My vision is still tunneled, but now that little pinprick of light is focused entirely on what he’s doing to me.
Mouth open on a silent moan, I exhale heavily when he travels farther down, giving me little warning before his middle finger plunges inside me.
Again, I jump, but the pleasure radiating from my thighs has me pressing deeper into his chest.
“Do you think it’s hard to breathe because you can’t escape or because I’m inside you?” he croons in a hushed tone, his voice barely loud enough to hear through the waves roaring in my head.
As if to remind me where I am, another loud snore breaks through the silence. My stomach tightens as my attention begins to divide. But then he adds another finger and slowly begins to fuck me with them, bridging the divide and forcing my focus back onto him.
Only him.
I lose myself, my arousal embarrassingly audible as he pumps in and out. My breathing grows heavier, and I’m on the verge of no longer being quiet.
The arm holding me against him moves, his palm moving to my face, covering both my mouth and my nose as he attempts to keep me silent.
It takes only seconds for my brain to register that he’s cutting off my air supply. But he doesn’t stop finger-fucking me. Even goes as far as pressing the heel of his palm against my clit and rubbing firmly.
My eyes roll, and I feel the blood rushing to my face.
“Does it hurt, baby?” he asks quietly. “Not being able to scream for me like you want to.”
I pinch my eyes shut, an orgasm forming deep in the pit of my stomach. It feels like standing at the beach and watching the water retreat hundreds of feet. That looming unease plaguing you, knowing that when the water returns, it’ll come back with a vengeance.
This does hurt. Because I know when it’s over, I’ll be a fucking wreck.
“This little cunt is so fucking wet,” he continues, his accent deepening with desire. With my breathing silenced, the only thing that can be heard above the rough timbre of his voice is his fingers pumping into my soaking pussy. “Do you hear how pretty it sings for me? Why don’t you sing me a lullaby,bella? Let me hear it.”
He quickens his pace, continuing to rub against my clit. My chest pumps wildly, and I can feel my heartbeat in every inch of my body.
I’m torn between needing him to stop so I can breathe and praying to whomever will listen that it never ends.
“That’s it,” he encourages, sensing how close I am by the way I start bucking against him. “I want you to come on my fingers now,bella.”
Fuck him. I won’t come on demand. He doesn’t get to control my body like that.
But then he leans down and clamps his teeth right below my ear, sucking harshly as he curls his fingers just right.
My knees collapse as the orgasm tears through me without permission, seizing my body in a cyclone that’s just as devastating as I feared.
He moves his hand down just enough to uncover my nose, and I instinctively suck in a deep breath, the rush of air heightening my delirium.
I convulse against him, and he’s forced to slide his hand from my shorts and wrap himself around me, attempting to keep me both still and silent.
If Sylvester wakes, I wouldn’t know it. Don’t know if I’d care, either.
I'm too wrapped up in the stars, and up here, I'm fearless.
Eventually, I come down, my head fuzzy and legs weak.
“You're so easy to break,” he murmurs darkly.
Immediately, what just happened smacks me upside the head.
I go to step away, feeling ashamed for reasons I can’t name, but he's gripping my bicep tightly, pulling me back into him. I cringe when I feel how wet my arm is.
Because his fucking hand is soaked, and he hasn’t bothered to wipe it clean.
“Did your lullaby rock him to sleep, baby?”