I palm her hips and kiss her throat, bend and kiss the valley between her perfect breasts, move to my knees and cup the backs of her thighs and her ass, kiss the dip between hip and core. She gasps and buries her fingers in my hair, and I gaze up at her, and then nudge her thighs apart and prepare to worship her.
SIXTEEN: Newborn Love: River of Passion
Echo
I can’t breathe, can’t move, can only clutch at his hair and gasp for breath. I can only try to remain upright and swallow past the hammering of my pulse in my throat and chest.
My Ben, my Benji, he’s on his knees in front of me, both hands curved against the bubble of my ass. I’m standing with my feet wide apart, spine arched inward, head hanging back on my shoulders, trying not to scream as he laps at my core. Screaming isn’t possible, I realize, because I’m totally breathless. But I need to scream, need to, because I haven’t felt his touch in so long, haven’t felt this good in…ever. I haven’t even touched myself since I came back from Texas. The last orgasm I had, Ben gave me. I’m swollen with heated need, aching with the pressure of built-up desire, because even through my guilt and grief and drunken wallowing, I needed Ben, wanted him. If I wasn’t fighting tears or trying to keep myself coherent despite the whiskey, I was dreaming of him and aching for his touch. And now I have him here and I have his touch and I won’t ever ever, ever let him go. God, my fucking god, no, I’ll never let him stop touching me. I won’t let him get dressed, even. I’ll keep him naked forever, oh yes, I’ll keep his huge muscled frame close and his hot skin bare, and his hard thick cock buried inside me…but right now all I want, all I need, all I can even conceive of is his talented hungry mouth eating me out like he’s never tasted anything so delicious as my quivering, quaking folds. I’m so greedy for this, aching for this. I cup his head and press him closer, grind my hips to get his tongue deeper into my opening, harder against my swollen clit.
I hear words pouring out of me, and don’t even try to edit them. “Oh yeah, Ben, don’t stop! Eat me, Ben, eat my pussy…oh god it’s good, so good…yes, yes!…oh fucking yes!”
He growls and his tongue swipes up my pussy, and I jerk as the tip of his tongue swats at my clit, and I nearly buckle when his lips close around that sensitive, delicate, needy little bundle of flesh and nerves and sucks and his tongue swirls around it. And just like that, within moments of his mouth latching onto me I’m ready to come, ready to explode around his mouth, and he knows it, feels it, hears it.
And he abruptly quits all contact with my pussy, stands up and ignores my wordless wail of protest. I reach for him, but he grabs my hands in both of his and spins me in a circle so I’m facing away from him. I gasp in shock when he shoves his big body up against mine, pressing the thick ridge of his cock between the globes of my ass, and his hands cup my tits, grasping roughly and thumbing my nipples until I wince and gasp and my knees dip. He’s all over me, all around me, huge and hot behind me. His mouth is on the ridge of my shoulder and now at my neck, and then at my throat, and I tilt my head to bare my throat for him. He accepts my offering, and his mouth sucks at my throat, and his hips grind against me. I whimper and writhe my ass against his cock, needing pressure, needing touch, my folds are aching and my clit is throbbing and I’m fading away from the edge of orgasm and I could scream from the desperate need to fall over that edge.
He has my hands imprisoned in one of his, held in front of my body so I can’t reach for him, can’t try to get his shorts off like I want to. I need him as bare as I am, need all of his skin naked against mine. But he’s got me in his thrall, and I don’t dare fight him for fear he’ll refuse to let me come. I hold utterly still as his free hand steals down my belly and slips over my core, cups my pussy; I don’t even breathe as his middle finger penetrates my folds and delves into me, and I don’t dare even breathe as his palm presses against my clit. I’m paralyzed, needing this so badly it’s all that exists. He adds a second finger, his ring finger, and he’s knuckle-deep inside me, pinky and index finger lying along my inner thighs, thumb tucked in. His fingers reach in and up and curl, scrape, withdraw, slide in, and my pent-up breath explodes out of me in a groaning sigh when I feel the hot wire of orgasm go taut and white-hot. His fingers pinch my nipples, one and then the other, and I feel the tug in my belly and in my core. His mouth rasps against my throat, his teeth nip at my delicate skin, and his hips move, sliding his fabric-covered cock between my ass-cheeks.
“Ben…” I gasp, wanting to beg him to…I don’t even know what I want more, to come, to feel his naked cock against me, to feel him inside me? All of that, all at once. But I can’t get words out and so I just let him have his way.
His way, it turns out, is to finger-fuck me until I’m riding his hand, dipping at the knees and spreading my feet apart to get his fingers deeper and growling like an animal and writhing on his hand as he digs his fingers up and in and curls them and presses the heel of his palm against my clit.
“I’m gonna—oh god, oh god, oh fucking god—Ben, Jesus Ben…please don’t stop please don’t stop please let me come let me come—” I sound breathless and wanton and I’m begging shamelessly.
My thighs clench together and quake as my climax begins to wash over me, and I’m right there, teetering on the edge.
And his fingers are gone. I do scream now and turn to slap him or claw at him or attack him somehow, but he’s got his hands on my face and he’s kissing the living shit out of me, kissing the breath right out of my lungs until I have to break away.
His eyes are blazing hot, deep brown and dark with fiery need. He hooks his thumbs in his shorts and tugs them down until the V is bared and the head of his cock is bared. I reach for him, need to feel him, ready to do literally anything he asks to make him push me over that razor’s edge. But he knocks my hand away, grabs both my wrists in his strong fingers. His shorts are still halfway on, half of his huge dick bared to my view, and I can’t look away from it, wanting it, to touch it or lick it or feel it inside me.
I’m feral with need, and he knows it. He’s engineered my desire to this boiling point, and he’s got me where he wants me.
And then, with a slow smile, he pulls his shorts back up. “Are you close, Echo?”
I nod and tug at his hold on my wrists. “God yes, so close.”