I laugh again but nod eagerly, and then with deft hands he flips me over. One hand presses gently on my shoulder blades, while the other massages along the curve of my ass until he dips between my thighs, grazing across my pussy with each gentle stroke of my leg.
“Be a good girl for me, Piper. You are going to fuck my fingers until you make yourself come, and then I am going to fill you with my cock.”
I shift on the bed, moving my ass up into the air.
“There’s my good girl.” He slips his fingers easily into my wet pussy, curving inside me to stroke my walls. His thumb moves to graze my clit.
“Now, use me, Piper,” he growls. “Grind that sweet pussy on my hand and make yourself cum.”
It’s so easy to do what he says now, turn off my brain and let him be in control. I move my hips backward against him until the pressure and the roughness of his hand send a delightful spark through me.
“Feel how wet you get for me? How easy it is for me to use you?” He purrs and that only sets me off more.
I can’t see him, but I can hear the grin in his voice. I grind my hips against him, the solid comfort of his fingers. He’s so good, so warm and solid. I lose myself in the feeling. Letting my thoughts fade and my body take control, slowly at first, and picking up pace as the feelings roll through me. His fingers pound into me, while I moan and drool and mutter his name into the pillows in between profanities. I come at least once, in a powerful flash through my body, but I don’t let it stop me, continuing to fuck his hand with aggressive enthusiasm until I can barely breathe.
He finally pulls his hand away with a little growl, leaving a void inside me. I can barely moan in protest before he is wrapping his hands around my hips, jerking them up and back so he can wrap his claspers around me, holding me in place while his aedeagus begins a slow powerful penetration. Filling, and twisting, and pushing his thick heat into me.
“Fuck, Piper.” He groans my name over and over while he takes me. His hand wraps around the back of my neck to hold me in place. My body is too relaxed and weak to do anything but succumb to him. I wouldn’t move even if I could. I love the way he fills me, the way he claims me. I love the way he says my name, like I am the only thing in the world. I love the way he praises me and provides for me. The way he gives me everything I could ever want.
He comes with a rolling shudder that fills me with heat.
This time, I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes before he’s even pulled out.
I roll into the pillow, trying to hide my face from him.
But Ant’s hands wrap around my chin and pull me to look at him.
“My flame,” he whispers. His face contorts with concern, his fingers wiping at the corners of my eyes. “What stupid thing have I done wrong this time?”
I shake my head, not wanting to admit I’m only overwhelmed by my own emotions. “It’s nothing. I’m tired of being mad at you. I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
“What are you pretending?”
“That we are just friends. I want—to be more than just friends.”
“More than friends?” he asks. “Like what?”
“Like—” I pause, feeling a long strain of conflicting emotions. Everything has gotten so indefinably complicated—the texting, the sex, the presents, the feelings of guilt, like I am taking advantage of his kindness.
“Like—bestfriends?” he asks with a gentle chuckle.
“Ugh.” I push him away playfully.
He grabs my hand and pulls it to his mouth, pressing a little kiss to my knuckles. “What do you want?”
“Just hold me? Please.”
“That was never optional.” He rolls onto his side so that his wings drape over the edge of my bed, and tucks me into his arms. I push my face into his chest, breathing in his vanilla scent, and letting my fingers play along his wiry muscles. His arms stroke along my back and his gentle purr hits my ears. “What if we went to the wedding next weekend together?”
“Aren’t we already going together?” I ask.
“What if I bring my girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?”
“Yes.” He chuckles.
“Do you want to call and ask her?” I tease.
