40: Skin on Skin Part 02

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he watched my hands knead my chest and my hips buck against his face, a silent plea for deeper contact. His own hand found his straining cock, stroking with a slow, deliberate pressure that mirrored the rhythm of his tongue on my core, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. As my climax began to build, a slow, agonizing wave that tightened every muscle in my body, my inner muscles clenched rhythmically around his mouth, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. With a slow, deliberate shift, Asher moved above me, his thick, hard cock pressing against my slick, aching entrance, the swollen tip teasing my delicate folds. The feeling, raw and intimate after so long, was jarring at first, an exquisite invasion that instantly caused me to gasp his name, “Ash…” My inner muscles instinctively clench around his swollen length, welcoming him home with a desperate, possessive embrace.

He gripped my hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he maneuvered me onto his lap, my wetness sliding against his hard length. Straddling him, I set the pace, my inner muscles clenching around him with each downward slide, our bodies slick with sweat, the friction igniting another wave of desperate need. His hand grasped the back of my head, his still on his lips. His kisses move down my chin, leaving a hot, glistening brand on my neck, sucking and licking, trailed lower to my aching ingers tangling in my sweat-damp hair as I bounced in his lap. Our eyes locked, mirroring the pleasure, the desperate need of sensations, before his mouth, hot and possessive, crashed onto mine, the scent of my arousal breasts, teasing the swollen peaks until sharp cries tore from my throat. My own fingers wove through his hair, my head falling back as another shattering climax ripped through me, my body convulsing around him. I collapsed against his chest, limp and sated, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and whimpers escaped my lips as the sensations continued to rip through my body.

He shifted, withdrawing his thick length, leaving my quivering flesh exposed and suddenly vulnerable. An aching emptiness bloomed inside me, causing a soft whimper to escape my lips, a desperate plea for his return. He rolled me onto my stomach, his hands sliding beneath my hips, gently lifting them, arching my back, and exposing my slick, throbbing heat to his gaze. I gasped as he positioned himself behind me, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. Then, slowly, deliberately, he slid back inside me, stretching me wide, the depth of his penetration eliciting another involuntary whimper. The angle seemed to impossibly deepen the connection, his hard length pressing against a spot that sent deep, guttural moans echoing from my throat, primal sounds of mingled pleasure and a delicious ache. His fingers dug into my buttocks, kneading the soft flesh, gripping them tightly as his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming deeper and more insistent, his own ragged groans mingling with my increasingly frantic cries.

The constant barrage of his impaling, the exquisite friction, and the feeling of being utterly filled blurred the lines between pain and pleasure, escalating into a dizzying, euphoric sensation that pushed me over the edge once more. My body convulsed around him, my inner muscles clenching rhythmically, milking him, my honeyed juices soaking his shaft even more as the hot, shuddering release of Asher’s own climax finally flooded deep inside me, his cock pulsating with each powerful surge, every contraction of my walls amplifying his pleasure.

His body slick with sweat, his breathing ragged and fast against my ear, Asher collapsed beside me, his weight heavy and comforting. He remained hovering over me for a moment, catching his breath, his chest heaving, before pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder, then nipping gently at the sensitive skin, sending a fresh wave of shivers through me. He pulled my trembling form close until we were pressed together, skin to slick skin, our bodies still humming with the aftershocks of our intense lovemaking. He peppered soft kisses across my cheek, my temple, his lips still swollen and tender from our frantic joining, as I gasped for breath, my lungs burning with exertion. His touch, even the lightest brush of his hand against my arm, formed goosebumps on my still sensitized, flushed skin, each point of contact a vivid, electric reminder of the raw intimacy we had just shared, the possessive fullness I still felt deep inside. The lingering scent of our mingled passion filled the air, a heady aroma that clung to the damp sheets and our heated bodies, a silent testament to the forbidden fire that had consumed us.

My eyelids grew heavy, a sense of fragile peace settling over me. The dampness between my thighs was a lingering reminder of our urgent coupling, the exquisite friction, and the possessive fullness. The warmth of his body molded against mine offered a temporary respite, a brief haven in the darkness before the inevitable dawn and the difficult decisions that awaited, the memory of our frantic joining a bittersweet ache, a potent blend of guilt and undeniable, earth-shattering pleasure.