Page 22 of Stone

“Yes. Always for you.” I circle my clit again and moan loudly when his finger breaches my hole.

“Fuck. Fuck, that’s good.” He licks his lips as he stares down with his jaw slack.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he slides inside me until he stops.

“I can feel your barrier,” he whispers, and I freeze. We stare at one another as he touches me, and I can feel it deep inside as he strokes over the one thing he can never have, and he knows it too. The sadness in his eyes makes an appearance before he quickly masks it.

Then he slides his finger out and back in, gaining a steady rhythm as my finger assaults my clit again.

“I’m fucking you, baby. I’m using my thick finger to fuck your tiny pussy. You’re stretching around me, you’re so goddamn small, Sienna.”

“Oh god.” I pant at his filthy words.

“Fuck, you look so damn good with your tits bouncing while I finger-fuck you, Si.”

“Yesss. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” I beg, then my orgasm hits me, and my walls pulsate around him.

My head falls back against the pillow, and I can hear his fist working while he fucks my pussy in time with his cock.

“Fuck. Fuck,” he chants, and my pussy clamps around him. A warm splash of cum hits my fingers, coating my pussy with his seed.

Slowly, I come down from my orgasm and sit up on my elbows to find him withdrawing his finger. The blush travels down my cheeks and over my chest as he coats his fingers in his cum, then slowly pushes it inside me. I can feel him touching my walls and painting them with his arousal.

“Do you think you could get pregnant like this?” he asks, darting his eyes up to mine with his finger still lodged inside me.

“I-I don’t know.” I bite into my lip.

His shoulders sag, and mine droop too when he slides his finger from me.

I scan his body, and again, I’m hit with the fact he tucked his cock away before I could see it, almost as if he’s purposely keeping it from me, and I hate it. He’s probably allowed otherwomen to see him naked, touch him. Anger and jealousy unleash within me like an atomic bomb set for destruction.

“Has anyone ever touched you?” I snipe.

His gaze slowly rises to mine, then his eyes widen and his lips part, but nothing comes out of his mouth, so I rephrase the question.

“Have any women ever touched you?”

“No,” he says immediately, and my anger dissipates just as quickly.

“Never?”

“Not from what I can remember, no.”

“Have you ever touched a woman?”

He fidgets from side to side, and his chest rises.

I chew on my lower lip, hoping above all hope that he’s never touched someone like he just touched me.

Then his eyes find mine. “No. Only you.”

Happiness flows, settling in my bloodstream like an antidote.

He clears his throat. “I’ve only ever wanted to touch you.” His eyes hold mine as we stare at each other.

Then he glances away before quickly looking back at me, as if scared I would move.

His focus locks on to my tits, and a flurry of jubilation simmers my blood at the desire in his bright-blue eyes.

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