Page 33 of Resist
No judgment, again. But a small voice in the back of my mind wonders who hurt her so badly that she doesn’t let anyone in. Sating my own curiosity isn’t enough of a reason to make her feel uncomfortable with wholly inappropriate personal questions.
Did she have an ex that broke her heart? Who made her retract into her shell and batten down the hatches to protect her from getting hurt?
When I feel her stare scorching my face, I meet her intensely beautiful blue-green eyes. “I can be whatever you need me to be, Cecelia.” And I mean it.
The fact that she’s letting me into her castle walls enough to let me pleasure her is a big fucking deal and an honor I don’t take lightly. If all she wants is a Sunday afternoon orgasm and to share snacks with me then that’s what we’ll do.
She stares at my crotch, then my face, then my crotch again. “I want to ride your cock.”
Hearing those words fall from her lipstick-free mouth drives a shot of lust into my dick, making me rock hard and ready. I lift my hips, pull my sweats and underwear down to my knees and fist my already weeping cock. “Yes, ma’am.”
CHAPTER 11
Cora
The lustin his eyes makes me weak at my knees. I’m standing in front of him wearing a pair of leggings and an oversized U of M hoody, yet he looks at me with the same desperate, unhinged hunger he stared at me with on Friday night when I had an easy access catsuit on my body, hugging every lump and bump of my plus-sized body.
It’s the most casual of outfits I own, but the look on his face, the way his stare rakes down my legs as I step out of my yoga pants is addicting... encouraging.
His fist travels the length of his uncut cock as he watches me, silently taking me in while I tug my sweatshirt over my head and drop it to the floor on top of the leggings.
He hisses out a slow and audible breath when he sees my tank top. No bra, so the pebbled nipples trying to poke through the fabric aren’t lost on him either.
He licks his lips as he rolls a condom onto his angry, veiny cock.
When he’s done, I straddle him, but instead of sinking onto his dick, I simply graze the tip, brushing it through mywet pussy. “You’re the first uncircumcised man I’ve been with.”
“Circumcision removes up to half the skin on a penis—so you’re at higher risk of losing “fine-touch neuroreceptors.”
I brush against the tip again, and he shivers. “They say an uncut cock has a glossier, more velvety feel to it. And there are studies to suggest that women with circumcised spouses were twice as likely to report dissatisfaction in the sack than those who haven’t had the snip.”
“You’ve done your homework.”
“I thought about getting circumcized as a grownup.” He shrugs. “Decided against it.”
I slide his cock through my pussy again. The strangled moan at the back of his throat almost makes me giggle. The pained torture from him as he grips the back of the couch with both hands, arms outstretched, seemingly in a casual stance. The more I roll my hips, the more his fingers dig into my sofa. His pose isn’t casual, it’s to stop himself from reaching out and touching me without my consenting first.
I grip the back of his hair with my fist and tug his head back, driving my nose into his neck and taking a lungful of his scent. “We didn’t discuss hard limits.”
His jaw flexes. “I haven’t found any yet.”
“Biting?”
He nods.
“Hickies?”
He nods again, so I sink my teeth into the supple flesh where his shoulder and neck meet. The harder I bite, sucking his tender skin into my mouth, the tenser his body gets. In my periphery, his arm lifts, like he wants to touch me, either to stop me or spur me on, but he resists.
After a beat, I sit back and admire my work. A perfect bite mark adorns his skin, and a ripple of satisfaction passes through my body. “Nice.”
He smiles, like he enjoys the praise. “I just sat here.”
“And I’m very grateful you did.” I drag both my hands through his hair, my nails scratching his scalp. “So obedient.”
The noise that comes from him is close to a purring sound, a contented, sated noise that tells me he enjoys it. And if his noises didn’t, the fact that his head tips back, leaning into my hold and his eyelids flicker closed would.
It’s been so long since I’ve had a human play thing that I forget what I like, what they like, how to interact with a warm-blooded person who wants to enjoy themselves with me.