Page 45 of Stick Handled

I bite my lip, feeling anticipation flowing into nervousness as his gaze locks onto mine. The room is filled with tension, every second stretching out like an eternity. His touch is electric, sending shivers down my spine as his free hand slides down between my breasts.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. His eyes trace the curves of my body. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

His confession sends a rush of warmth through me, melting away any remaining hesitation.

“Then take what you want,” I whisper, my voice shaking with excitement.

He responds immediately, his mouth on me in an instant, his hand thumbing the sensitive flesh of my breasts. I gasp, arching into his touch, feeling the cool air against my heated skin. My nipples tighten instantly, pebbling in the chilled air, but he quickly remedies that by pressing his warm palm against them, kneading gently.

“This is your last chance to tell me to stop," he says, his voice strained.

“No,” I reply, my breath hitching as his thumb circles my nipples. “I don’t want you to stop.”

His eyes darken at my words, and he leans down, capturing one taut peak between his lips. I whimper, the sensation too intense, too delicious to bear. He sucks lightly, his tongue darting out to swirl around the sensitive nub before switching to the other breast, giving it equal attention. My back arches involuntarily, pressing my chest toward him, craving more.

He releases the hold he has on the belt, the leather loosening around my wrists. I pull my hands free and bring them around his neck right before he pulls away.

I watch him as he sits up, his eyes never leaving mine, and unzips his pants slowly. My gaze involuntarily drops to his hand which disappears under the waistband. My tummy does a flip at the thought of what he’s about to do next. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight before me as he pulls his hand back out, the other one pulling the top of his pants down.

“Oh my god,” I breathe out, my eyes glued to his cock. It’s just like the rest of him, huge and breathtaking.

“Having second thoughts?” he teases, his hand sliding down the length slowly. The sight is enough to make my mouth water, and instead of replying, I reach down and wrap my own hand around it, right above his. I’ve never touched something so soft yet so hard before. It feels like steel wrapped in satin; it feels like danger, and I can’t get enough of it.

“Fuck, Avery,” he hisses out, closing his eyes and leaning into my hand. Seeing what my touch does to him makes me come alive. I want more. I need more.

“Show me how to do it,” I say quietly. He opens his eyes, and his lips curl just an inch.

“You want me to teach you how to stroke my cock?” he asks, raising a brow. I bite my lip and nod, earning me a devilish smile. “I did promise to give you lessons,” he says teasingly.

“Wrap your hand around it,” he instructs, and I sit up, propping myself up on my elbow as I try to wrap my fingers around him. They’re barely touching, and the thought of this inside me sends butterflies fluttering everywhere.

He wraps his large hand around mine and starts guiding my hand up and down, squeezing himself more than I expected. He lets out a breath and throws his head back with a muttered curse.

“Show me what you’ve learned.” He releases my hand and looks down at me. I squeeze his cock and start pumping my hand up and down. “Fuck, baby. Slow down,” he pants, and I freeze.

“Did I do it wrong?” I ask, my hand mid-stroke. Damien swallows and shakes his head, leaning down over me again.

“The fucking opposite,” he replies before his fingers slide up my inner thigh, getting closer and closer to my center. “You’re such a little tease,” he murmurs as his fingers slide up my slit and pause at my clit. I moan at the feeling of his fingers on the sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation is more than I could have ever imagined. I’ve touched myself before, but nothing can compare to him touching me. His eyes don’t leave mine as he begins to rub in slow circles. I try to close my legs, my moans turning into whimpers as the pleasure takes over me.

“Spread your legs wider,” he commands, his voice thick with desire.

I obey, parting my thighs and exposing myself to his hungry gaze. He groans, his eyes flicking down to his fingers rubbing me and my hand around his cock.

With a muttered curse, he sits up and pulls a condom from his back pocket. He rips the foil with his teeth and spits it out before rolling the condom down his length. The sight of that shouldn’t be as erotic as it is, but my walls clench in anticipation.

“We’re doing this at your pace tonight.” He brings his gaze back to me. I blink at him, unsure of what he means, and his lips curl into into a smile. “Put it in for me,” he commands, his tone low and dark.

I look up at him, eyes wide and lips parted before I look down again. I swallow and scoot lower before guiding his cock between my thighs, the head rubbing my wetness around. My eyes roll at the sensation of him there, everything feeling too good, too much. Involuntarily, I let him slip from my fingers as I whimper.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He chuckles, and I feel the head rubbing up and down again, this time, guided by his hand instead of mine. “So fucking wet for me.”

“Please,” I gasp, my voice barely audible.

“You beg so nicely,” he muses. “Let me hear you again,” he urges, still sliding his tip up and down.

“Please, Damien,” I whine, wrapping my fingers around his hand.

“Anything for you,” he whispers and positions himself at my entrance. He comes down on top of me and kisses my lips gently. I feel pressure as he begins to push himself in. A sudden jolt of pain and pleasure rip through me as he slowly pushes inside. I gasp audibly, throwing my head back as he stretches me.

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