Page 45 of Surrender
He takes care to shape my hair into a ponytail so he’s pulling all the locks with the same pressure. Matching my motions on his dick, he pulls back and releases with every bob of my head, riding me instead of steering me. Dampness seeps out between my legs and my desire to have more takes over.
Unceremoniously, I release him from my mouth and feel around the sofa for the condom I abandoned earlier. I’m grateful Gareth can’t see my trembling fingers as I rip open the condom and slide it over his throbbing, soaked erection.
“Fuck, Treacle.” Gareth’s voice is rough with desire as I position myself astride him and press his tip between my folds.
I pause there, taking in the full sight of him. Hands out to his sides, palms up, body tense and waiting. Waiting for whatever I’m willing to give him. He’s so incredibly sexy. Most men wouldn’t accept this kind of role reversal. They’d feel emasculated. Callum certainly would have.
But Gareth isn’t like most men. He’s hard and soft. Strong and flexible. He’s huge and muscled but willing to be completely at my mercy.
“Take off the blindfold,” I demand.
He hesitates for a moment before pulling the fabric down so it hangs around his neck.
Now’s the time Gareth could look at my body. My breasts, my pussy. The apex where his condom-covered dick sits, waiting for enclosure. There is mountains of flesh he could gawk at, but his eyes are locked on mine. His hazel eyes—framed by long, dark lashes and a serious brow—are trained on my face, witnessing everything I’m feeling.
Without a word, I sink down onto him, shifting my legs out as wide as possible to take him as deep as he can go. Both of our jaws drop in silent cries and our foreheads press together as our bodies adjust to the pressure. I haven’t had sex with anyone since Gareth over a year ago, and my body is reminding me of that painful fact.
But there’s always a beauty with this kind of pain and burning ache that’s like scratching an itch to the point of orgasm. It doesn’t take long for my hips to begin grinding against the tightness of him inside of me, digging into that delicious pain.
“Touch me, Gareth.” My lips drag up his forehead as I throw my head back and shift even deeper on top of him. “I want to feel your hands all over me.”
“With pleasure,” he growls and begins a smooth coast up my legs and over my ass. Then his hands continue a strong slide up my spine, pausing to grip my hair in a tight squeeze.
“Yes,” I moan. “Pull it.”
He obeys and takes the opportunity to press his lips to my neck, inhaling deeply as he does. “You smell so fucking good,” he husks, suckling at the pulse thundering in my throat. “And you taste even better.”
“More,” I croon and swirl my hips on his lap. “I need to hear your voice, Gareth. Tell me everything you’re thinking.”
“I can’t wait to feel you come on my cock,” he replies instantly, his other hand digging into the meat of my ass cheek, riding the rocking motion of my pelvis. “When I felt you come on my fingers last night, it took everything I had not to come all over myself.”
“I would have been so mad.”
“Why?” he asks, clearly teeing me up to talk dirty back to him.
“Because I want to feel you come,” I reply, grabbing his hair firmly and yanking his face from my neck so he looks into my eyes. I stare him down as I use his shoulder for leverage to begin bouncing on his lap. “I told you this cock is mine and I meant it.”
His eyes hood at the increased friction. “Fucking hell,” he moans, his own hips thrusting up to meet every drop of pressure I’m giving him.
“Faster, Gareth. Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”
A frenzy takes hold of both of us. Next thing I know, I’m screaming for him to flip us over. He lays me across the length of the sofa, and I prop one foot on the arched back as he positions himself between my legs. He grabs my other leg and begins thrusting into me so hard, I have to hold my breath to stop myself from erupting instantly. No man I’ve ever slept with could keep a pace like this, but Gareth seems to be doing it without breaking a sweat.
So this is why women lust after athletes. The strength. The muscles. The stamina.
I score my nails up his back, relishing the feeling of his muscles flexing with every pump of his hips, and he grunts from the pain of my hold. What began as a warm, controlled fire in the hearth has exploded into a raging house fire that will desecrate every cognizant thought in my mind.
I can’t speak. Noises are coming out of me, but I’m not willing them to do so. And despite how much I crave Gareth’s dirty mouth, I don’t have the energy or the mindset to utter a single demand.
I don’t know who’s in control anymore. All I know is when we finally fall over that cliff together—when that fire hose smothers the raging inferno—all that’s left is smoke, sweat, and heavy breathing. A cloud of delirious ecstasy.
Gareth pulls out and lifts his heavy weight off of me, sitting up between my legs and pulling off the condom right in front of me. I watch the veins in his forearms as he ties a knot and drops the rubber on the floor. In one swift move, he rolls us so I’m on top of him. His softening penis presses against my belly as my head and hair splay across his damp chest.
His fingers find my hair as I stare at the wall, recovering from the shock of such a powerful orgasm. I would have thought the slickened feeling of sweaty flesh on sweaty flesh would bother Gareth, but he doesn’t seem tense. He seems relaxed, the rise and fall of his chest slowing as he catches his breath.
Gareth’s voice is hoarse and muffled in my ears when he croaks, “If that was the main course, I do hope you’ll be offering seconds.” His fingers brush my scalp as he mindlessly plays with my hair.
With a smirk, I muster all the strength I have to lift my head and rest my chin on his chest. “I think I’m definitely up for seconds.”
