“There’s a v-vein on the…”
“There is, yeah,” he tells me. “And every time you’re close, it fucking throbs like a maniac.”
I lick my lips, fascinated. “You mean like, m-my pulse. On my neck.”
“Yeah. Just like that,” he says. “And you know why it does that?”
“Why?”
“Because I always knew it. I always knew you’d feel like a dream. And you do. You feel like a fucking dream, baby”
“Oh.”
“You know I have dreamed about this, don’t you?” he asks, his tone hypnotic.
“Yes.”
“I have. A million times,” he goes on. “I’ve dreamed about sliding into you. Stretching you out. Stretching out your tight, tight,so fucking tightpussy.”
His words stutter at the end and I know he must be so close to losing patience. And I know for a fact, he isn’t a patient man. But he’s being that, for me. He’s being patient and gentle and so fucking good for me too.
So it’s only fair I tell him that. “Y-you’re being good too.
His chest shudders then as he chuckles, without much humor though. “Yeah?”
“For me.”
Another harsh breath. Then, “So you don’t hate me?”
It sounds so boyish, this question, coming out of his mouth that my heart squeezes inside my chest. It cracks a little bit, in the center and all my emotions bleed out as I whisper, “I could never hate you.”
He untucks his face from my neck and looks at me, his features hard and sweaty, his eyes dark and drugged. “Not even if I tell you that your pussy is sucking me in so good, I could come. Just like that. I could come inside of you right now and all you have to do is tell me you’re my good girl.”
“But I-I am your good girl,” I whisper.
And he jerks against me, inside of me, his eyes clenching shut. “Fuck, don’t.”
I know I should’ve felt pain at that, at his sudden movement and I did. But it’s easier to focus away from it. It’s easier to focus on him. On his loss of control and I whisper again, “But I’m also your slut.”
He jerks again and moans.
So I keep going, “And I’ll do anything you want me to. I’ll do anything you m-make me do and I’ll love it. I’ll l-love it so much, Shepard and I?—”
“Fuck, stop,” he groans, his dick pulsing inside me now in a constant rhythm. “I still n-need to make it good for you.”
I moan and arch my back slightly. “You a-already are. You?—”
“Not enough,” he says. “Not when this is the exact spot.”
“What spot?”
“Where you spoke to me for the first time.”
“The night of your?—”
“Yeah,” he cuts me off as if he doesn’t want me to say it. He doesn’t want any reminders of that when we’re doing this. When we’re so close. When he’s throbbing inside of me.
I tug at his hair then. “You told me to stay away from you that night.”
