C12 To myself

Lying in bed, curled against him, his hand was a possessive band across her stomach, but of its own accord, his hand kept curling higher, his fingers finding her breasts even in sleep, so she moaned softly, wanting him again, despite how often they’d been together the night before. She didn’t know if he was fully awake or not, but suddenly he moved, curling his other hand under her so it could take over the touching of her way too sensitive breasts, and the hand that rested on top of her could snake lower, finding her sex and teasing her there until stars filled her eyes and she almost lost her breath. Pleasure built inside of her, and when he pressed his rock-hard arousal to her back, to the curve of her buttocks, she pressed back against him, inviting him, needing him, wanting him to be everywhere inside of her and on her body, all at once.

“Please,” she whispered, wondering how many times she’d said that word with him? She begged him as a matter of course, and she didn’t even care. It was just physical, a rare, overpowering need to be with him, that meant nothing because, at the end of the day, they were two intelligent people who would never let their bodies run their lives. This was an aberration, made totally acceptable by the fact they both knew when and why it would end.

His hand between her legs moved faster, pushing thoughts from her mind, and he tugged on her nipples in a way that made her wonder if he was actually a sexual savant, because he seemed to know exactly what she liked, and how to give it to her.

But Beth had been pleasured by him all night, and she wanted to drive him wild. She wanted to make him cry out with a sense of mindless pleasure, so she rolled over, with true regret, because his touch had been one of the closest things to perfection she’d ever known.

She kissed his chest first, his nipples, teasing them with her teeth before running her mouth lower, and lower, taking his arousal deep in her mouth, just like she had in the forest. She loved this—she especially loved how it affected him. She could tell he loved it, needed it, craved it, yet he never asked it of her. This was always something she initiated, and she liked that he saw a boundary there and wasn’t willing to cross it.

She looked up his body, saw the way he was straining to hold onto his control and smiled against him. She didn’t want him to hold onto his control though. She wanted him to lose it completely—and she wanted to know it was because of her.

“Do you like this?” she asked, running her tongue from his tip to his base, then back again.

“Beth…” His voice held a warning.

“And this?” she asked, enclosing him with her mouth and drawing him all the way to the back of her throat.

He swore then, a guttural sound that was wrenched from his body.

“Put your hands on my head,” she invited, her eyes sparking with his. “Show me how you want it.”

“Beth—,” Back to warning. “Don’t ask that.”

“Show me,” she said. “I trust you.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” She took him deep again. “I can pull away if I need to.”

He grunted and then, slowly, put his hands on her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, but he was so tentative when at first he pushed her mouth a little lower on his length.

She pulled away.

“Are you okay?” His concern for her ripped something in her chest, but she brushed it aside.

“I’m a big girl, and I’m telling you: I want this. Please,” she asked again, so his eyes glittered when they met hers, and this time, when he pulled her face down over his length, there was no hesitation. He held her right there, deep and low, and she moved her tongue against him, so he barked her name into the room. Another shift, drawing her back to his tip, leaving her there, letting her breathe before he did the same motion, and her pulse went crazy as she tasted a hint of him in her mouth.

Each movement was perfection. She loved the way it felt to have him in her mouth, filling her up. As he took over, she moved a hand between her legs, touching herself in the space there that promised utmost pleasure, and he groaned, perhaps at the sight of it.

Another curse, and another taste of his salty essence, and then he was pulling her up his body, dragging her to his mouth and kissing her, his arousal so hard between them.

“I want to come inside you,” he groaned. “Not here,” he kissed her. “But here,” and now it was his hand on her sex, so she whimpered at the possessive touch, as demanding as his hands had ended up being on her head, at her invitation.

He reached sideways, grabbing a condom and pressing it down with military speed and precision—an efficiency she sure as hell appreciated.

“But like this,” he commanded, voice rough, as he positioned her on all fours and knelt behind her, spreading her legs with his own. He brought one hand around to her most sensitive cluster of nerves, the other wrapped over her breasts, teasing them, and he drove into her from behind, in a way that filled her up, utterly and completely.

He was rough and she loved it. He fitted her so perfectly, his touch was heaven. She cried his name out over and over and the faster he went, the more he touched, the deeper her orgasm became, so eventually, she was just riding a never-ending wave of pleasure and feeling, unsure if she’d ever be able to speak again because surely this was the equivalent of some kind of sexual lobotomy.

Afterwards, it was Beth who swore, her voice hoarse, her face hot, her body sheened in perspiration.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of this,” she said, falling flat onto her stomach, pleased that he came down with her, his weight on top of hers a connection she relished.

“We have a few days to try,” he said, simply, and she told herself she was glad. That no matter how amazing things were between them in bed, it didn’t change anything. This was temporary, meaningless, and in a few days, it would all be over. Just as they’d said all along.

"I intend to keep you to myself for a little while before sending you off to a hot billionaire" Ryan smirked