I’d never not enjoyed myself with a woman before. What was the point of the act if the two of you didn’t have a good time?
But it had always just been that.
Just something to do, a way to temporarily feel good.
I’d never had it mean anything.
Being with Abigail, though, that meant something.
If it was going to happen, my intention for it had been for it to be something soft and sweet, a way to show her that not all men just took and took from her, that some—the right ones—wanted them to have a great experience too.
Whatever control I’d been holding onto snapped when we’d been in that elevator, though.
And the end result hadn’t been as slow and sweet and romantic as I’d meant it to be.
But it had still managed to be better than I’d ever dreamed.
And, apparently, good enough to make Abigail want more, get wet from just the brush of a fingertip across her stomach.
My thumb moved up, stroking over her clit as my fingers drifted down, making circles around the entrance to her pussy for a moment before slipping inside, feeling her walls tighten around them, wanting more.
“Take your shirt off for me, love,” I demanded, voice soft, rubbing my beard against the sensitive skin of her neck, a sensation that made another shiver move through her.
Her hands lifted, grabbing the hem of her shirt, and drawing it up.
I stepped back just far enough for her to pull it off and toss it as my gaze took in her bare skin.
She’d already started to fill back in a little bit. Her bones didn’t stick out of her skin grotesquely, speaking of all the times she’d needed sustenance but had been denied it. She had a long way to go to fill back in completely, but with my—and let’s face it, Dezi’s—help, she would get there.
My other hand slid up her stomach, teasing over the hardening buds of her nipples, working them until they were tight points as my fingers started to fuck her, slowly at first, but getting faster as her hips started to rock against me, as her eyes drifted half closed, and as her little whimpers started to get louder and louder.
“You want my cock, don’t you?” I asked with my lips touching her ear.
“Yes,” she moaned, her pussy squeezing my fingers in agreement.
“You want it like this?” I asked, rubbing my cock against her ass. “From behind? Watching me in the mirror as I fuck you?” A low chuckle escaped me before she could answer. “Your pussy wants that,” I told her as she squeezed me tighter still.
“Yes,” she said, rocking her hips harder against my touch. “Just like this,” she agreed.
I didn’t need more than that.
My free hand yanked her pants and panties down before fishing in my wallet for a condom.
“Touch your pussy for me,” I demanded softly as I withdrew my fingers. “Like this,” I added when she hesitated, grabbing her hand, and pressing her fingers against her clit.
I wasn’t an idiot.
No one had taught her about her pleasure when she’d been growing up. That dick of an ex-husband of hers only saw her as a womb to be filled. And I didn’t think a man who kept her captive like a toy gave a shit about teaching her how to make herself feel good.
So it didn’t surprise me that she needed a little direction, a little encouragement.
I made short work of getting the condom on, but made myself hold off, watching her as she figured out how she liked her clit to be worked.
Her little mewling noises went straight to my balls, making me feel damn near ready to burst as I watched her drive herself up.
“Cary?” she whimpered, eyes opening to meet mine in the mirror. “I need you,” she added, making desire kick me in the core. “Please,” she added, wiggling her ass against my erection.
“You can have my cock,” I agreed, grabbing it so I could tease it up her pussy. “But you have to keep touching your clit for me,” I told her. “Can you do that?” I added, pressing my cock against the entrance to her pussy, but refusing to slip inside until she agreed. “Can you?”
“Y-yes,” she agreed, wiggling her hips.
I got to watch the surprise and pleasure mingle across her features as I slammed inside, as I took her deep, feeling her walls clench around my cock, wanting more of the feel of me.
I didn’t have a whole hell of a lot of control then.
I placed a hand in the center of her back, pushing her forward until she braced herself with one hand on the counter. The other stayed between her thighs like I’d told her.
One of my hands grabbed the shoulder of her occupied hand, keeping that side of her from slamming forward as I started to fuck her.