And now he’s faltering with his cock deep, shaking, grinding, and I feel him tensing, feel his balls tighten. He takes both of my hips in his big strong hands and lifts me off the ground and jerks me back against his body, sets me down on my tip-toes and then pulls me backward, and I’m nothing but putty in his hands, gasping crying sobbing begging wet clay for him to shape.

“Oh…fuck…Echo…” he gasps, pulling back and thrusting again deep and hard so my body jolts forward and a spear of bliss tears through me, ecstasy so potent it hurts.

“Come, Benji. Come in me,” I beg, breathless, “or come on me, do what you want Ben, take me, fuck me, use me.”

“How about I love you forever?” he says, and taunts me with sudden shallow thrusts.

“God yes, I want that, and I want to love you forever too…but Ben?”

“Yeah, Echo?”

“Shut up and let me feel you come.”

“I don’t want it to end. I want this to last forever.”

But now I’m so hypersensitive from having just come, so limp and so sated that I can’t take another thrust, can’t take another slap of his body against mine, and I just want to touch him and feel him and accept the wet thick heat of his come wherever I can get it, but I simply cannot take another pounding fuck of his body. That’s a problem I’ve never had before.

Ben lets me push him away and stands shakily as I twist and collapse backward to sit on the edge of the bed, staring in awe at his wet gleaming cock as it sways proudly before me, and he’s shaking, gasping, groaning, his muscles stand hard and tensed. I take his cock in my hands and caress his length slowly. He shoves his hips forward, fucking into my grip. His eyes stay hot on mine, and I lean forward and wrap my lips around his head and suck once, gently, and then extend my tongue to lick my essence off his taut dusky flesh, tasting my musk and his salt, and then I swirl my tongue around the head, pump my hands gently and slowly and teasingly soft around his base. He groans, sways in front of me, about to collapse, about to explode.

I’m watching him, tilting my head to one side so I keep his cock in my mouth and still see him at the same time, and I feel his gaze like the heat of fire on my skin. I cup my hand over his balls, squeeze and massage them until he groans, and then I feel his body tighten to coiled-serpent tautness. I keep my eyes on his, arch my back, squeeze his shaft and stroke his length hard and fast now, watching him, watching him watch me. I pull his cock downward and he fucks into my grip.

I lick the head, slide the flat of my tongue over the very tip of him to taste his readiness. “Come on me, Ben. Come all over me.”

“Fuck, Echo, Jesus, I’m coming…”

And he is, ohmyfuckinggod, he’s shooting a thick wet white flood of come. It hits my lips first, and I lick it away, and it trickles down my throat both inside and out, and he’s stilled with his hips flexed as I massage his taut heavy tensing balls and finger his taint and pump his considerable length, stroke all the glorious dark seed-spitting inches of his beautiful cock. He groans wordlessly as his dick twitches in my hand and then another stream leaves him and sloshes onto my chest and down between my tits, and I angle my torso so his seed spills in dripping rivulets on each of my tits and over my nipples and down my stomach and he’s watching with heavy-lidded eyes.

And then, as he flexes and thrusts again, I tongue his head and wrap my lips around his thickness and take him down my throat, angle my head and body so I can take him until he’s fucking my throat and coming one more time. I back away and let him send a mouthful of come onto my tongue and swallow it and suck until he’s gasping and cursing and pulling away.

He collapses onto the bed beside me, and I lie back beside him, his come cooling on my skin.

Ben pulls me to lie on his chest. “Holy shit, Echo.”

“Holy shit, Ben,” I agree.

His voice is a low, sated, pleased rumble under my ear. “I’ve dreamed about fucking you like that for so long. I literally dreamed about it, having your ass spread out for me as I take you from behind…”

“Did it feel as good as you dreamed?” I ask.

“Jesus, Echo…better, so much better,” he says, cradling me to him, cupping my hip in his warm, strong hand.

He rests for a moment like that, and then sits up, scans my room, and spies the towel on the floor from my shower, and retrieves it. Gently, carefully, lovingly, he cleans the mess off my skin, folding and re-folding the towel and wiping until I’m clean.

And then he cradles me in his arms and settles us on the bed, my head on his chest and his heartbeat in my ear, and covers us with the blankets.

Within seconds, we’re both asleep.

* * *

I wake up with sunlight on my skin, Ben’s hand on my hip, and a screaming bladder. I worm out from under Ben’s touch and creep naked out of the room and into the bathroom. When I’m done, I discover that Brayden left a note explaining that he’d left early in the morning, knowing we’d want privacy, and to call him when it was safe to come back.

I grin, knowing it’ll be awhile.

When I close my bedroom door behind me, Ben is awake and watching me, the blanket draped over his hips. I stop at the foot of the bed, admiring his gorgeous frame, the heavy muscles and the dark olive skin, the hungry heat in his brown eyes and how his messy black hair hangs over his forehead. I trace his pecs with my eyes and the V-cut where his abs disappear under the sheet. His biceps are thick and his hands are curled loosely where he has them tucked behind his head. He is, in short, utterly gorgeous, and all mine. I crawl onto the bed and paw away the sheet to bare his erection. I prowl up his body until I’m straddling him, and I curl my arms around his neck and clutch him to kiss him dizzy. His hands go to my skin, down my waist and my back to cup my ass and I wiggle against his touch, push my ass back into his hands. He grips my butt in his strong hands and caresses it until I’m ready to purr. I stretch like a cat, tensing every muscle, and then I settle myself on him, my thighs around his waist, shins to the bed, face buried in the side of his neck, his nose in my hair. His hands refuse to relinquish their hold on my ass, and I don’t want him to.

In fact…

I touch my lips to his ear. “Hey, Benji-boy?”

“My love?”

I pull back to stare at him, momentarily stunned by the easy way he said that, and by the way my heart squeezed—but in utter inexpressible joy, rather than fear.

I reclaim my thoughts, and writhe against his hold on my ass. “I like this.”




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