Page 98 of Prelude To You

She rubbed her needy, swollen clit against the tip of my cock. “And what were you imagining in the shower,mon coeur?”

I cupped her ass and spread her thighs wider, trailing a finger along her soaked folds, my cock begging for entrance. “I was imagining this. How it would feel to be inside you, buried so deep I could feel the pulse of your heart.”

Her body trembled against mine. My tongue swept along her jaw as she straddled herself over my cock and slowly inched herself onto it until I was sheathed to the hilt. Pleasure engulfed me. “And you my sweet, what did you do with yourself?”

She could barely breathe let alone speak, her hips rolling into me, demanding I go deeper. “I danced until I was so tired I couldn’t see straight.”

“Did it help?”

“No, I woke up during the night. And I dreamed it was your fingers between my thighs.”

“Are you telling me you made yourself come thinking of me.”

“Yes, I did. I definitely did.”

My hands curled around her hips, and I angled myself so that my cock grazed that sensitive spot on her front wall. A low animalistic moan slipped from her glistening lips. She uttered something in French, something I highly doubted was decent. Something filthy that made my cock twitch even if I didn’t understand a word of French.

“And what were you thinking about when you came, Isabel?”

‘This, this right here, you deep inside of me, fucking me senseless.”

“And did you feel better after?”

“No, I wanted more,” she panted into my mouth. “I wanted you. I needed you.”

Her words gave life to a snarling beast of lust that would be nipping at my heels for all eternity. I groaned, and the only sounds left were a ravenous cock thrusting in and out of a very tight, wet pussy, our jagged uneven breathing, Isabel murmuring fervently in French, and me telling her how fucking amazing she was and how she had breathed existence into my world.

We became a tangle of limbs, chanting whispers, and insatiable desire.

By now we had a pattern. The nymph came first, if only for me to watch and feel her break apart on my cock in powerful, shuddering waves, crying out my name. Her pleasure was my pleasure, and I didn’t wait for her to finish before grinding into her again and again, extracting one more wave from her. And when the gnawing cycle of tension and heat unraveled from the base of my spine, I finally succumbed to my own voracious release clawing through me with brutal force.

As Isabel crumpled against me into this sated little mound, I wrapped her tighter in my arms, breathing her in, my cock stillburied inside her. If ever there was a moment I wanted to etch into my mind and preserve forever, this was the one.

We stayed like that for a while, long enough for this feeling inside my chest to transcend logic, and long enough for my thoughts to drift into what-if territory. I was usually the poster boy for discipline and restraint. Toying with outcomes that conflicted with my fated mission in life, was new to me.

Isabel sighed, her breath caressing the skin on my throat. “I didn’t know pleasure…sex like this existed. I mean, I thought it would be great, but this is… Is it always like this for you?” she asked curiously.

How did I answer that without laying my heart at her feet? How did I tell her that it was all new to me too?

“I’ve never had this with anyone except you, Isabel.”

“Oh,” she said, and I didn’t have to see her face to know how confusing this was for her. She was still completely unaware of the threat she posed, and still oblivious to what it was going to take for me to walk away from her.

I gently severed myself from our fusion, murmuring something about wanting to clean her.

In the bathroom I dampened a washcloth with warm water. The man I saw in the mirror wasn’t the same one who entered the hotel with a woman he barely knew, and not the man who thought fucking her in the penthouse for a few hours would extract her from his system. No. This was a man pondering the potentially catastrophic decisions now eagerly swarming through his mind.

There was no muffling the sliver of panic dousing my insides, and I braced myself for the inevitable moment when reality would finally tap me on the shoulder, letting me know it was time to check back in.

When I returned to Isabel, it was as if she sensed I’d been battling an existential crisis.

I tenderly wiped my seed from her thighs while she traced my talking vein with her finger. “Tell me something about yourself. Something personal that I can take with me,” she said softly.

She was trying to soothe me, the man who couldn’t give her more than one night of himself.

I folded the washcloth and discarded it on the nightstand. Then I crawled back into bed beside the nymph, facing her, our legs weaving into a knot.

The selfish bastard in me was petrified that after tonight, she’d push me from her mind and simply move on with her life. I wanted to answer her question with something I’d never shared with anyone else.

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