Page 20 of If You Could Only Believe
Burying my face in her pussy felt so natural and right; soon I was teasing, tasting and savoring all on instinct. I paid attention to Sophia’s body, and I listened to her throaty sounds and let her lead me to where I needed to go and how to get there.
Before I knew it, her hands were in my hair and she was screaming my name with only my tongue on her. “Michael! Oh, God! Yes!”
Sophia was cumming all over my face and I had never felt so accomplished in all my life.
I rolled to my side as Sophia basked in her-I hope-first orgasm ever, and reaching down, I unbuckled my belt, undid my pants and whipped out my dick in record time.
Sophia was still coming down off her high when I climbed back up her body, nestled my cock between her thighs, and with no elegance whatsoever, I slammed my cock into her pussy, bare and rock fucking hard.
And, Holy Jesus, Mary and Joseph, she screamed bloody murder. My body was braced on my elbows, once again, and looking down at her, her head thrown back, I could see the veins in her neck pulse and strain with her screams and the pain of the invasion.
She looked fucking spectacular.
I pulled back a little and slamming back inside her body for a second time, had white spots dancing behind my eyes and my fuckingsoulshivering.
Sophia felt like I would die if I couldn’t live inside her for the rest of my life. Her body was so hot and tight, it was a wonder I could move my cock in and out of her constricting sheath.
I studied her as tears leaked down the sides of her beautiful face, and the more she cried, the harder my dick got. No one else has ever been inside her. Just me. Only me.
“Michael…” she sobbed.
“I know, baby,” I knew she was in pain, and even though it killed me, I didn’t think I could stop. The pleasure of being buried inside her sweet cunt was making me selfish and inconsiderate of everything else. But, nonetheless, I had to try to put her first and ask, “Do you want me to stop?”
Her eyes popped open, and she wrapped her arms around me. Her eyes danced with a touch of panic. “No,” she cried. “No, don’t stop. Please…just…please, but don’t stop.”
I started moving and drilled into her until her sobs were replaced with low, mumbles of pleasure. I shifted my hips, trying to find that magical spot, because I was determined to make my less than graceful entrance all worth it. When Sophia let out a deep, hard moan, I knew I had found it.
Her eyes closed, her hands tightened on my shoulders and her hips rose up to meet mine. It was the rise of her hips that made me finally fall over the edge of sanity. I slammed into her with no care in the world other than to bring this, one woman, pleasure.
I could feel the tingles starting at the base of my balls, threatening to consume me, and I knew I had to hurry and get her there. I wasn’t going to last. “That’s it, baby,” I encouraged. “Cum for me again, Sophia. Cum all over my fucking cock.” She started thrashing about and moaning my name over and over.
Sophia liked dirty talk. Who would have fucking guessed?
“Michael, please…” she begged, and it was enough to make me lose my shit. I shoved my cock so deep and hard inside her tight warmth, I came inside her with the power to feel it all the way to my fingertips. As my body still twitched, I felt Sophia’s channel start clamp down on my cock with so much pressure, it fuckinghurt.
None of it…the books, the porn, the fantasies of what could be…none of it compared to the real thing. But I knew it wasn’t because this was the real thing.
It was because it was Sophia.
Chapter 11
Sophia~
Our harsh breathing was the only sounds in the room.
Michael Buchanan had just done the most amazing things to my body, and I didn’t even have the presence of mind to thank the man.
I did yelp when he finally removed himself from my body. And from just that act alone, I knew I would be sore as hell later, but I didn’t care.
“Shit,” Michael muttered.
I looked over at him sprawled out beside me. We were both fully clothed, looking utterly ridiculous. “What’s wrong?”
He threw one arm over his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “I’m covered in your blood and now I feel like a jackass for not…I could have taken my time,” he grumbled.
A small, sharp laugh escaped. “Michael, it was perfect,” I said, trying to reassure him.
He huffed. “Hardly,” he said, disagreeing. “But I’ll fix that.”
