Page 54 of Holding The Reins

“You feel So. Fucking. Good.” He looks down at me like this and I maintain my eye contact with him. I’ve never seen him look so out of control and I love it. It’s a sight I wish I could see over and over. Chest heaving, eyes rolling back. Perfection. He lets me continue on like this, moving in and out of my mouth, hitting the back of my throat with every thrust as his large hands weave through my damp hair. My air comes in little bursts around him as I try to breathe through my nose.

He groans a long carnal sound as he finds the will to pull himself from my mouth, pinching my swollen bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

“You take my cock so well, but I don’t want to come like this. Fuck—” He stares down at me as if he’s considering thrusting back into my mouth. “That might have been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” he says as he pulls me up to him by my arms. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and then kisses it. “This mouth was made for me.”

“No gag reflex,” I admit.

“Like I said, made for me,” he rasps hungrily into my ear and then he’s kissing me, running his hands over my body, squeezing and kneading my thighs, my ass, my waist. He’s everywhere all at once. He turns me around and presses his rock hard cock into the small of my back, my cool damp hair still between us as he cups my breasts and slides his other hand down to my soaking core.

“Mmm, this pussy, so fucking ready for me…”

“Yes…” I manage to breathe out as he continues his gentle assault of my clit, bringing me almost to the point of coming, then stopping when he senses I’m close.

“I want to feel you fall apart on my cock.” His voice is gravel and I can almost feel his smirk against my skin as he pushes my body down onto the bed so I’m on all fours before him. His hands glide over my back, pushing my face down into the pillows, gripping the back of my neck, he pulls my ass up so I’m on full display, but there is nothing vulgar or demeaning about his actions, he simply takes what he wants with a surety I’ve never experienced from a man before. He kneels behind me on the bed and runs his hands from my upper back down to the globes of my ass, sliding them outward as he grips my hips and presses my backside into his erection.

“Your body is fucking perfection,” Nash whispers to me again as he slides his cock against my slick entrance.

I move my body against his, grinding shamelessly, searching for friction. The ache I feel for him pushes any other thought from my brain. I revel in the feel of his skin against mine.

He reaches into my drawer beside us and produces a condom faster than I can fathom and tears it open with his teeth, rolling it over his cock expertly with one hand as I watch him over my shoulder.

He’s pressed back up against me now.

“This isn’t going to be gentle,” is his only warning before he’s thrusting into me, as deep as possible, gripping my hair. “Fuck,” Nash groans a long drawn out form of the word as my mouth falls open but no sound comes out because I’m so intensely full and gripping him as tight as humanely possible.

This angle, this is something I can’t handle. He is hitting that spot inside me. So deep.

“I really, really need you to try to breathe, Rae.” His words are shaky as he stays fully seated inside me but doesn’t move. Gentle fingers trace my spine in an attempt to get me to relax.

“Okay,” I say as I try to breathe.

I blow out a long shaky breath as he uses my hips to slowly push me forward then pull me back down onto him again until I’m once again full to the hilt. I have no strength to do anything but let him use my body for his pleasure. He’s not moving at all. He’s simply using my body to do the work for him and the way it feels is indescribable.

“This tight little cunt”—he grunts as he drags me almost all the way off his cock and then pulls me back down by my hips—“Was fucking made for me.” Nash drives into me again, meeting my hips with force before I’m ready and I feel like I’m about to orgasm all over him.

“You’re going to come already…” he states, gratification and something else in his voice. Surprise?

“It’s your words… I can’t—” I start to explain but I can’t finish my sentence or even string a thought together, it’s too much as he thrusts into me and hits that spot again. Over and over he moves in and out of me. It’s methodical and rough. I’m trying to hold it together but I’m about to lose it, only he senses when I’m going to and never lets me, like he is completely in tune with my body. Gripping my ass, he spreads me wide as he fucks in and out of me, I watch him staring down at where we connect over my shoulder.

“Such a pretty pussy, such a good girl, taking my cock like it was made for you. Fucking beautiful.” I settle with the fact that Nash could probably ask me to do just about anything and I’d do it if it meant he would call me his good girl afterwards. He moves expertly in deep thrusts and slow withdrawals, almost all the way before consuming me again. A state of steady euphoria washes over me.

He grips a large fistful of my hair and pulls my body back up to his, pressing his front to my back, then slides his large hand over my throat to my jaw, turning my face so he can kiss me as he presses a finger to my clit. I’m instantly a goner.

I’m shattering. Broken moans and whimpers leave my body as his lips absorb them. I spasm around him and do just what he wants.

“That’s it, CeCe. Come. Come all over my cock,” he growls as he continues thrusting into me. “Take exactly what you want from me.”

I do just that. My walls clench around his length, coaxing his release from him.

His legs tense behind me as a hand grips my hips in a tight hold. Somehow, he grows even more inside me then jerks and groans my name with inaudible cuss words as he fills the condom. Moments pass like this, there’s no sense of time before he collapses onto me, resting his head on my back, his breathing heavy.

“Fuck…I’m pretty sure you just wrecked me,” Nash mutters, then kisses under my shoulder blade.

The feel of warm, sweet-scented skin and soft hair on my arm is foreign as I open my eyes and take in the view of CeCe’s room. The log cabin walls are a stark contrast to the antique white bedroom furniture, white duvet and white curtains. The only other colors in the room are the light gray and pink throw pillows and CeCe’s golden hair. The sun is streaming in, which means the night is technically over. I glance over at her. She’s out cold so I adjust myself to lie on my side and just watch her sleep. Her arms are tucked under her head and her hair is splayed everywhere. We’re both still naked.

I have no idea what time we fell asleep, but I do know for the first time in a long, long time—maybe ever—I actually slept without any bad dreams. I still woke up at 3:13 but instead of terror, I felt a sort of peace. CeCe’s hand was on my chest, so I took her again just because I could and she didn’t stop me, she let me in like it was the most natural thing on earth. Now, her breathing is silent and I take this time to appreciate her beauty like this. The smallest details I may never see like this again. The tiny freckle she has over her lip, her dark lashes fluttering as she dreams, her silky skin in the morning sun, her tiny heart shaped, rose gold earrings that sit in her cute little earlobes. Her earlobes. When the hell have I ever admired a woman’s earlobes before?

I just lie here, amazed that this universe can create something so perfect. It’s overwhelming that she exists, and that she’s lying here beside me. She stirs and opens one stunning green eye, reminding me that all good things come to an end. It’s just as well the night is technically over. I cannot get attached to CeCe and I know it.

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