Page 63 of Orion Ruined

“You’ll feel much better afterward, and that’s all we want to achieve.”

Sitting next to her, I run my hands up from the base of her spine, letting my thumbs glide along the vertebrae. A hum escapes her lips. I repeat the movement a few times and then trace small circles around her shoulder blades, applying pressure.

She moans each time I do. I like to think she’s expelling her worries. When I’m useful to her, I’m a man. Shame my father considered me useful only when I killed, and thus created a pattern that’s, well, not good for people. I’m glad I’m not like him, though. My kills are with a blade: clean-cut, fast, invisible. By the time you realize I’ve cut you, you’re bleeding to death.

“Was the doctor right, sweetheart?”

Her pillow swallows her groan as she nods into it.

My hands go down her legs, smartly skipping over the panties. I massage her all the way from her buttocks to her feet. I then take one foot in my hand and begin to rub her sole with my thumb.

I move up her leg from her ankle, and work my magic on her butt cheeks using the right amount of pressure, massaging the muscles there. She’s stiff. She must’ve gone through hell today.

My hand slides between her legs, focusing on her inner thighs. I use long, circular motions from the backs of her knees and along her adductor muscles. She continues to moan softly as I massage her.

My fingers sporadically brush her panties, and with each light touch her sounds come out different, deeper.

I place my palms on the backs of her thighs and knead upward, my fingers sliding under her panties over her buttocks, and as I do her ass lifts under my touch.

“You’re enjoying this, Maisy?”

“Yes.” She looks back at me, pushes herself up onto her hands and arches her back, sliding one knee aside, opening up to me.

I snicker. This girl can’t make me harder than I already am. “I’m not finished. Turn onto your back.”

I help her roll over and start with her legs, my fingers going up to the space between her thighs, then back down again. Her eyes are locked on mine but her breathing is what gets me, her breasts heaving, her nipples already hardening.

Between her legs is a wet patch on the material of her panties. The final straw for me. This beautiful creature wants, no, needs, no, calls me to fuck her. There’s clear evidence.

“Your panties are ruined.” I gently run my fingers over them and she smiles at me. She takes my other hand and guides it to her breast, using my hand to knead herself.

My eyes close. I’m loving every bit of this, and before she changes her mind, I pinch her nipple and give it a soft tug.

She is gorgeous as she lies there. I lean in and suck the other nipple, then pepper her with kisses from her neck up to the edge of her earlobe. Her fingers rake my hair and she pulls me to her, eyes locked with mine, absorbing every particle of my existence.

“I need you,” she whispers.

I feel my lips quirk. “The doctor agrees, sweetheart.”

I press my lips to her and devour her mouth, our tongues tangling in a rushed dance. I cup her breast in one hand and knead it gently before squeezing her nipple, tugging it again and making her bite my lip. She loves that.

I hook my fingers under the waistband of her panties and peel them off. Everything is so smooth, like it’s been choreographed since a long time ago. She opens her legs and pulls me between them by my collar. I kiss her as I shrug my shirt off my shoulders, then pull away to lift it over my head.

Hungry for touch, we kiss again, our bodies pressed into each other. She’s hurrying in her own way, but I take my time. This thing she does, when the moment she’s horny, she rushes in as if someone else will take her place, is not good for her.

“Hey, breathe,” I whisper.

I fix my position between her legs and unzip my pants. My cock is hard as a rock and I fist it a few times as I dive into the black pools of her eyes. She’s holding me safe as much as I am her. This is pure heaven. I brush my cock along her arousal, sliding up and down and over her clit.

“Logan,” she breathes.

She uses her hips to try to move down on me, but I want to tease; it’s what I love, to see her desperate. But I’d rather be inside her than out and too soon I give in, thrusting slowly into her, stretching her as I move, filling her beautifully, inch by inch. My head drops to her shoulder, feeling every part of her as I enter her to the hilt and growl into her neck.

“Stay inside me forever,” she whispers in my ear.

I place my elbows on either side of her head and hold her face in my hands. We stare at each other as I thrust, pulling out to the tip and entering her to the hilt in a rhythm that gradually picks up speed.

With each accelerated thrust, I pound her harder and deeper. My need, my craving for her, is raw, and I hear myself grunting in between her staccato moans, and the faster I move the closer we are to erupting into our own fireworks. That’s what spending time with Maisy is.

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