“Did they make you come?”
“No.”
“I do. Reward me by going faster, and we’ll both come.”
“You already did,” she grumbles.
“You need to stop treating my dick like it’s one from Earth.”
"You think you can come already again? It hasn't even been a half-hour!"
“I can, and I will, but only if you go faster!”
I find her clit again and rub it, going a little faster than she prefers, but with the way she’s not frantic against me, I can tell that she approves. Maybe sometimes, she likes it as rough as I do.
Speaking of rough, I quickly make Sophia orgasm. Her walls clench against me tightly, but as hard as she’s going, I need more, and my hands fall to her hips. I drive into her again and again and again, my fingers digging deep into her pale skin. My hips buck up, driving me deeper and deeper into her, faster, harder.
“Do you like that?” I grunt.
“Y… Y… Yes!” She can barely get the word out because of all of her moaning. Her head is thrown back, her neck glistening from where I kissed and licked it, and the sight is glorious, the bruises too, the ones already fading and the new ones.
I’m not sure if I can remain on the bottom if I’m going to orgasm, but then she lowers her head and stares down at me, a gleam in her eyes. She reaches behind her and cups my balls.
That, combined with a forceful thrust, has me orgasming. She cries out my name as she comes at the same time, and it's wonderful. It's perfect.
But it’s not enough.
I bring her down, hugging her and flipping us over so I’m on top, and I resume my thrusts.
“You can’t get enough, can you?” she teases.
“There’s never getting enough of you,” I pant.
“Never, huh?”
“Not… ever.” I time my response with thrusts.
She reaches up and pats my cheek, her caress soft and gentle, but then she grabs my shoulders.
“Come on, boy,” she murmurs. “Can’t you go harder than that?”
I pound into her, giving her all I have, and right when I think I’m almost ready to climax again, she puts her hand to my throat.
I still. What does she want from me?
Her hand slides down to my chest, resting above my frantically beating heart.
“Tox?”
"Yes?" The word comes out a groan because he's killing me. There's no other word for it. I am being killed. Death by sex. Death by delayed gratification. Lust overload.
Or maybe it’s love overload.
It’s definitely love overload. That’s the only possible explanation as to how it can be that I’m not thrusting inside her right now.
“It’s too much,” she whispers.
“What is?” My heart aches. If she can’t handle this, we’ll stop. I don’t want to overwhelm her.
“I just…” She closes her eyes and shakes her head.
I kiss her forehead. “Talk to me.”
She wiggles beneath me, and I can’t help moaning. My cock is still inside her, and the erection is starting to hurt because I’m not thrusting. I need release and soon, or else a ball might explode.
“I’ve never orgasmed so strongly before,” she murmurs. “it’s almost… too much.”
I stifle a laugh. She’s serious.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” I ask.
“No! It’s… It’s too much! I can’t handle it!”
“Then you need to orgasm more,” I suggest.
She playfully slaps my shoulder. “Why am I not surprised that that’s your solution?”
“Can’t hurt to test out my theory, right?” I grin at her.
“You do realize you’re impossible, right?” she asks dryly.
“I try.”
“You don’t try. You succeed.”
“There’s only one way I want to succeed.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“And that’s giving you the strongest orgasm ever.”
Sophia bites her lower lip and then leans forward to nibble on mine. I groan and pull back.
“If you do that, I’m going to start going again,” I warn.
She giggles and nibbles on my lip again.
“So fucking hot.”
We continue to make love for so long that I don’t know how long we take. At one point, Sophia slows things down again, and she’s sweet and tender, kissing near my wound as if that would heal it and make it all better.
Yes, we're making love. This isn't fucking. It's not having sex.
It's so much more than that.
It’s an expression of my love for her.
It’s how I show and share my love.
All I want is to give her all of me, my body, my cock, my heart, my mind, my soul.
Everything that I have, everything I can give, I offer it all to her, and she accepts it.
And she gives back too.
After countless orgasms, we’re both spent, and she curls up on my good side, her head on my chest, and a wave of happiness washes over me.
This is peace.
This is happiness.
This is all I ever could have hoped for.
I would give anything to ensure this is my future forever.
My eyes close, and I love the way she fits against me. She’s tiny compared to me, short, but we can make it work.
We can so make it work.
We can make everything work.
I rub her back, enjoying the feel of her velvety skin beneath my palm. Eventually, I stop rubbing, though, so very content just holding her that I’m lulled into a sense of contentment I’ve never felt before.
A few moments later, her phone rings. My eyes don’t open, and I don’t move as she shifts slightly to retrieve her phone from her clothes.
She's lying against me, but more beside me than on top of me like she was curled up before. I miss her warmth, her presence, the pressure of her body on me, but that's all right. We'll have time to cuddle more once she's done on the phone because I'm guessing that she's going to answer.
“Yes? Hi, General.”
Yep. She answered.
“What can I do for you?” Sophia asks.
I wonder what the general wants. Does it have anything to do with finding John Doe’s hideout? Does he have some kind of master plan that’s been kicked off?
There’s a short
