Page 83 of All That Remains
He dragged the sweats further down to my ankles before pulling them off altogether. I panted as he lifted my foot and kissed the top of it. Then he kissed my ankle, making a slow trek up my calf towards the insides of my thighs, which I spread for him as far as they would go.
Every part of me tingled. My vision pulsed, fading and returning as I watched the dark head bob about between my legs.Please...I gasped, so softly he couldn't hear. His attention slipped past my cock again as he kissed my belly and dipped his tongue into my navel. That sent an unusual stir through my core and eventually my groin. I winced.
The inquisitive lips moved further, reacquainting themselves with my nipples in a languorous taste test. I rasped, helping him push my shirt above my pecs so he could freely take one into his mouth. The first few strokes of his tongue made me recoil in insufferable pleasure, the sensation reverberating to my desperate-to-be-touched cock. My toes curled. I felt the scratchy fabric of his clothes tickling my shaft, and the titillation was so acute I grinded up into him.
"No..." he whispered, demanding I hold still so he could prolong my torment. "I want youcrazyfor me..."
That was his intent. To drive me as close to the edge as possible without letting me indulge. I'd be trapped, teetering on the verge of gratification as he purposefully skirted the part of me that sought his attention the most. I couldn't help but admire the maddening ploy.
In a flash he crawled down from me, kneeling on the floor, snatching me to my feet as well. My shirt—his shirt—slid down over my belly as his mouth met my erect flesh, ever-so-faintly.Lips parted, they lazed about my length, edging me to death.
"Rome...please..." I begged, strength failing me.
His hands snaked up the back of my thighs in long, decisive strokes. Working me. Owning me. They slid up the underside ofmy cheeks, caressing my ass. I grabbed two fistfuls of his hair, skin prickling from the roots of my scalp to the soles of my feet. He seemed to meditate, worshipping my body. Revering it with tender, explorative strokes like unmined gold. I was so hard I thought my cock might split.Put it in your mouth, please. I tried to massage myself, but he dragged my hand away. I fell back onto the bed involuntarily, too weak to remain upright. That's when he had mercy and took me into his hand at last.
"Shut your eyes..." he demanded.
I lay back across the bed and slung an arm across my face. He stroked me languidly, firmly, like he had in my dream. Next there was the cool and swift application of lube and a bit of rubbing to spread it about.Ugh, yes, fuck yes.Fuck, yes. Don’t stop.I fucked his hand. Now his tongue, hot and moist, ran up the underside of my shaft to the clammy tip. I groaned and bent my legs at the knee, curling my toes.
He set my legs apart and crammed me into his mouth as far as I would go. When he gagged, he took it as a challenge and kept going. My back and feet arched as he scarfed me entirely, which was not an easy feat. I was ridiculously well endowed and had trouble finding anyone who knew what to do with me. His soft, blistering mouth stretched to accommodate me. Pretty pink lips encircling me for dear life.
As he withdrew again, he made an unabashed slurping sound. His tongue flicked against my tip, wiggling down into my hole as he tugged on me with his free hand. I came so hard the force drew me up off the mattress, then I collapsed, panting stridently. He stroked me until I was empty, oozing achily over his hand in warm spurts.
"Baby..." he whispered, lazily licking my tip and watching me with hooded eyes. I disintegrated, shrinking for air, throwing both arms over my face in humiliation. When I came to, he helped me take my shirt off and cleaned me with it.
***
I flipped over onto my belly, totally spent, but he wasn't done. Right away, he dragged me onto my side, reaching around to unhurriedly stroke my chest and nipples. Kissing my burning ear; refusing to let me be. I remembered this side of him all too well.
"I want you..." he uttered, sounding like a demented alternate universe version of himself. "I want you..." he half-groaned. "All." I nodded, at a loss for words, then lay on my stomach and shut my eyes.
He took his clothes off and lay beside me nude, pressing kisses down my spine and ass. He parted my cheeks and his tongue delved into my warmth, savoring it like he hadn't eaten that morning. Then he forced me over onto my back and kissed me, and I had the strange experience of tasting myself and not knowing how to process it.
The way he kissed me since we reunited was like he was trying to take all my breath. And when I grew weak, he caught me up against him and always kept going until I lay rasping for air.The noises he made let me know he was kissing me witheverythinghe was. Insatiable, unabashed—toxic, violent hunger. Wresting all of me. Nothing had changed, except he wanted memorenow. I sensed in his touch adesperation, one calibrated by shame and a need to be guarded; yet his affection won out in the end and for me he washysterical.
I was beginning to fade. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. Nothing was visible. I could onlyfeel. Feel him slipping a few lubed fingers inside me while he sucked my taut nipples. Felt his fingertips flicking a switch deep within me that renewed my erection within seconds; twice as potent as before.
All I could think was that he had brought me here, to his bed, his sanctuary; back into his heart. What should have been theirbed was nowours, like every other bed he'd had since we met. She would lay down later and have no idea I'd been there. She would have no idea that when she touched him—tasted him—she was in fact tasting me. That when she looked athim,she was really staring down the years atme,for he and I were one.
His fingers stroked me so deftly I was rock-hard, beginning to leak all over his fist which fondled me with a disquieting skill. He pressured nerve endings deep within, making me moan convulsively. I could barely catch my breath for exhaling in what I could only describe assavage pleasure. As he dragged his fingers from within me, tugging relentlessly with his other hand, I came again; twice as hard as the first time. He smiled, pleased with how easily he could milk me.
As I scooted, quaking and defenseless, to the head of the bed, he assisted me because I was too weak to bear my own weight. Then he grabbed a pillow and set it under my hips to prop them up. I covered my eyes with my arm, shuddering with anticipation.
He settled between my legs with a grunt and asked me if I was alright. I nodded. He shuffled around a bit, situating himself. I bit my knuckles, eyes rolling into the back of my head as I absorbed every part of him—the pressure, the weight, the texture of the sheets, the sounds he made. He pulled my hand away and set his lips to mine with a moan.
"Hurry," I uttered. He grabbed more lube and I could hear the cap snap open and shut. I flinched when he jammed a few wet fingers inside without warning. He liked when we could be face-to-face so he could watch how responsive I was. As he slid inside, I peered out from beneath my tremulous arm. He locked eyes with me and refused to relent until his lids squeezed shut; overcome by a shudder.
"Babe…am I hurtin' you?" He must've seen me wince. "It's okay, baby...you can tell me. Tell me, baby…"
I shook my head; lying to please him.The pressure of his girth was so deeply sensual, so deeply rewarding, so deeplyrightthat I began to faint. My eyes rolled into the back of my skull and all I could perceive was the color that inhabited this sweet delirium. The hues of his touch, a spiritual energy that filtered throughout my body as he inhabited it.
He just hung there motionless, filling me, splitting me. Like an occupying foreign power. This was not love-making, it was possession. He was taking control, so much so that I needed his permission to move in any way.
"Babe..." he sighed. An incredulous exhale. An indictment, because I was destroying him as much as he was destroying me. When my vision cleared, we locked gazes and he pushed deeper. With a vigor to let me know who I belonged to.The pain was relentless, but I needed to let it unfold. I needed to bleed for him. It was ritualistic. For him I was fool, dog, slave. All things debasing.
He withdrew slightly, but somehow the easing of his pressure was punishment. I punched him in the chest, forcing him to slide back inside.
"Torture me...hurt me..." I gasped, blinded with tears.
