Page 153 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
I groaned. “So good.”
“Shall I fuck you now?”
“Hmm? You’re already fucking me.”
Without warning, he pulled out almost completely. The sudden emptiness was devastating—my body clenched desperately, trying to hold on to him. Then he slid back in, inch by torturous inch, so slowly I could feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as it filled me again.
Oh.
The groan that tore from my throat was animalistic, primal. Nothing had prepared me for this—the deliberate slide of him into me, the way my body welcomed him back like coming home. Each millimetrewas agony and ecstasy braided together until I couldn’t distinguish between them.
Rory’s hands gripped my thighs, pulling them back towards him until we were flush, his chest pressed against my back. The angle drove him deeper, hitting my prostate so deliciously stars exploded behind my eyelids, brighter than the Northern Lights.
My hand lurched towards my cock, desperate for friction, for release from the building pressure.
Rory’s palm cracked against my hand.
“Don’t you dare,” he commanded, his voice carrying an authority that made me tingly. “That’s mine. I’m going to be the one to make you come.”
His hand replaced mine, wrapping around my cock with possessive certainty. The contrast was maddening—his slow, deliberate thrusts paired with the quick, sure strokes of his fist. He fucked me like he was memorising every angle, every response, whilst his hand worked me with the confidence of ownership. Each snap of his hips had his cock dragging against that sweet spot inside me whilst his fingers traced patterns of fire along my length. The rhythm was hypnotic—in, stroke, out, squeeze—building something vast and terrible and beautiful inside me.
“Feel that?” he whispered against my ear, teeth grazing my lobe. “Feel how you’re mine?”
I could only whimper in response, lost in the symphony of sensation he was conducting. His cock filled me completely whilst his hand claimed me utterly, each movement a declaration that I belonged to him now.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
There were no other words—I was drowning in him, in us, in the way he played my body like an instrument he’d been born to master.
My arms gave out entirely, and I collapsed face first into the sleeping bag. The silky soft fabric cushioned my cheek, cool against my burning skin whilst Rory continued his relentless rhythm above me.
And then Rory was stretched out over me, his chest pressing against my back—a comforting, intensely satisfying weight. His heart pounded so hard I could feel it, each beat hammering through me like a second pulse. His hands gripped my arms, holding me steady. Soft lips found the space between my shoulder blades as he pressed tender kisses there whilst he moved.
…Never felt anything like this. Never want it to end. Want to stay buried inside him forever…
Rory’s thoughts crashed through me, intense, desperate, and I moaned into the fabric beneath me. His lips found my shoulder blade, pressing a tender kiss there before his teeth scraped across. He moved to the back of my neck, sucking a mark into the tender flesh just below my hairline. Lightning shot through me—the wet heat of his mouth, the gentle scrape of teeth, the way his tongue soothed each fresh mark he left on my skin.
His hips ground against me in slow, devastating circles, each movement sending shockwaves through my already overwrought system. I wasn’t going to last much longer.
“I want to see you,” I gasped, turning my head to catch his eye. “Need to see you.”
Those blue-green eyes I’d become obsessed with met mine, pupils blown wide with desire. Without hesitation, Rory pulled out—the sudden emptiness making me whimper—and turned me over. He lifted my left leg, settling it on his shoulder. The new position opened me up, leaving me utterly exposed beneath his hungry gaze.
Rory’s slide back in was so easy, we both groaned. This angle was deeper, more intense, but most importantly, it allowed me to watch his beautiful face as he filled me.
“Teddy,” he breathed, beginning to rock against me with slow, measured thrusts. “I… I feel so close to you right now.”
Before I could attempt to reply, his thumb found the spot on my throat where he’d marked me, rubbing over the tender skin as he leaned down, capturing my lips in a kiss that was bottomless, endless. Everything.I surrendered completely, swallowing down his whimpers and needy moans as his tongue explored my mouth with the same thoroughness he’d shown the rest of my body.
“Rory,” I rasped against his lips.
…baby…baby…baby…
The word echoed through his thoughts like a desperate chant. He wanted me to say it again, wanted to be called baby. Wanted it badly.
“My precious baby,” I whispered, stroking every inch of him I could reach—the trembling muscles of his shoulders, the flutter of pulse beneath his neck, the fevered heat of his chest under my shirt.
The smile he gave me was beyond blinding, beyond beautiful.
