Beauty of the Blistering Sky | By : UltraVioletSoul Category: +S through Z > Splinter Cell Views: 1828 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell or its characters. Neither do I own the song "Bullets" by Archive. No copyright infringement intended. I am just trying to provide entertainment, and by no means do I have lucrative purposes. |
Chapter VII
Every passionate kiss; every urgent stroke; every sensual sound, ignited a new source of newfound pleasure that you discovered with this man. You had never thought you could find any safer as darkness laid its cover on your tangled forms, all faces of the past suddenly lost the moment his menacing eyes chased away your fears– eyes which seemed to look right through your soul. It was not a cliché statement; you truly felt it in the way his gaze bore into you, even in the foggy curtain of dark shades that hazed your sight. It was an intensity that took your breath away and made you feel naked, vulnerable, yet protected and safe.
“Better, isn’t it?” His raspy voice whispered close to your ear, lips ghosting over your frail neck, and you sighed with a small shudder coursing through your body. In his arms, the darkness meant no harm tonight. Not while you were by his side; not on his watch.
Even in the pale source of light from the streets, which infiltrated from openings in the blinds, it felt like your senses had been enhanced, making your skin scorch and your heart race, but you knew it had to be more than that. It was the unexpectedness; the anticipation; not knowing where the next caress would land or where his lips would fall which had you writhing and panting beneath him. Your insides stirred, excited for the unknown, and he could smell your musky longing as you moaned in delight and arched against him, hands firmly planted on his broad shoulders.
“Leo.” You managed to mumble in the haziness of your mind, a small smile forming on your lips as you closed your eyes. Sliding your fingers south, you hooked them onto the hem of his black tee shirt and rolled it upwards, slowly. Soon, you felt the hot skin of his firm back, the pad of your fingers tracing the long rugged scar that had been left on it. He seemed to enjoy the sensation, as he purred and buried his face in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping with lazy motions.
Sam soon got the drift and joined your efforts in getting him undressed, feeling the cool air hitting his nude torso. Your hands ran free on his solid chest and well-defined six-pack, smothering against the soft tuft on thin dark hair which formed a treasure trail to his hips and lower. He hovered over you, arms supporting his weight, while you held his stubbly cheeks and kissed him slowly, tongues grazing and smacking every now and in a wet embrace.
What was he doing? He wondered once and again, feeling the soft curves of your smaller body pressing against his mighty and dominant frame. He knew he should not be doing this to you; knew that he should have found the strength to let go of you and run away from the sweet lure of lust which threatened to ruin both of you. But he could not do it. Sam could not bring himself to renounce to the soft feeling of your mouth against his, or your delicious gasps that made him want to ravish you until the rays of the Sun found your naked and weary bodies.
He could not think things through with the coolness he required in this situation. The only thing he could think of was that he had to find release; his body screamed for a way to vent this painful need that violently rushed through his veins. Ever since that first kiss you had shared, it had been impossible to get you out of his head. He could not; he could not stop seeing your lovely face whenever he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep. He could not forget the way your body had reacted to his caresses and kisses; the way you had explored his skin with trembling and feverish hands, like you wanted to memorize every muscle, every shudder and scar of his.
Yet, he had not wanted to take advantage of you that night; he had refused to do it. You surely would regret your reckless actions the next morning, and he was not willing to put up with the drama that would blow once you lay the blame on him.
Women were complicated creatures, he always believed. Granted he was a complex man himself; still, he preferred to keep things simple and straightforward, especially when it came to personal matters. Sam knew such a thing was unlikely when it came to relationships and commitment, and this was the reason why he had stayed clear from the opposite sex ever since the woman who had stolen his heart, Regan, divorced him.
His dear Regan, his long gone Regan; her ghost haunted him every night, and there were things he could not forget– things that filled him with guilt and made him seek a way to cleanse his faults.
Things changed when he met you, but he knew such a thing was impossible. He should have let this feeling die away, and yet your eyes were a reminiscence he could not escape from. Why would his interest in you remain, he did not understand. You were just a girl who did not know better. You could be his daughter, for goodness’ sake! He felt like a depraved for finding you desirable and having his loins on fire whenever he thought of you; for actually working his way to a raw release— which was more of a matter of relief rather than pleasure— in the solitude of his lavish and desolate bedroom.
Call it egoism, call it insanity, but he had to see you once more.
Sam engulfed you in his arms, your breasts smashed against him as you devoured each other's mouths with an angry passion he never thought possible. It was animalistic desire, full of need and hunger for one another, and the fact he wanted to quench it so bad scared him a great deal.
Rolling, so you were on top of him this time, you teased one another with bites and licks and it was not long before he felt one of your hands glide south and stroke him through his pants. He was not expecting this so soon and grunted, both in pain and unbearable pleasure, as your fingers tried to wrap around his concealed girth. He could not help it, however. It had been so long ever since he had the desire to be intimate with the fairer species, and your bold moves on him did not help at all to take things easier.
You had to be a witch. This had to be witchcraft, otherwise why would he be here tonight?
Up and down, your small hand took him to this frenzied trance that he had not felt by the hand of another woman for a very long time. Your tentative expression of indulgence, as you held his growing hardness with a delicate grasp, sent him to this almost forgotten delicious tension that preceded the glorious release. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, your movements threatened to finish him as your fingers dangerously edged the hem of his pants, searching for the button that you soon undid before working the zipper down.
Taking a deep breath, you bit your lips and caressed his thick muscular thighs, going up to his narrow hips, as he drew in a sharp breath. You inwardly gulped, dragging the edge of his dark cargo pants downwards just enough for you to see the contour of a pronounced and raging hard-on concealed by dark underwear. He responded with a hiss and a hand on your naked thigh, squeezing it, as the other gripped your waist and attempted to settle you down to straddle his aching region. Oh, your crotch tingled to feel it close, insides melting, as his groan drifted in the night in a swirl of abandon and brazen ardor.
Incomprehensible words followed when you raised your hips and sat on his lap, hand drawing closer to that particular part of his body you had been so curious about. It was true you were not a stranger to the male anatomy, but you were aware that this was not a patient of yours anymore, and the curiosity you carried was genuine. You wanted to know all of him, from head to toes; you wanted this as much as he did, and you had agreed to this out of free will. You had decided he was going to be your first, and you wanted to enjoy every minute of this unforeseen lovemaking with him.
But should you let him know?
The painful-looking expression on his face gave his carnal enjoyment away and, as the cadence of his grunts became more frequent, he felt the heat surge to his skin in violent waves. His muscles had become tense; fingers burying in your waist with almost bruising strength. He could see you licking your lips as you caressed him and teased to pull down his tighter-than-usual underwear. The cat-like smile on your lips as you watched him suffer was something he could hardly miss, and it made his blood boil with both lust and exasperation. Why was it that a woman was mocking him in such a way?
Why was it that he enjoyed it so much?
If only he could allow himself to end this now and turn away, it would be so much easier. However, it would take more than that to sate his hunger for you. That was why, despite thoroughly enjoying your attentions, his hand removed yours from his groin, which caused you to look up at him with wide eyes.
"A-am I doing something wrong?" Your voice had panic to it as confusion washed all over your face and he subtly frowned, holding you at arm’s length. Were you kidding? You certainly had tortured him, and it had taken all of his willpower to stop you. If you were trying to look inexperienced, he was not buying it for sure. "Why—?"
"I see someone's impatient here." He smirked, instead, as he cupped your bottom in his hands, kissing you hard. All thoughts were lost to you the moment his hands slid up your back, and you reciprocated the dance of lips with eagerness. He figured you too wanted it, and badly. Was there something wrong about two people that wanted nothing but to satiate their most primal instincts? He did not think so. He could indulge in such pleasures from time to time; even more when such a pretty thing, like you, seduced him.
This had not been what he had intended, but what could he have expected? For you two to sit down and drink coffee like nothing happened? Pretending that there was nothing going on between you two? Why did he come, in the first place? Was it the need of seeking comfort in the wings of a young dove? Was it the loneliness which had pushed him to these extents?
His work was done, and Sam was finally able to enjoy the wonders of a short leave— or rather the solitude of a life confined in his cold and lonely nest in Maryland, Towson. Of course, his main priority had been his daughter, Sarah— the only woman he would ever love with all his heart, he always told himself—, but it had taken him some time to realize that his baby girl was not a little child anymore. Her interests had changed in time, and spending her days with her old man suddenly was not on her list of more important things to do, as sad as that sounded. Sam could not blame her, however. His beloved Sarah was young and with so much to live for. Why should she bother with an old man like him?
What was he doing, for the love of God?
As soon as the image of Sarah— and, with her, Regan’s— became clear in his mind he parted from you, a look of shame evident on his slightly tanned face. Was it right to do this? Why all of a sudden he felt the need to relive the things that he thought had been buried years ago? It was not fair; for you and him– for him, because the reminiscence of his lost love pained him beyond belief; and for you, because you had been a simple victim of the circumstances– because you were just a kid. It was not supposed to be like this; he had no right to do this to you. You deserved way much better than what he could offer.
You were young and had so much to live for.
“Leo? What’s wrong?” Your voice was high-pitched and reflected your insecurity and plain inexperience when it came to men. Your stomach had butterflies that brutally tossed and turned and you felt mortified at your own artlessness in bed. He surely had been with women way more skilled in the art of love, and more beautiful than you were. How could you compete with that? How many bodies had he worshipped all throughout his life? Would you be able to live up to his expectations tonight?
It did not matter how hard he tried to resist; when he looked in your eyes, he simply could not stop himself. He did not want to stop. However, you probably did not know what you were getting yourself into.
You had no idea of what he had in store for you.
He was the one to blame; he was the wrongdoer here, the villain, the transgressor who was about to shred your soul to pieces. He was going to crush your bones, tear your flesh and be done with you once he was spent and had released all of his strain in you– all of his frenzied ache your willing and enticing little body caused him to feel.
What a nice prospect lay ahead of you.
A rugged hand affectionately brushed your cheek, and fingers traced your puffy-kissed lips. “I’m not the man you think I am.” He blurted out of the blue, and you stared at him with confused deer-like eyes before smiling that sweet smile of yours. It did not help, at all, but he found a fleeting promise of liberation and ephemeral bliss.
"You think I don’t know who you are, but I do.” You finally said, fishing for the right words. This moment with him was something you wanted to remember for the rest of your life, and you wanted him to know your thoughts– your desires. “You’re the only man I want to be with, and that’s all I need to know tonight.”
He believed, for a second, that he had forgotten how to breathe when you said the last part. There was a pain, deep inside, whose cause he could not make out. Was it guilt kicking in now of all times? Was it the testosterone in his body preparing him for an acute response?
The way those sweet words had poured from your plump lips was passionate, yet they carried an innocence he wished did not have its source in a trusting heart. It was as if you were telling him you wanted him to have a part of you, even if it was for a brief moment; to pretend that he loved you, deep somewhere in his lonely heart. He saw it in your eyes, too– loneliness and even a little of longing for things that could not be anymore.
He wanted to run away from you but, instead, his fingers tangled in your hair and he kissed you, turning over so you were beneath him, trapped between the mattress and his strong frame. You squeaked at the sudden movement, and he chuckled when your wide eyes and your shy smile replaced the confusion on your features. There was something affectionate in the way your hands caressed him, attentive eyes appreciated the chiseled features of his face. Gracious fingers traced their way from high cheekbones, a sharp nose, to half-open enticing lips and a strong jaw prickling your palm.
For Sam, this was not merely vain seduction on your part; it was a caring treatment he had not received in years on end, and now he realized just how much he had missed it. Sam realized how painful these long years in solitude had been, as though a bucket of cold water had been splashed all over him, and how close to him the narcotic solution to that solitude was.
It was practically writhin and humming in pleasure beneath him.
With a languid movement, your legs were wrapped around his hips and he tried not to groan as your lower bodies met, the friction of your congested fleshes sending shivers and waved of stinging pain that were hard to conceal.
Your hands slid up his broad back and you pecked his cheeks, weakly smiling as you did. "Stay with me. I promise to be a good girl for you. I need you, Leo. I need you so bad right now it hurts."
He suddenly felt a cradle robber but, at the same time, a voice in the back of his mind was telling him to stay, to alleviate his thirst and find solace in you. No one did have to know; this idyllic romance did not have to last forever. He did not have to promise you forever; just one night. How difficult could it be? Forgetting his loneliness, he needed that comfort so much and you were within his reach. You were real, as real as his desire for you.
His mouth captured yours and your arms sneaked around his strong neck, bringing him in for another desperate kiss. You felt one his calloused hands grab your hips and pull you close to him, as he steadied his body with a forearm above your head. His large frame seemed to engulf yours, and feeling so vulnerable made you willing and ready to submit. Did Mother Nature mean things to be this way; for your body to feel the need to crawl under his and yearn to be dominated like a female in heat? Did your body react in this chaotic and scary way because a series of chemical reactions had been unchained, and it deemed this man as a suitable mate to protect you? You did not know; you honestly did not care. All you wanted to know was that he wanted you and you wanted him, too.
You could not help but groan when his tongue invaded your mouth and, immediately, felt yourself getting wetter as Sam fondled and squeezed your sensitive breasts, alternating between gentle and rougher handling. His hands massaged your mounds and you gasped, gripping his ripped forearms for much needed support. Back arching, you instinctively waved your hips against his and purred when you felt a soft pull at your hair. It had not been painful, but it had certainly caused you to produce a sensuous response that, unbeknownst to you, he found more than attractive— sexually, that is.
“Stop doing that.” Why? Your heart sank at his serious request. Did he not like it, at all? Were you that much of a disaster? Wide eyes looked at him, and the lost and shocked expression they carried caused him to chuckle teasingly and brush some locks of hair out of your flushed face. “There’s no hurry. Just, let me—” Sam could not finish the sentence. What was he supposed to say? Let me love you? Or let me fuck you good and slow?
“I’m sorry.” You choked those words, feeling a small lump in your throat. You felt like crying at your stupidity, but you rapidly covered your trembling voice with pants of sexual tension. “I just—” I don’t know what to do.
"I know." He mumbled against your left cheek, his wonderful mouth making its way to your neck. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his tongue sliding down your skin and licking your pulse. How? How did he know which places to touch? It was like he knew your body like the back of his hand. You were left unable to speak, words becoming a slurred garble of isolated thoughts. But there was no need for words when all you had to do was feeling; feeling his hands, his mouth, and his body hard and strong against yours; this man inside of you.
If you were going to Hell, then so be it. The punishment would be painful, but you had faith you would have the strength to endure it with the illusion of his scent on your deserted bed.
You needed that solace as much.
I’m sorry, too, little one.
Caressing you with his lips, he descended on your shivering and feverish body, slowly, taking his time to worship your neck and collarbone before his mouth fell on your heaving chest. One lick here and your hands shot to his silvery head to keep him in place; one nibble there and your fingers dug in his scalp. He groaned at the slight pain and, when his lips parted, you felt your nipple entering a vacuum of pleasure as his tongue worked wonders on your sensitive flesh. Suckling, pulling, biting, he attacked you relentlessly and you found yourself encouraging him by placing a hand on his nape and other stroking the back of his head, nestling him to your chest.
You whimpered his name after kissing his damp forehead and he just gave you this look that conveyed both lust and concern. The way you had said his name, with hopeless devotion, worried him and he doubted that you would live up to your promise of no attachments. He really doubted that he would be able to leave without hurting you in the process. But you just smiled at him and stroked his shoulders as if to reassure him that it was okay with you; that you really wanted this and were hoping that he did, too.
He did not deserve you. Your heart should not be his to break and betray.
Switching to your other breast, the sequence of whimpers, moans and gasps repeated, as you felt his fingers play with the hem of your plain white underwear. He would not show his hesitancy but, to you, Sam seemed to have a quarrel in his mind for a good few seconds before he started to slide the garment down to your ankles, his rough hands caressing your bare and smooth legs. It made you feel relieved that you had decided to shave and apply cream on them, that evening, and you enjoyed the contrast between their softness and the hard-skinned feeling of his hands.
You began to feel self-conscious of your body as cold air licked your core, but did your best to conceal it. However, the way his green eyes roamed all over your nudity made your heart race as there seemed to be criticism present in them. His gaze slowly travelled, from your exposed inner thighs, to your stomach; it lingered for a moment on your swollen breasts, and the way they danced with every intake of breath, before it rested on your flushed face.
You breathed in short gasps, fingers fidgeting over your sternum as you too swept your gaze over him. The sight of his powerful form on top of yours; the solid muscles of his slightly hairy chest rippling under his suntanned skin made you tremble in delight as your fingers ghosted over his pectorals. His nipples became stiff under your gentle touch and you all but giggled at his reaction when his hand covered yours, and guided it to the large bulge in his briefs.
Your eyes widened a little when you got to feel his member for a second time; it was much bigger than before and it was throbbing with such force that you believed he might as well be in pain.
"See what you’ve been doing to me?" His voice rasped without shame and you could not help but smile when he confessed that he actually had been thinking about you in such dirty ways. And how could he not when you seduced him whenever you had the chance? Walking around your department in nothing but a baggy T-shirt and panties, while he watched you from a corner of the living-room, hiding in the shadows of the night? Swaying that little butt of yours as you opened the refrigerator to get a liquid refreshment, and the only thing he could do was watching from afar– yearning for what he could not have. "Will you be a good little girl from now on?"
You nodded in earnest, and he chuckled darkly before sliding a long and calloused finger along the length of your hot and soaked wet spot. You gasped in surprise at the unexpected invasion, feeling as he teased your entrance and clit with gentle motions. It was not long before he set a steady pace, your crotch tingling and your body feeling something was missing; it craved to be filled and you moaned in joy when he made his way through your tight flesh, slowly stretching and stroking with gentle motions that soon began to turn fast-paced.
It soon turned uncomfortable, when two of his fingers tried to slip into you all at once, and he stopped for a moment to give you a suspicious look.
He knew it, did he not?
Your heart beat faster at the way he studied you, and you found had it hard to hide the spontaneous grimaces on your face whenever he carefully pushed in and was met with unwanted resistance, flesh closing in on tightly around him. He slowed down, his strokes soft and careful and you bit the back of your index finger, before gripping the sheets and giving a breathless sigh when his thumb went back to work on your clit at a tortuous speed. He was not going to have mercy on you, and you figured you kind of deserved this punishment.
You wanted all of what he had to give; all of him for you tonight.
What followed next had to be one of the most unexpected and erotic images that would be forever engraved on your mind. Your legs were placed on his strong shoulders and, before you knew it, your body was arching in pleasure as his mouth touched you in places you had never dreamed of being touched. His tongue slowly teased you, at first, moving from the sides of your petals drawing them to his mouth before he softly flicked it over your sensitive nub, occasionally gliding downwards to dip the tip in the center of your feverish and moist core. The wet sounds of his oral assault, and his coarse stubble scraping your tender and soft skin, turned you on beyond your understanding, and your moans of pleasure drove Sam crazy with unleashed wanton as your hands grabbed his head and tried to tug at his short hair. Your breathing was labored, and your body a trembling mess that was beginning to experience the first stages of a violent orgasm. You were so close to that wonderful sensation; to the pinnacle of pleasure. Your hips rose a little, causing him to pick up the pace, and the tension kept building, mighty, delicious and painful as the muscles of your legs went stiff with your efforts to deal with this ecstatic sensation.
"Let go." His voice fleetingly said in between licks and kisses, his fingers continuing the delicious torture of your little nub when he seemed to be desperate for air. Looking down at him, his green eyes were fixed on your sweaty form as one of his hands stroked your thighs and stomach, trying to soothe you. You choked a feeble response, reaching for his hand and placing it on your breast, and cried out when he separated your folds and placed a long and hard lick enhanced with a hum from his throat.
This time, encouraged by his words, you whimpered overwhelmed by these chaotic sensations but did as he told you, and became undone as a wave of violent spasms took over your vulnerable form. You screamed and bucked your hips against his face, as his fingers dug in the skin of your hips and breast, and he gave a sultry moan of his when your orgasm exploded into a supernova of bright colors and heightened senses.
In the afterglow, you sighed contented and Sam licked his thin lips, grinning with mischief; then, he began to kiss your inner thighs, and playfully nipped at them. His silky tongue even lapped at you, tentatively, making you hiss when an electric shock hit your sensitive and abused nerves. But you endured, as he ‘cleaned’ the mess he had made with soft strokes, building the tension within you again until you came again with a muffled whimper. Sam could not help but chuckle at your gleaming eyes and red cheeks, aroused by your moist skin carrying the smell of your arousal, and his lips were on yours again, sharing the taste of your climax with you. You were yet to come down from your high and did not even notice when he made himself comfortable by your side.
When you regained your senses, you turned to him with a smile and thanked him for the wonderful pleasure he had made you feel. He hummed something you did not quite catch as you snuggled a little closer, resting your hand on his chest before he placed his arm around you. A little shocked, you noticed he had already removed his pants and underwear, and you did not even know when he had found time to do it.
You remained like this, in silence, for a long time. He was not the talkative type, you knew about this, and you were not going to disrupt the peaceful moment you were sharing. You knew that, probably, dozing off after a short session was not the most romantic thing to do but you just were happy that he was not already trying to bang you and that he had thought about your pleasure, first. He also seemed to have an idea about what to do, and it surprised you how you were keeping up with him, so naturally, as though your body was in tune with his.
When you looked up, you noticed his eyes were closed and his breathing came out soft and steady. Yet, his erection stood proud and virile and your hands itched to touch it, despite your nervousness and artlessness, intent on returning the pleasure. He was reasonably gifted, both in length and width, you noticed, and the searing flesh twitched when your fingers timidly brushed against it.
"My, my, what a naughty girl you are. Were you always?" He grunted with an imperceptible smile, still with closed eyes, and you felt like crawling under the covers and curling in a ball.
If only he knew! If only you could tell him the truth, but such a thing was out of question. He would surely stop his affair right then and you did not want for that to happen. You had waited for a man like him for so long, and you were not going to let this opportunity pass by. You wanted it to be him, and you had decided it the moment you laid your eyes on him– you wanted to be his and feel like a woman once and for all. You wanted to have him inside you, to have him in control of your inexperienced self as he taught you the art of love that was foreign to you.
You found it hard to breathe when his cock was dangerously poking at your entrance, stiff and long. You both were stark naked at this point and Sam teased you to no end, rubbing himself against your opening but not going all the way. Quite honestly, you were growing a little nervous as he kept delaying the inevitable and it was not until you took the matter in your hands—literally— that you felt a little courageous to take the next step.
He hissed when your fingers wrapped around him, stroking him up and down a couple of times. Drops of pre-cum oozed from the tip, and you found yourself sampling their salty taste— which, surprisingly, was not bad as you had been told— from your fingers. Sam had to admit that he would have loved it if you took him in your smiling sweet mouth, but he was not sure he would last for very long. It had been so long ever since the last time he touched a woman, and he did not want to come like an adolescent on his first time. He wanted to make good use of his years as a lover, and the stamina he had built to survive life and death situations all throughout his career.
To say this was a matter of life and death would be, perhaps, an exaggeration. Yet, the way you clung to each other made it look like you would die if you did not find release soon.
You could not believe it when your thumb brushed over the slick and soft head and he growled, his flesh pulsing hotly in your hand. Sam groaned, hoarsely, and gave you a fierce look as his hand readily grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you into a bruising kiss that, yet again, left you gasping for air. When you parted, you could see the glowing fire in his eyes enveloping you in a scorching fever that drove your lips to beginning their journey south, leaving pecks all over his chest as your nails scratched naked skin. He encouraged you, voicing his enjoyment and delight, and you handsomely paid him off, becoming familiar with the sensation of him in your mouth as he hissed and panted with abandon. The sensation was foreing, unlike anything you had ever experienced before, but you got used to it watching as your man-for-one-night enjoyed himself, squeezing your shoulders before supporting his weight on an elbow.
He wanted to watch as you pleasured him, and he wanted you to watch him as he tried to delay his climax. What a dirty man was he, you thought with a newfound confidence while pulling back to arch a curious eyebrow at him. He frowned, nearly flaring his nostrils, as you licked your lips and gave him a cat-like smile before planting kisses on his smooth length. A deep intake of breath followed, Sam's eyes unwaveringly looking at you and you dared to envelop him with your lips, clenching them around him before slowly pulling back to stroke the tip with your tongue. That surely drove him crazy; his arm supporting him nearly gave out, and he groaned as you repeated the action a couple more of times.
Honestly, in other circumstances you would have felt truly inhibited by the lone thought of giving oral to a man, but he had made you so ready and willing you could barely restrain yourself anymore. It was then that you realized that you loved seeing him like this; there was so much enjoyment in hearing his sounds of rapture, that they alone were enough to make the spot between your legs ache in need.
Trying to remember a few of the erotic novels you had read, and some mature films, you attempted to imitate some of the techniques you had read and seen on him. You had realistic expectations, of course, and you were planning on going slow. It was not about reaching climax but how you managed to pleasure your partner to reach a mind-blowing orgasm, right? You were not sure if you would be able to do the latter, but you were determined to make this experience linger in his mind for a long time.
You felt his body become stiff, fingers tangling in your wild hair and, from time to time, he would moan, groan or whisper a strenuous ‘yes’ and these reactions would fuel your own lust and speed the tempo of your overwhelming movements.
It was close; it was close, you thought with joy. He was at his most vulnerable; at your mercy and he was all yours.
“Don’t.” His voice warned as a hand pulled you away from him, your lips shuddering at the emptiness they felt, hands gripping on him for dear life. “Not yet," his labored words demanded, brow creased and lips pulled into a wild snarl, as you kept stroking him to your heart's content. "Stop it," he warned again, a brisk rhythm of sighs reverberating in his chest, "don’t.”
But you did not listen; you never did, and his growl was all you needed to hear to know that you were in big trouble this time.
His painful expression conveyed suffering and longing, eyes shut tight and mouth open in a scream that died on his lips. The veins on his neck and temples looked as if they were about to burst, and his fingers left your hair in a rush so they could yank on the sheets. He was ready to tear them apart at any given time, body falling back on the mattress with a heavy thud. You felt him twitch in your hands and the force behind his orgasm sent several spouts of sweltering bodily fluids to your direction, leaving you completely amazed as you watched the numinous scene unfold before your eyes. Sam involuntarily thrust his hips forward, the last rivulets of his climax sliding down the back of your hand, and his moan of relief acted as the overture of a silent stare contest that lasted for the longest of times.
However, your victory was short-lived as his angry stare found you confused and upset when you were restrained and rolled on your back, again, a stream of sticky hot liquid drenching your torso and thighs. “I told you not to do that. I told you to be a good girl, didn’t I?”
You gulped, eyes wide and heart racing as his muscular arms trapped you and kept you from escaping. Why the sudden indignation, you wondered as you desperately fumbled for words. “I— Leo—” No time for explanations, this time. There was no need for them, either. Your voice caught in your throat when he licked your lips, holding your chin with a firm grasp.
“I’ll get back at you.” He whispered, with a smirk, collapsing on his side. He regarded you, for a minute or two, obviously pleased with your messy appearance, and one of his hands reached for your hair, briefly playing with it, before it slid down to your breasts and teased them. “I will.”
AFTER a few minutes, you got up and walked to the bathroom, retrieving a clean towelette from your closet on the way. Turning on the faucet of the tub to a warm temperature, you damped the cloth before wringing it and cleansed your body, from the earlier mess you had caused, while thinking about the man lying on your bed. Certainly, the whole situation felt strange to you and your stomach stirred with unwanted tension you tried to will away, as you watched a rather pronounced trail of white liquid trickle down your skin. It soon disappeared under the wet cotton, goosebumps forming once cool air hit moistness.
This was not meant to arouse you, but you still could recall the wonderful sensation of his hands roaming all over your body; his hot breath on your neck as he whispered in your ear; and how his lips would explore every inch of your untouched skin. Recalling his pleasured expression as his fingers became entangled in your hair; the groans and moans; the wildness of his climax, made your legs feel weak and you sensed the flowing wetness tingling between them, soft and hot.
You needed him really badly.
When you were finished, you rinsed the fabric and brought it with you to bed. You found his nude body sprawled on the mattress, chest imperceptibly rising and falling, closed eyes matching a peaceful face. Whether he was, in fact, asleep or pretended to be, you did not know, but you still reached to clean his body from any remainders of your late intimate session. Even so, you found it enjoyable being able to touch him like this and explore him at your leisure, without the pressure of time or judgment. If he was letting you do this, then you were thankful for that.
You had often heard your coworkers’ complaints about husbands and boyfriends who dropped off, after they were done, when women wanted to talk and cuddle. In all honesty, it did not bother you. Actually, you found it kind of cute. This was the first time you saw him sleep, and this new side of him made your heart flutter and a small smile form on your lips. The man looked peaceful, satisfied, and free of fears and concerns about tomorrow and beyond– as though nothing could get to him at this very moment.
Was his sleep always like this? Or were you the one who casted this serene spell upon him?
The muscles of his abdomen flinched as you brushed the cloth on his skin, and the slightest of movements accompanied a familiar hum when you went to work on his lower half. It was not long before his big hand reached for your wrist, and you looked up to meet with a dark gaze. His face showed a pattern of black and white lines, bits of light entering through the small openings in the loose blinds of the window. His expression was lightly stony but it did not scare you off, as you had thought it would. If anything, there was something in the way his no-nonsense attitude that attracted you, perhaps because he was a man unlike any other you had ever met before.
"Come here." The directive was blunt, but the gentle tug of his hand at your wrist told you that he meant no harm. Tossing the towelette in a corner you did not care to see, you let him pull you to him. He captured your arm and you climbed to bed on all fours, smiling innocently as he cupped your face and crashed your lips against his. "You little minx, you enjoy watching me suffer, don't you?"
It was impossible for you to hold back a hearty giggle at that, and he squeezed a breast in retaliation while muffling a small laugh against the side of your neck. In response, you pecked his prickly cheek and pressed yourself against him, settling on enjoying the warmth he gave off. You had all night long; there was no need to rush and ruin the experience for you both tonight– the only one you would ever have. This would give you time to get accustomed to him, though you suspected you already might be. It was all but laughable to think like this at this point, when you had almost gone all the way with him.
Perhaps it was not about getting used to the presence of someone else, but finding the right one to open up with.
Sleep did not help much, as your anxiousness made you drift in between dreams and consciousness. It was only natural, after all, to be this restless when you were this close to be one with him. You believed that any other girl in your place would also feel this way. It was not fear– otherwise, you would not have made it this far– but it was hard to bear with the unpredictability of the moment and not knowing when he would make his next move.
Maybe sooner than you had expected.
On one occasion, you thought you had felt a hand sliding up your thigh and kisses on your neck but when the same hand slipped down, causing your eyes to dart open, you found him prying your legs apart to settle between them. For a moment, you did not know what was happening but could feel his flesh really close to you, pressing against your core, as he kissed and nipped your shoulders.
You were a bit scared, you would not deny it but, in spite of that, the way he touched you made you want to comply with his wishes as your legs wrapped around his waist and your breathings became more difficult.
You showered each other with caresses, thoroughly enjoying the foreplay with small smiles and sighs. Sometimes intimacy would felt awkward for you two, moreover when you tried to change positions and ended up tangled in the sheets, but would dismiss slipups with giggles and chuckles that would make you believe that sex could be fun and amusing– especially for him.
That was until there was a change of mood in the air; a marked tension that crushed your chest and made his eyes darken with newfound yearning. No more fooling around; no more teasing and no more games, they said and your mouth went dry at the determination they showed. His hands grasped your body and all you could think of doing was embracing him, throwing your arms around his neck as his hips met yours with urgency.
You were ready; you wanted all of him and you wanted it right now.
A whisper from his lips and a gasp from yours was all it took for you to finally realize what was transpiring. It finally hit you, when he slowly began to slide inside your body, stretching you beyond your limits, that it was happening; the tearing of your insides as your tight passage widened to accommodate and hug him. It was a dull pain, but not as terrible as you had thought it would be. It was not the terrible virginal sacrifice or the wave of excruciating pain in your inner thighs that would have you screaming and begging for mercy, and you felt relieved that it did not go like that.
Maybe your body was different; maybe he had been the right choice; maybe you just were ready to take things to another level; maybe you just were too damn horny to even care.
His movements were slow at first, almost probing and cautious but, in time, his pace picked up with the rhythm of his moans, and the burning in your crotch grew a little more painful as he filled you and your nails scratched his back. Biting your lower lip, you valiantly endured the loss of your innocence to him, taking as much of him as you could before letting a small groan out. The satisfaction of him being inside made up for the initial pain. He was with you, and that was all that mattered to you. Nobody said it was going to be perfect, but he had made sure to make it as enjoyable as possible for you.
The sensation of being filled by him for the first time was too much to bear, without going insane; it was wonderful; completing; foreign but long-awaited. Heart racing, and body out of control, you could only think of one word to define this moment as you submitted yourself to his defeating power.
Beauty; you had discovered what beauty really was. You discovered it in his arms.
His flesh being embraced by yours in the heat of the night offered more than satisfaction and relief, he realized. Your eyes refused to look at anything but his face and he found it easy to get lost in them– in their soothing warmness and burning lust.
Sam could not help but moan when your moist muscles closed in on his cock, the delightful tightness enveloping him, little by little. It had been so long since he could feel such sensual closeness, and seeing you writhing beneath him, as he slowly worked his way in, nearly sent him over the edge. He whispered dirty words in the darkness of your encounter, telling you how much he loved the feeling of your body squeezing him, clenching every inch of his being.
More sweat formed on your skins, in a desperate attempt to cool off the alarming scorching fever that had reached dangerous levels and was leading you to a state of complete delirium. Salty beads ran down his aquiline nose and strong neck as he made love to you, with desperate unrestraint, fiery eyes glued on your body as you raised your hips to meet his thrusts with vehemence of your own.
You gasped when another set of violent waves throbbed inside of you as he hooked one of your legs around his forearm, embracing your sweaty and trembling thigh. Then, he rested his hand on the mattress, so he would not crush you under his weight, and soon got on his knees, placing your backside on his thighs and holding your leg against his ripped shoulder. And just as you were wondering why your other leg was not receiving the same treatment, a free hand went down on you, fingers flicking against that spot between your legs that had you gasping and begging for release yet again.
Slapping sounds and moans of pleasure were all you could hear. The scent of wild and musky arousal was all you could smell. The vibrations of your souls in synch as they flew higher and higher in the frenzy of such sinful bliss was all you could feel– a bliss that would eventually come to an end with the rise of the Sun and the bitter solitude that would be left after he was gone.
You had no greater expectations apart from taking what he was willing to share with you, tonight. You were not expecting promises of everlasting love neither did you believe in them– well, had they come from him maybe you would have believed that and much more. You were not certain anymore, as your body convulsed, desperately trying to keep up with his demanding thrusts, feeling him enlarge inside of you as he gripped your hips and contorted his face in what seemed to be agony. Grabbing fistfuls of the sheets, you sensed the approach of your peak, abandoning yourself to the passionate heat of the moment before a comforting warmness filled you with completion.
It felt as liquid fire; like being in a state of total and supreme dissociation of body and soul. You were not the one you used to be before; something had changed in you and you knew it, when his emerald eyes gazed at you in the fog of and haziness of his sweet release. The manly pride in his eyes, dominating and enigmatic, was something you were sure you would never find again. You knew you would never be able to make love to another man without the reminiscence of your first lover lurking in your heart.
He roared in the ecstatic trance of body and mind, feeling every fiber of his being coming to life. This was a revelation to Sam. He had nearly forgotten what freedom truly felt like; what the meaning of being one was. And as your chests rose and fell, hot breaths fanning on each other's faces, he knew he had rediscovered eternity in your eyes– those lovely pools of wonderment and affection that had ensnared him that fateful night under the cold rain.
No attachments, right? He tried to remind himself this, again and again. However, it seemed impossible for him to live up to this empty promise as he could not help but feel that part of you was now his. Sam pondered about this as he watched you drift to a sweet dream, a ghost of a smile on your puffy lips. You looked so happy and satisfied, making soft sounds as you enjoyed the sensation of his weight over your weary body– a similar image he had pictured just moments ago. He heard you mutter a sleepy 'thanks' before you took off for Dreamville, leaving him to wonder just what he had done.
No use thinking of this right now. He would deal tomorrow with it. For now, he needed to catch some sleep before the complicated day that would follow. He just hoped you would understand the reason why your bed was empty when the morning came and he departed without a word.
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