“Okay,” he echoed. He almost sounded as eager and nervous as I felt, which only synched me in with him more. So when he touched me there with the blunt head of his cock, I whimpered.
“Oh God. Please.”
The head entered me and I sucked in a breath, bowing my face as I soaked in the sensation. He slowly applied pressure, filling me and stretching my womb to accommodate himself. I felt every freaking centimeter.
“Holy...fuck,” he gritted out, gripping my waist hard enough that his fingers bit into my skin. “You’re so...damn...tight.” He blew out a breath as he seated himself completely, all of him in all of me.
I couldn’t remember ever feeling this full with Sander. Not that I was thinking about him, but he was my only other point of reference, and I had definitely never experienced this much stretching before. Oren felt so...I don’t know, huge, maybe. He was crammed in almost too tight, as if there was no room for anything else. All I could feel was him, and it was delicious and perfect and—
“Oh God!” I yelped as he shifted ever so slightly, hitting something that shot off a spasm that consumed me entirely. “Right there. Right there. You found it. Don’t move.” I wanted to freeze this moment in all eternity and memorize the feel of him lodged deep, filling me, and consuming me. I just needed a second to appreciate the wonder—
“Don’t move?” he yelped, repeating my instructions. “Are you insane? You can’t let a guy into pussy heaven and then tell him not to move.”
So, of course, he moved, sliding most of the way out, until I was gasping and clutching the table harder, pressing my forehead to the flat wooden surface. And then he shoved right back in.
“Oren,” I whimpered. Seated deep, he’d felt amazing. But moving and rubbing his cock against every nerve ending in my channel was pure torture, amazing, marvelous torture. Inner muscles were quivering and contracting out of control around him. None of my previous orgasms—not even the self-inflicted ones—had ever had such an extreme buildup.
Grabbing my hair—and not too gently—he thrust again and growled into my ear. “Stop...calling...me—”
But I was too busy coming to care what name I was shouting, so I just kept chanting, “Ohmigod, ohmigod, Orrrrrennnn.”
He cursed and pounded harder, pulling my hair snugger and growling out his own release as I pulsed around him, my nipples throbbing and core convulsing with every tug on my scalp.
It was the single greatest orgasm to ever claim me...and definitely the strangest. Who knew hair pulling would get me off like that?