Khent stops short, looking up. “Are you sure?”
I lean up on my elbows to look at him, and I see the unspoken part in his eyes. A moment of hesitation, in case I don’t actually want this and I’m just taken in by the moment.
But I want him to know I’m all in. I’m with him and I want this. I want to be mated to him.
Holding his gaze, I wet my fingers with the oil, and draw them down my leg. I curl my fingers inside my cunt, the slick oil mixing in. I was ready.
I watch his pupils darken and his nostrils flare as he breathes in my arousal.
I lean back against the glass of the window, watching as he oils up his heavy cock with a few slow tugs. Then he slips a finger inside me, down to the knuckle. I whine for more with every thrust, even as he adds one lubed finger after another.
Finally, he eases himself into me, little by little, stretching my cunt ever wider until it’s nearly too much.
“Fuck, Khent,” I gasp, “How much more of you is there?”
“Um, about halfway,” he mumbles after a moment. He pulled back an inch or so, and suddenly I was achingly empty.
“No,” I moan, no care for how needy I sound, how desperate I am to be fully sated. “A little more, come on just a bit further.”
I hook my legs around his waist, and sink ambitiously down to the base of his cock.
“Fuck,” he chokes, falling onto his forearms over me, pinning us to the window frame. I manage a grin through my wincing.
“This is not a competition,” he manages to say after a moment. He looks like he wants to say something else, but his response is to gently move into me again.
“Then you should fuck me better than I can myself,” I tease, trying to lift my hips into his again, but he stops me with a hand, holding me completely against the glass.
His large hand is braced against my stomach, holding me safe as he ruts into me, a finger poised just right to rub against my clit with each thrust, teasing me. Each movement, each sensation, pushed my pleasure a little further. He takes his time, nipping at my neck, rubbing my clit even harder till I’m shaking, my thighs are soaked and I’m about to beg for him to fuck me hard enough to make me pass out.
“Make me yours,” I moan, and those are the words that make him lose the last shred of gentleness he was holding onto. “Claim me, please.”
Every thrust pounds into me, and soon it’s enough to push me over the edge. My fingers grip his shoulders and my nails dig into his back. I come with a gasp, or maybe a cry– I can’t tell how loud I’m being anymore. All I know is as my back arches up with the feeling, my cunt squeezing around his cock as his body tenses.
I can feel his cock twitch before he comes, my cunt still pulsing with the aftershocks of my own orgasm. I feel the hot, seeping wave of his cum as he groans again, each spurt of it slowing his thrusts.
Between the waves of little tingles that reaches even to my toes and the feeling of his cum dripping out of me, I think I must pass out in his arms. The next time I blink, he has me curled up against him, draped over his body like my bones turned to jelly.
“I think I missed my floor’s roll call,” I mumble into his skin. I lean back just enough to give my thighs a once-over. Definitely messier than usual. I don’t know where I’m going to find enough paper towels to clean this up. “I don’t think I can show up looking like this anyway.”
I look at Khent, and he’s just giving me this utter look of tender love. My own expression softens, and my knee jerk need to say something cheeky again rises up.
But I don’t say anything. I push back on the need to shield my heart. I can be vulnerable with him.
I take his chin in my hand, giving him a quick kiss. I could taste myself on his tongue, that salty, bitter, almost imperceptibly sour touch. “I don’t know what words to use to tell you I love you. I don’t know anything I could say would actually do the emotion justice.”
“Just to hear you love me at all is enough for me,” he says, stroking my cheek. “My mate.”
Mate. I could get used to that.