Page 137 of The Wrong Man
An obscene noise escapes me. I’m pretty sure it can only be described as a mewl. I should be mortified. But I’m too busy panting because he is kissing my cock again. A feather-light kiss.
I writhe and gasp as he peppers my cock with kisses.
His hand slides up. He cups my balls. Fondles them with a gentle caress. I grunt. My hips buck. Stars explode. Fuck, I nearly shot my load.
Dante chuckles, low and deep, and his breath huffs over my throbbing cock, and forces another shameful noise from me.
His hand moves to my inner thigh. He nudges gently and my legs spread for him. Eagerly. Wantonly.
His head lowers. Warm wet heat laps at my hole. My fingers clutch at the sheets beneath me. A gurgling sound sticks in my throat.
Oh lord. I’m going to cum harder than anyone has ever cum in the history of humanity. It’s going to be in the Guinness Book of Records, if they have a sex section, which I feel they should definitely have.
His tongue laps over my hole again. I yell. I swear if I opened my eyes I would now have the power to see sound. Dante has sent me to an entirely new realm of existence. Just with the power of pleasure and the things his tongue can do.
He licks again, and I whine and buck.
“I want you!” I gasp. “I want all of you. Inside me.”
It’s true. I had no idea I was going to say that, but now I have heard myself speaking those words, I realize how very true they are. I want Dante’s cock deep inside me. Rearranging my guts and making me scream his name.
I’ve had more sex these last three weeks than the rest of my life combined. But it seems the more I have, the more I want. Dante’s cock is addictive, it’s turning me into a proper little sex fiend and I have zero regrets.
Dante sits up. For a moment I regret having the power of speech because causing him to stop what he was doing is a tragedy. But then he grabs the lube from the bedside table, and arousal spikes through me so intensely that I can’t breathe.
I watch as Dante coats two of his fingers. I blink and my eyes refocus on his naked chest. When did he undress? I have no recollection of that. But I’m very happy it has happened.
Dante moves, and his slick fingers brush over my hole. My eyes flutter closed. Then my mind floats. It soars as waves of pleasure wash over me.
Dante diligently stretches and opens me. Applying the same careful attention that he applies to everything. I don’t know why it is so hot, but it is.
His fingers leave me. I open my eyes. I watch, heavy-lidded, as Dante rolls a condom down his length. It really is a lovely cock. A good length, a satisfying length. But it’s the girth that’s impressive. Mightily impressive.
Our eyes meet. His eyes are dark. Gleaming with lust, desire, and love.
I gulp. My heart cartwheels and my stomach flutters.
He leans over me and I stare up at him, our gazes are locked together. Intense. Intimate. Wonderful.
Slowly, carefully, he pushes into me. Pleasure blooms. Sensations spark. My eyes never leave his.
I watch as his features are shaped by ecstasy. His pupils blow even wider. I can see all of him. The strong, quiet man who loves deeply and completely. The man who stoically did everything that was expected of him. I see his darkness. I see his light. I see Dante.
His hips rock. Slow, tender, deep thrusts.
He isn’t fucking me. He is making love to me. Treating me as something precious. Because I’m his. Because he cherishes me.
My muscles begin to quiver. My orgasm is so close.
I can tell Dante’s is too. But I’ve learned that he never lets himself cum first. He always ensures I find my peak before him.
He rocks into me. In and out. Slide and drag. I’m stretched and full, and he’s gazing down at me as if I’m a star he’s somehow caught from the night sky and he can’t believe miracles are real.
My head falls back, my muscles clench. My cock spurts. I scream “Dante!” as my orgasm explodes through me with the force of a supernova.
As soon as I say his name, he is right there with me. Shuddering and moaning through his own orgasm.
We collapse into a sweaty heap of tangled limbs.
