Page 119 of On My Side
“Sweetheart, you know nothing about me is little—shit.” I cut off his gloating with a firm grind of my hips, and his hands find their way to them as well. “Never mind. Fuck taking your time. I need to taste you.”
I crawl up his body until I’m hovering over his face. His breath is hot on my cunt as he uses his thumbs to spread me. I shiver at the contact as he exhales a swear.
My thighs are already trembling when he wraps his arms around my thighs and buries his face in my pussy.
“Grab onto the headboard, sweetheart,” he says, voice muffled and vibrating against my already sensitive clit. The sensation makes me almost collapse. “Iknowyou’ve listened to the audios I’ve done and know how to do this right. Stop hovering.”
I lower myself further onto him, because bossy Ren has melted my brain into goo, and any dominant streak I’ve had vaporizes. He groans as I lower my weight onto him, and while I’mobviouslyenjoying it, I think he may be enjoying it even more.
He licks and sucks, nips and circles, and digs his fingers into my thighs, all the while moaning with pleasure. I loosen my grip on the headboard and lean back to watch him, planting my hands on either side of his thighs. I can barely see him over my breasts and belly, but can see his eyes are closed and his hair is mussed. He’s fucking blissed out. He opens his eyes, a hazy yet animalistic expression in them.
“Pretty boy,” I praise, digging my teeth into my lower lip. “This is what you wanted? To be smothered by my pussy and told how pretty you are while doing it?”
He groans again, eyes widening as he nods as best as he can in our current position. No one can say he’s not enthusiastic.
God, his enthusiasm feels good. Both for my body, but also my self-esteem. This man not only loves the essence of me, my heart and everything else someone means when they say they love someone… he loves my body and pleasing it. The same body I’ve hated, the same body that’s created life and nourished it, the body that’s carried me and taken care of me for over thirty years. He sees what I haven’t, and he loves it so earnestly I think maybe I could learn to love it, too.
Ren lifts me off his face. “Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good,” he gasps, beard and mustache soaked with my arousal.
“You’ve tasted me before,” I say, voice shaky.
“Not when you’ve loved me,” he says, that crooked smile back on his face. “Everything is different when you love me.”
My heart twists in my chest. He’s right. Itisdifferent when I love him, when he loves me. It’s like our love is fusing with lust and becoming one new emotion, one new desire. While letting him find my fragile heart has been one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever done, he’s protecting that part of me well. We’re both taking care of my heart now.
He makes me new, makes me want new things. Old things, made new.
“Ren… I want you. Inside me,” I beg, absolutely hopeless for him.
His expression softens, no longer feral and animalistic. “You sure you don’t want me to wear a condom?”
My hand finds his hair, and I rake my fingers through his unruly waves. “I only want you.”
“I’ve never… uh. I’ve never had penetrative sex without a condom before.” His cheeks redden at the confession, like his face wasn’t just buried in my pussy.
“Oh!” I say, my own face heating. “That was… presumptive of me. I’m sorry, we can totally…”
“I want to, with you, though,” he interrupts. “Only you.”
I nod. “Me too.” I scoot myself backward until I’m straddling his hips, and he sits up, eyes never leaving mine. He cups my cheek gingerly, running his thumb over my lower lip. “Can I have you, sweetheart?” His voice is so gentle and earnest and it makes me want to implode.
“Yes,” I say, lowering my face to his and kissing him. It’s urgent and slow, languid and desperate, rough and gentle. A kiss made of contradictions and impossibilities. Kind of like us. “Yes,” I repeat, his fingertips tracing my curves until they curl around my hip.
“How do you want me?” He murmurs, brushing his nose against mine. “Do you have a favorite position?”
I pull away from him, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “Ren, I’ve only ever done cramped missionary in the backseat of a Honda Civic. Anything different sounds amazing.”
He barks out a surprised laugh, deep and delighted.
“I think I can do that,” he says. “Any position in any audios that piqued your interest? ”
My entire body is heated by the blush creeping down my neck. “I’ve… I’ve always been curious about being fucked from behind,” I admit. I hate the shame filling my entire body with my confession, like the shame I experienced when pregnant is returning and filling me to the brim.
Ren notices, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest, and running his hand down my hair.
“I hate that sex can still make me feel like this,” I whisper, fighting the tears filling my eyes. “I hate it.”
“I know,” he soothes, his hand moving from my hair to my upper back, rubbing calming circles on it. “We don’t have to do anything tonight if you’re not ready. I’m willing to wait until you’re comfortable if you—”
