Page 19 of Look, Don't Touch

The scrape of his pants meets my calves as he steps into position. I hold perfectly still, but my breaths saw in and out of my lungs. His hot, blunt head meets my entrance.

“Mm-hmm,” he snarls.

I nod and bank a sob, threatening to escape. My insides are a frenzy of want. I’m ready to beg. It’s too much to keep contained. Tears slip down my cheek.

Guess he reads me better than I thought.

Breath leaves my lungs as he impales me. It’s pushed out in a vicious sob, but I nod, so he knows I’m okay. A growl rips up his throat.

Normally, he eases in so slowly I almost die. Typically, he’s quiet. Usually, he is exquisite. Now, he’s unleashed.

I can’t get enough.

Hair slips out from my neat low bun. I don’t care. All I care about is him moving.

His hips piston, pulling all the way out, and then ramming deep. My head cranes to the sky. Moans bleed from my lips, while his every vein and ridge thrum my wet cunt. He plays me like a fucking instrument.

The head of his cock presses against the front wall of my vagina. Suddenly both vibrators roar to life. Only three more thrusts and I scream my release like a woman unhinged.

He slows his pace, letting me crest and then fall. The vibrators go quiet once more. With a shift, he reaches around and removes the one at my clit. When he leans forward again, a thick leather strap is looped around the front of my hips. He grabs each end hard and then rides me like a stallion in rut. His hips slam forward while his hold on the strap pulls me back to meet them.

I’m so full of him. He hits so deep and hard that my brain buzzes. I’m sobbing and moaning and loving every savage second. My boobs press into the leather platform, and my nipples and the clamps scrape against it, tweaking. I feel like I’m being cracked open and pulled apart from the inside.

It’s terrifying and feels so fucking freeing at the same time.

His breathing becomes loud and reckless.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Fuck me.

My words don’t form, but my heady moans, pants, and screams communicate my pleasure for me. I squeeze his heavy cock tight and flutter around him, coming hard and demanding his release in turn. He gives it with a short stroke. His strain plumps my ass, and I feel the heat of his cum as it fills the condom inside me.

He presses the end of the butt plug, jerking it wickedly deep inside me. I scream as my orgasm reignites. It leaks down my thigh as he pumps his last.

He sags over me. The front of his shirt tickles my back. It feels like soft cotton. Like a T-shirt grazing the dimples just above my butt. His hand brackets my body, holding tight to the platform on either side of me.

I cherish this moment. I hate that we got here so soon because I know what comes next. I despise it as much as I need it.

When I told Astor that it might not hit like it used to, I was right. It hit harder, better, deeper. Normally, I miss this, the theater of it, the disconnect from the rest of the world. With a start, I realize I’ve missed his touch, his command over my body.

That is reason enough never to return. I know I will, though. He gives me the release I need. I give him my submission and the orgasms he craves.

His breaths dance over my shoulders a few more inhales than usual, but too soon, he straightens and pulls from my body. He discards the condom, straightens his clothes, and leaves without a word.

“Miss?”

My head jerks around, and I blink at the driver. He’s a thick man with a heavy mustache, rosy cheeks, and dark curly hair that’s shorn into a gentleman’s cut. Sunlight pours through the windshield and glints off the gray at his temples. I hadn’t heard the whir of the divider as it shimmied down.

“We’ve…uh…arrived.”

“Yes, thank you.” Of course, I know. I’d been staring out the window at the stone chapel since the car stopped in front of it nearly five minutes ago. I’ve taken note of the frost clinging to the blades of bright green grass along the manicured grounds. I’ve counted the leaded glass panes in the windows. I’ve sketched the bell tower’s spire in my mind three times over with all its intricate detail.

When I don’t move, his head cocks. “You sure you don’t want me to get that door for you?”

“I’m sure.” I nod.

“It’s part of the gig.” He shrugs. “Plus, I’d be happy to do it.”

I grab the door handle, taking the not-so-subtle hint to get out of the car. “I’ve got it.”

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