Page 15 of Wooing Winter

“I do. I remember everything,” I sigh with lust.

“So do I. I’ve never forgotten a minute of it.” Orson groans, his lips roaming down my abdomen as his fingers slide between my wet slit, gathering my dripping arousal and swirling it gently around my swollen clit. The motion lasts seconds before he rises to his knees, spreads my legs, and buries his face between my thighs.

There’s no hesitation. Orson doesn’t need to seek verbal consent when my body is entirely open to him, surrendered, and available for him to ravish. And that’s precisely what he does. He devours me, zeroing in on my clit like he’s saved a map of my pussy and studied every erogenous zone for eight years.

Pleasure sears through my veins, blinding me with ecstasy. I’m speechless, unable to do anything but surrender to theoverwhelming sensations coursing through my body. His skilled tongue lashes and sucks on my throbbing clit, each flick sending waves of ecstasy deep into my core. My body trembles with anticipation as a coil twists deep inside me and begs for release. And then it hits, an explosion of intense orgasms that shatter me from the inside out.

I am left gasping for breath, tears streaming down my face as I finally regain the strength to speak. "Fuck, Orson," I moan through gasps, "that feels better than I remember." My body is wrecked, but I can't help but crave more.

Fortunately, he's not done yet. Orson covers my lips with his own, letting me taste myself on him and driving me even wilder with desire. "We're just getting started," he teases. “We have all night.”

Lying in my childhood bedroom, naked as the day I was born, with Orson by my side shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does, but everything from the stuffed animals perched on a shelf, faded band posters, and various Disney trinkets I gathered throughout my younger years, arouses me more than I can describe. We lost our virginity in this room, and it seems like the perfect place to rewrite a bit of history.

"My parents are down the hall," I breathe against his lips as a wicked grin curves on his perfect face. "We have to be quiet. I mean it."

"Quiet?" Orson echoes, his voice husky with desire as he positions himself between my thighs. "I don't know if I can be quiet with you." He laughs softly, the sound so inherently seductive that it sends electric currents coursing through me, my desperation growing with every second.

It’s immature and reckless to get it on in my parent’s house, where any sound could betray us. But that knowledge only heightens every sensation as his heavy hands roam over me.

"Just consider it part of the thrill." I let my fingers trail over the curve of his massive shoulders, mesmerized by his muscles. The Orson I remember was athletic and thin, but to my teenage eyes, he was a god. I didn’t think he could ever look better—I was wrong.

“You know what would thrill me, Winnie?” Orson’s gray eyes darken.

“What?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

“I want you to spread your thighs wide and show me what’s mine—what’s always been mine,” Orson commands and pushes my knees to my shoulders.

I feel exposed and vulnerable with my most intimate parts on display.

Obeying his orders comes easy. I’ve often thought about what making love with him at our current age would feel like, and now that I stand on the precipice of naughty bliss, I feel the strong urge to submit to whatever he wants. I gaze lustfully at his incredible physique as my body buzzes with anticipation and need. All I can think about is the feeling of him plunging inside me, but he insists on holding me hostage to his torturous pace.

With a devilish glint in his gray eyes, Orson bends forward and licks my pussy, trailing his tongue down my slick folds like a skilled predator savoring its prey. My body quivers as he expertly seeks out my most sensitive spot and latches on, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

"Please, Orson." My plea comes out as a strained whisper, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "Don't make me wait any longer. It's been too long," I beg, unable to control the desperation in my voice.

Sensations quickly overwhelm me as Orson teases, tormenting me with his fingers. I writhe beneath him, my body arching off the mattress as he finally thrusts his massive cockdeep inside me. Every inch of me shudders as sparks of ecstasy consume me.

"Ah! Orson!" I cry out, muffling my voice with my hand.

"This is what you've been waiting for, isn't it?" Orson grunts as he thrusts deeper and deeper, pistoning in and out without restraint.

Fear of discovery makes me crazy, hotter, more aroused than I’ve ever been. "Yes. Please, yes,” I beg, slamming my hips into Orson's with each powerful thrust. "I've missed you so much."

Orson grasps my waist and pulls me toward him, straddling my legs over his thighs as he continues to ravish me. "I won’t ever let anyone else fuck you, Winnie. You know that, don't you? You know you’re mine—all fucking mine." He accentuates his point by impaling me on his cock on every syllable.

I nod, unable to speak as the growing pleasure shatters me like a million shards of glass.

Orson grips my throat, thrusting relentlessly, and groans another command. “Don’t nod. Say it, Winnie."

"Yes, I know it," I gasp out between moans. "No one else will ever fuck me.”

As we move together in a hushed rhythm, I can't help but feel the weight of every stifled sound—the loaded silence punctuated by our shared breaths and racing hearts. The crescendo builds quietly until we're both teetering on the edge. Our eyes lock—a silent conversation amidst our desperate need—and when we come apart, it’s in a silent scream of names and shuddering gasps kept low and deep.

Afterward, lying in my childhood bed, I rest my head on Orson’s broad chest, dewy with sweat, while he traces patterns on my bare back. Down the hall, my parents are oblivious to the rabid fornication taking place within these four walls.

"We shouldn’t have done this," I whisper, though I must admit that my voice holds no real regret.

Orson gently kisses the top of my head, ignoring whatever concerns I struggle to voice. "No regrets, Winnie. We’ve wasted enough time, and life is too short for regrets.”

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