mimic his position and sit back on my heels. “Oh, come on. You don’t think this is even a little funny? I’m in bed with a stranger who won’t let me participate in sex…” Flipping the end of the belt with the tips of my fingers, I add, “I have a belt around my neck, and the guy I’m f**king tells me I’m making him lose his mojo! But no, not any guy. A guy who stalks me on a daily basis! A guy who saved me from being raped! This whole situation…it’s f**king ridiculous!” I exclaim on a chuckle.
When Twitch’s face doesn’t show any signs of him finding my story amusing, my chuckles die a slow death. I sit back on my heels and watch him through weary eyes.
Then something miraculous happens.
His lip curves up in what is the most gorgeous, gleaming smile I’ve ever seen. And it’s contagious. Smiling back at him, he scratches his chin and admits confusedly, “This was not what I had planned for tonight.”
Suddenly nervous, I admit back, “Me either.”