Page 57 of All Her Broken Pieces

“You should stop,” he whispers as my fingers travel down to the waistband of his boxer briefs. My fingers graze the hard head of his cock as it stretches up his abdomen. He hisses and reaches for my hand, stilling my movements. “Bridget,” he warns in a low voice.

“I like it when you say my name like that,” I purr seductively, pulling my hand free and reaching into his boxers to stroke his hard length.

“You can’t?—”

“Ican’t have sex for six weeks,” I correct him. “But you can.”

“Fuck,” he groans as I grip his cock, collecting the pre-cum from his head before sliding it up and down his shaft. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I know you have a big dick, but it doesn’t weigh ten pounds, so it isn’t considered heavy lifting.” I continue moving my hand up and down.

“Christ, that feels good,” he groans. I try to sit up a little so I can angle toward him more, but I feel a twinge of pain in my stomach and freeze. Ethan looks up at me as I close my eyes and let out a deep breath.

“What happened?” I can hear the concern in his voice as he shifts to his side.

“Nothing. I think my pain meds are wearing off. I’ll be fine.” I let out a few more deep breaths as the pain lessens and reach for his waistband again.

“Bridget, stop. You shouldn’t be twisting your torso like that.”

“Fine.” I lay back down, facing him, still on my side. “I have an idea.”

“I’m listening,” he says, shifting to his side and staring into my eyes.

“I have some lube in the nightstand. Hand it to me, please?”

“We can’t?—”

“It’s not for me. It’s for you. If I lie still like this,” I say as I extend my hand toward him, “and hold my hand like this”—I make a circle to show him—“you can fuck my hand, and I don’t have to move.”

“Fucking hell,” he moans as he grabs the bottle of lube and hands it to me.

I pop the cap open and squirt a generous amount on my palm before setting it on the bed between us. He shifts onto his back and pulls his boxer briefs off before rolling over and facing me again. My hand connects with his cock, and I spread the lube up and down his length as a low groan escapes his lips.

“Fuck my hand like you want to fuck my mouth,” I say as he pushes his thick cock into my hand and slowly pumps in and out.

“Holy fuck, this feels amazing,” he growls as his movements quicken, his thrusts becoming hard and sloppy. When he finds a good rhythm, I start twisting my hand while he thrusts in and out. “Yes, just like that. Such a good fucking girl.”

“Look at you, fucking this hand like a needy little slut. You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” he moans as he turns his head into his pillow, his teeth biting into it as his muffled groans get louder and his breathing picks up. I keep pumping his cock with the same twisting motion as he grinds up into it. He pulls his face out of the pillow and looks directly in my eyes. “Non siamo solo amici,” he croaks through gritted teeth, a pleading look on his face.

I have no idea what he said, but I can see the desperation on his face. “You look so fucking good when you beg.”

“Please, fuck, you feel so good. Please don’t stop, please make me come.”

It’s so fucking sexy watching this man lose control and come apart for me. It makes me feel like I can do anything, like I really am a queen commanding my subject.

“You have a little praise and degradation kink too, I see,” I say as I squeeze harder on each thrust. “Are you going to be a good boy and come for me?”

“Yes, Jesus, fuck.” He thrusts into my hand a few more times before he stills with my hand gripped at the root of his cock. He shifts onto his back as he comes with a roar. “Fuck, Bridget.” Thick ropes of cum spill out of his cock, painting his chest and abdomen.

We lie there for several minutes as I lean into him, pressing kisses onto his boulder of a bicep.

“I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before,” he says, his deep voice rough and raspy as though he just woke up. His arm snakes down off the bed, grabbing his boxers as he uses them to wipe off his stomach. “I’ll go throw these in the wash and grab something to clean you up with.” He picks the lube up off the bed, stowing it back in the drawer before leaving the room.

Fuck, that was intense. No one’s ever brought out this side of me before. I don’t usually talk this much during sex. I’ve never been afraid to ask for what I want, give directions, or moan, but this is different.

He’s slowly chipping away at my defenses, and the odd thing is that I don’t feel as scared as I did or as worried as I probably should. Maybe I should give him a chance. In the past few days, he’s proven that he cares, making more of an effort than any guy I’ve ever been with.

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