Page 60 of Lamb

Glistening and wet, he slid back out, and as I sought the feeling of him inside, he slid another in. The friction and the burn jerked through my nerves, and I arched into his push. I watched as he pumped back inside, both fingers sliding in and out with impossible ease. I was so tight and stretched, but my body gobbled up each finger with eagerness.

“Lamb,” I panted, feeling that rollercoaster peak and my legs tremble. His forearm kept them pinned wide open, and I wriggled against his hold around my waist. His touch was both too much and too little. I was overwhelmed yet desperate to reach that edge.

“Not yet.” Lamb’s tight, gravelled voice rippled in my ear. He ignored any cry of impatience and continued his steady, tantalising thrusts, building me higher and higher until I swear there was nowhere more I could climb.

“Lamb,” I cried. “Please.”

I turned my gaze for the first time in the mirror and saw his face. His black abyssal eyes locked tight onto mine. I had learned that Lamb was ice in the dead of winter, but now, at this moment, his eyes burned hotter than the sun in the peak of summer and left a searching scorch wherever they touched.

I could not look away, the raging heat shooting straight to my core, swirling with the rising fire inside. With that all-consuming look, the stare that threatened to swallow me whole, the eyes that saw all of me, I was pushed over that edge.

A silent cry burned up my throat, fire, and heat, and electricity racing across my body, convulsing every nerve and muscle. Pleasure exploded in its wake, soothing the burst of lightning and sucking all the energy from my limbs. My legs dropped down against him, my centre throbbing and sensitive, eyes damp and weight melting into his hard, firm body behind.

My muscles ached and burned somewhere far away as pleasure swam and clouded my mind, like I was riding a high. It felt different from being drunk, but it quietened the thoughts all the same.

This is dangerous …

I had not felt nor noticed Lamb move until I jerked at the cold flannel pressing against my tender lips. He was gentle but thorough as he wiped over my thighs, my folds, and down to the cheeks of my ass. I was not one to be looked after nor pampered, but having little to no energy, nor the will to move, I could not bring myself to care.

I protested as Lamb began to move, his hands supporting my waist as he brought me up to stand, his body following. Hestayed enveloped around my back, his hands on me at every moment as he reached for a soft, fluffy towel to drape over my shoulders.

Only then did I turn as the man began to soothe the cotton down over my skin, absorbing every damp drop of sweat, and the small escaping traces of my orgasm that the flannel had missed. I floated on my cloud, not thinking much as I followed Lamb through each action, mesmerised and enraptured by even the smallest and simplest movement.

I watched as his tight, flexing muscles shifted with each movement, large, veined hands careful and precise in their movements. I traced his body from his neck to the large, firm jeans and the dark stain soaking through the front.

My face flushed, and my mind began to rise to clarity as I stared at it, knowing that the true traces of my orgasm were buried into the material of the jeans pointing a salute back at me. His body pressed at the seams, the mountain so tight and firm against the denim.

Before I realised it, I was already reaching towards it, my fingers pinching the metal zipper. Lamb’s travelling hands paused on my skin but did not reach to stop me. I took it as an all-clear before I began to slowly pull down the zipper. I only got an inch or so down when it slipped from my hands, and his erection burst free.

The man was commando. I remembered grinding on his lap and knowing that there had been but a single zipper stopping his erection from rubbing directly into me, had a perverse heat brewing once again at my centre.

His dick was large, and although I had been turned off by the few unsuspecting glimpses of dicks throughout my life, this did the opposite. He was thick, and hard, his veins jutting, and the fact that this was all caused by me … the thought was powerful.

I reached out, hesitant, like I had encountered a creature in the wild. My fingertips grazed the tip, and it jerked in response. I was amused to some degree, letting my fingers cautiously trail over the feverish warmth, feeling each solid ridge beneath the velvety skin. It was a strange and unique body part, and my curiosity grew in leaps and bounds.

My inquisition led me into dangerous territory, however, as I slipped my finger back over the head, the small bead of liquid coating my finger. A growl rose from the depths of Lamb’s chest, and I leapt to attention, having forgotten that the beast had been attached to a human.

Lamb’s eyes were pitch black, his breaths haggard, and his body tightened like rigor iron.

“Are you …?”

“About to fucking explode?” Lamb grumbled, his eyes not leaving mine, his throat swallowing hard between words. “Yeah. Keep touching me like that, and I think I’ll shoot a hole through your hand.”

“Oh,” I breathed, glancing back down at the penis twitching and straining beneath the shaft of skin. “I did not mean to …”

Did not mean to what? Touch him? Toy with him? Tease him?

I might not have had the intention, but seeing him struggle under my control gave me the tiniest, guiltiest shivers of pleasure, and earning another was an opportunity I could not resist.

I reached out again, spurred by my thoughts, wrapping my fingers around his length. Lamb let out a sharp hiss, his hips bucking his dick further into my grip.

“Ash …” Lamb growled, a warning tone riding the wave.

I could not tell if he was warning me to stop or not to.

I chose the latter.

I knew, in theory, what I was doing, and I began to let my hand slide up and down along his shaft in long, languid strokes. Lamb’s hands gripped tight to the white towel still wrapped around my shoulders.

---