Page 34 of Plum

He eases his hands behind my knees and pushes them toward my chest, and the angle changes, and now he’s nailing that spot, the coil furling tighter and tighter, hotter and hotter, and I need him to do something. I don’t know what, but I have to cum. I have to, or I’ll die. I’m gasping for air, and he keeps going, murmuring in my ear…I don’t even know what.

“Adam,” I gasp.

“Yeah, baby. Say my name.” He kisses me, dusts kisses across my forehead, drops one on my nose.

“Adam.” It’s a demand. Almost a sob.

“Okay, baby.” Then he flicks my clit with his thumb and drives into me. My breath flies out, and I explode, pulsing around his cock, waves of pure bliss rolling from deep inside me all down my arms and legs. I scream. It’s heaven, and I’m spasming, and I don’t want it to ever end.

He shouts, his back arching. I can’t feel his cum because of the condom, but I can feel him pulse against my walls.

He drags in a deep breath, and he kisses my chest, right between my tits. I’m sweaty. He’sreallysweaty.

“Are you okay?” He pushes the hair from my face. I nod. “Stay here.”

He slides out, and I immediately feel empty and sore. I draw my knees together and pull them to my belly. He strokes my thigh. “I’ll be right back.”

He goes to the bathroom, and I hear a flush. Then he heads for the kitchen.

Is that my cue to leave? Shit.

My body is totally boneless. I don’t feel capable of speech. And fuck, Wall probably went home. I’m going to have to catch a ride share. I’m going to have to wait for a ride share in that lobby with three men in red coats pretending they don’t know I just got my brains fucked out.

My hair has got to be out of control. Maybe Adam won’t mind if I take a shower before I go.

There’s a hollow ache in my chest. I don’t want to go.

I force myself to sit up. I just need a minute to pull myself together. I’m fine.

And then Adam’s back, pressing a cold glass into my hand. “Drink.”

Ice water. I down most of it in three swallows. I was so fucking thirsty.

“Spread these.” Adam’s pushing my knees apart, and then he slips an ice-cold wash cloth between my legs and applies pressure.

I bat at his wrist. It’s too cold.

“No. Let me. You’re gonna be sore.”

He’s so much bigger and stronger, there’s no use in pushing him away. I let him ice pack my pussy, and I don’t fuss when he maneuvers me so we’re spooning. I’m facing the windows, so I can see all the city lights, and above the orange halo, a handful of stars, way high up. It should be beautiful. It makes me cold.

I roll so that I’m facing Adam. This is better. I’m surrounded by his scent and heat. He strokes the small of my back, and then he lifts my leg and slings it over his hip. The wash cloth falls loose, and I feel him harden against my chilled skin.

He runs him thumb over my lower lip. “Are you still thirsty?”

I nod. I feel like I ran a marathon.

“Here.” He holds up the glass. I sip, and it dribbles down my chin and onto his hand. He laps the drops, and then finds my mouth. His kisses are calmer now, but somehow, no less hungry. Only slower.

His hot, hard cock nudges me. There’s no condom now. I can feel his pre cum drip on my clit. Suddenly, even though I’m exhausted and raw, I’m ready again. Every inch of my body is swollen or aching—my tits, my pussy lips, my hip sockets, for some reason my biceps—but I alsocravemore.

“Baby,” he’s whispering in my ear while his big hands stoke the fire. “I’m clean. Let me cum inside you.”

He prods at my tender opening, and aren’t I God’s own idiot, ‘cause for a minute, staring at his beautiful face, his square jaw and his hooded, punch-drunk eyes, I actually consider it.

I want to feel all that silky hardness bare, dragging along my channel. I want him to cum fast because he can’t help himself, he wants me so much. I want his cum dripping from my pussy, making me messy, ruining the sheets.

I want this to be real, but it’s not. I tense, jerk away from his touch, suddenly mad that he asked. I’m pissed that he made me remember that none of this is real.

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