Tell Tale Heart [Pierre Gasly]

Chapter Sixteen

His hand wraps through my hair, twisting it around so he can grab it before pulling it lightly so my head is lifted up and I can see him entering me from behind, one leg bent as he hammers inside of me and I let out a moan at the sight alone, never mind the severe pleasure I'm receiving. One hand still in my hair while the other one grabs my hip as he slams into mine making me grip the sheets between my fingers just a little tighter. I watch as the muscles across his chest flutter and his eyes catch mine in the mirror, lust written clearly all over his face.

The light from the bedside table was the only thing lighting the room up and it was perfect to see the definition in his muscles as his grip switched from resting on my waist to up to my shoulder as he dictated the rhythm, although I'm pretty sure that I can also see sunlight coming in through the open curtain. Fuck it must be late. Before I can get distracted, as if sensing it, Pierre lets go of my hair. Leaning forward he kisses down my back as he keeps the pace that he knows is building the sort of pleasure and result he's searching for. Feeling his chest against my back is almost enough to make me collapse but once more he knows how to get what he wants, what I want and I screw my eyes shut as I let my head fall down, enjoying all the sensations that are building.

He brings one hand down, intertwining his fingers with mine as he lifts his head slightly towards my ear, his panting hot breath hitting my ear and making me shiver, tingles shooting down my spine from the sensation of the closeness, something I had never felt anything like before or had affected me like it was currently. "Don't stop looking," he whispers commandingly and I do as instructed, raising my head and eyes to meet his in the mirror as I feel his other hand wrap around my stomach, holding me to his chest in a way that is strangely intimate for a person I just met.

Then his hand dips down to that point between my legs and I squeeze my eyes shut as he gets to the most dense nerve centre in my body, the knot in my stomach growing with every torturously slow thrust and rub of his thumb. "Eyes up," he growls again and I manage to force my eyes open, letting the blue eyes see me entirely. My curly hair a crazy mess as it falls down the shoulder opposite where his eyes are currently watching me with great interest. My cheeks flushed a bright pink in stark contrast to my pale white, English winter skin but matching my lips which are reddened and swollen from the hundreds of kisses we have exchanged over the course of the evening. His eyes stay fixed on mine as he lowers his head to kiss my shoulder blade. Once. Twice. Three times. My toes curl as he increases the pace of his thrusts and from his finger, never breaking the rhythm or his gaze as my hand tightens tellingly around his while the other desperately grasps at the bed sheets.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I moan out, no other words coming to mind to describe the level of pleasure he has figured out how to give me in one night. He pushes me over the edge but stays constant, drawing out every last second of pleasure for me before straightening up himself and letting his head fall back, as he releases a moan and his thrusts become erratic once more. I find myself transfixed as he cums, the sight almost heavenly before we both fall to the sheets. An exhausted mess of moans and sweat, our bodies still intertwined as we look at each other with dazed smiles on our faces.

I wake up again, sweat beading on my forehead. The same fucking dream that had been almost haunting me for over a wee straight now. Every time it was just memories from that night that left me wide awake and my heart hammering against my chest. I had never been like this before with any boyfriends or crushes in the past. Never so consumed. Not just my waking moments consumed by thoughts of them but also my sleeping ones...like what was that?

The only conclusion I had come up with so far was not good. Not good at all.

I groan when I see that it's still 4:30 am. However, fortunately for me it was race day in Silverstone and I was staying in a hotel near enough to the track and I knew exactly what I needed to do right now. I needed to run. Thirty minutes later and I'm on the start-finish line and looking around with a smile on my face. The British summer was serving up some nice weather and today was no different with blue skies already forming and the sun showing its face as it had been rising since 3 am. No one else was at the track yet though, no early morning team runs or walks just yet as it was still a stupidly unsociable hour and yet it was the time I always found myself at the track.