Crescendo

Chapter 23

My nails grazed Daniel's back, leaving my mark on an otherwise perfect canvas. I would have mourned the perfection if I hadn't been busy spreading my legs and cursing the narrow couch. Manufacturers did not design modern loveseats with lovemaking in mind. I was convinced.

He chuckled under his breath, burying his face in the crook of my neck before placing kisses along my collarbone. I whimpered, not accustomed to the length of his cock, sliding against my slick walls, stretching them.

"You're doing so well," he said, praising me. His breath was coated with lust. I lifted my hips, giving him further access. He groaned as he leaned down, wrapping his hand in mine and holding me steady. I didn't know what to expect after years of fantasizing about him. Reality could never match my delusional, sex-starved mind. But when he didn't bottom out after seconds of waiting, my eyes widened.

His hips collided with mine, finally, and I leaked around him, releasing a breath. "Jesus," I said, holding back a swear. How had I not noticed before? "You're..."

I wanted to say "massive," but I was afraid of becoming a cliché I had fought to avoid in my books. Choking on his dick in a parking lot was bad enough. Not to mention my virginal shock at his size.

"Yeah," he smiled against me, not hiding his pride even when out of view. "So I've been told." I melted into the sofa. Heat rose to my cheeks and burned through my senses. Daniel had gone from being a pest to the first man to fuck me. The change was sudden, all because of a deal struck out of desperation. But was it too good to be true?

"Nobody's going to show up and start taking pictures, right?" I asked, half-joking, but fear had crept into my mind.

Daniel chuckled, unconcerned by my questioning. "Not unless you're into that, darling."

I realized how ridiculous I was being. "Are you?" My lips curved into a smile. The prodigy would be an exhibitionist, wouldn't he? Maybe as much as a sex writer would be expected to be a horizontal-tango-savant.

Daniel shook his head, and dark hair fell over his forehead. "Why would I let anybody but me see you like this?" he asked, meeting my eyes. My heart fluttered in response. I didn't want to point out that anybody who read the gossip magazines had already seen my lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him dry.

Everyone saw it. Stress pooled at the forefront of my mind.

"Right," I said, letting him tangle his fingers in my hair, pulling slightly, lifting my chin, and kissing my neck.

"You can relax," he said.

I thought I was. Letting go of control wasn't the easiest thing to do. Not for me, at least. But when he pulled out, only to slam into me in the same breath, static sprang up from between my legs and traveled over my thighs.

I was dumbstruck by his touch and how my body molded to his.

As his thrusts became longer–fuller, pressing against me and smacking my clit. I trembled, attempting to ignore the impending orgasm he was steadily building to. He reached beneath my leg and rubbed my clit. I tried to move away, lessening the friction between us, but it was no use.

Daniel had me held in place as he fucked my dripping pussy.

"I–" My lips parted, but I was unsure what I wanted.

Stop?

More?

I couldn't decide. But one thing was certain: Daniel was a good person to go to for sex-writing advice. He knew what he was doing. I bit the inside of my cheek, enticed by the sharp pain it brought me. Oh shit. Am I into that? I was discovering new things about myself that I hadn't thought possible before I met him.

"Fuck," he said, his breath hot next to my ear. "I don't know how much longer–"

I stopped his statement with a kiss, permitting him to finish. He pulled out, leaving my pussy twitching around nothing, while ropes of cum splattered over my thighs.

He held his weight, refusing to crush me. After a few seconds of silence, he regained his energy and kissed my cheek. "Okay," he said, sucking in a deep breath. "Now, you."