“Fuck me back, sweetheart. Get into it and let yourself go. A man needs to know he can get you so full of need that you have no choice but to rock these beautiful hips closer and take every last inch of what he’s giving you.”
Hale’s movements still, giving me the chance to practice taking the lead. It feels so foreign to me, so new, that for a moment, I struggle to find a rhythm that will suit us both, my body stopping altogether.
“You’re thinking too much,” he says, leaning over me and pressing a single kiss between my shoulder blades. “Just feel. Get rid of all those voices in your head. Let everything go and simply feel. It’s just me and you, and we can practice for as long as you need to.”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. Embracing my inner sex kitten, I imagine what the view must be like for him. Me in a position of complete surrender, my ass on display, his cock impaling me, owning me. It’s an erotic sight. I push my butt back, sliding on his cock until his heavy balls slap against me, and he grunts out a sound of delicious pleasure.
I try the move again, withdrawing and rocking back, wiggling my butt in a way I hope is enticing. But I believe him—this is a judgment-free zone, and that thought alone provides confidence. Knowing I can try things I’ve never been brave enough to try is freeing.
He places one hand flat on my lower back, but he lets me do all the work, and I practice rocking back and forth on him.
He shudders, then whispers a curse.
“How is it?” I ask, glancing back at him, suddenly needing some reassurance.
“Uh, you’re doing good.” His voice is impossibly tight, and something tells me I’m doing better than good.
Deep satisfaction rises inside me and I let go, fucking him faster, pushing my ass back to take him deep again and again. The unintended consequence is that I stop thinking so much and just feel. It’s incredible, and soon I feel my release building.
“Hale…” I cry out. “I’m close…”
Suddenly he pulls free and my body mourns his loss, but only for a second. Before I know it, I’m tugged up from the bed, wrapped in his strong arms, and laid back down—on my back this time. And then the broad head of him is pushing into me again, claiming me.
“I want to watch you when you come.” He thrusts forward and this time, I don’t wait to be told; my hips lift from the bed and I meet him thrust for thrust.
God, we’re quite a sight. His huge, thick cock parting me, sinking deep within my pink, tender flesh. My pelvis rocking against his. Our hands locked together. Our eyes lifting to each other’s.
“Come all over my dick, baby. Just like that,” he growls, his eyes glued to the spot where his body is joined with mine.
I fall apart, climaxing almost immediately, moaning his name in a litany of mumbled cries.
His chest shudders and he lets go, the warmth of his semen marking me all along my stomach and thighs as he pulls out at the last second and strokes himself in the most sensual way.
Moments later he moves from the bed, and I hear his footsteps in the hall. He returns with a warm cloth that he uses to clean me. I wonder if this is all part of the service, but the look in his eyes is pure adoration, and I’m lost to him. I’ve never been so thoroughly worshipped, taken, and now his kindness feels like too much.
“That was perfect,” he says, breathless, kissing my temple once again.
A thousand emotions slam into me at once. Pleasure. Desire. Fear. Disgust.
I am the definition of a hot mess. With my hair clinging to my damp skin, and my lungs still heaving from my powerful release, I feel lost and broken. I curl onto my side and hug my arms around my body, hating that he’s about to see me cry.
I’m supposed to be doing this because I want to date Kirby. Right now, he’s the furthest thing from my mind, and I want nothing more than Hale to take me in his arms and never let me go.
“Hey, hey…” The softness of his voice startles me. “What’s wrong?” He strokes my hair, running his fingers against my scalp and through the length of my hair.
I can’t answer at first. Tears roll down my cheeks for reasons unknown as feelings of deep regret and sadness wash over me. I have no idea what’s gotten into me.
Hale leans over me with a pained expression, opening my legs and inspecting me carefully. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. No, nothing like that.” I take a deep breath and wipe my eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s stupid.”
“Tell me what you’re feeling right now.”
I’m feeling confused and… I don’t even know how to explain it. Was that as intense for him as it was for me? Probably not. His face gives nothing away, and his calm demeanor makes me feel unnerved, inferior. I’m nothing more than a client; this is just sex to him. To me, it was the most powerful, incredible thing I’ve ever experienced, but to him I’m merely another appointment in his date book. How do I tell him that without sounding totally crazy?
“I’m not sure,” I say.
“The sex between us was intense,” he says as though he’s plucked the words right from my brain.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“So intense that sometimes it can become confused with something it’s not—something more emotional. It’s a powerful thing, submitting like that, giving yourself to me the way you did. Have you done anything like that with a man before?”
“No. I… That was a first for me.” I felt wild and uninhibited, and I let myself go in front of him like I’ve never done before.