First Ink

Chapter 7

Addison
I feel stretched. Filled. Like I don't want to move, the pleasure of having Rush inside me is so great. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, bite at his lower lip, play tongue war as his fingers press into my ass with every slow yet deep thrust. I've completely forgotten where I am, where we are. It's just empty space, air to breathe while we fuck each other like rabbits.
He groans against my mouth, holding us tight together as he grinds his hips into me, circling, then driving upward again. My breasts bounce with each thrust, and my pelvis is completely slick with moisture. It's running down both our thighs, and I love that. Just like I love hearing him move, the slap of him against me. It's so primal, so uninhibited. Neither one of us is trying to hide our need, our desperation for each other. It's obvious in every guttural thrust, every drop of pre-come inside of me, every suck of my tongue into his mouth.
I rake my hands down his neck to his shoulders. God, his skin is so hot, so hard with lean muscle. I wish I could feel the artwork beneath my fingers as he drives into me.
"Addison," he rasps against my hungry mouth. "Tell me..."
"What?" I mumble nearly incoherently. "Anything."
"Tell me why you came back? Why?"
I groan. He's so deep inside of me now my walls are contracting around him. Much more of this and I'm going to come. "You know why!" I cry out.
"For forgiveness?" His fingers brush over the seam of my ass.
I can only nod. My breath is stalled inside my lungs and my heart is slamming against my chest. Oh, god...is he? Is he going to touch me there?
"Damn, woman." He eases his fingers lower, drenches them with my cream, then returns to my ass. "It's done. Okay, Ads? It's over. You have it. No more of this bullshit."
Slowly, he enters me with one wet finger. "Oh, fuck, you're tight. Around my cock and around my finger."
I cry out. It's too much. Pressure and pleasure and memories. This was something only we shared. I loved it. I loved him.
He moves us. Somewhere. A wall, I think. He presses back against it and bears down on me, fucking me so hard I scream, all the while using his finger in slow, gentle strokes. The combination is my downfall. I cling to him, my eyes clenched tight. I'm shaking, convulsing, writhing, a wave of dizziness coming over me. And yet, I can't stop. I buck against him, moaning that I need more, I need all of him.
"Oh yeah, that's it, baby," he snarls close to my ear. "Your pussy's fisting me, milking me."
My nails dig into his shoulders as I feel him jerk and grow impossibly bigger inside of me. I gasp, shove my hips forward. I can't get close enough. His finger presses deeper into my rear and his thrusts go hard, fast and deep, hitting that spot in me that sends my flying. And I'm off, gone. Shattered. Crying out my climax, my eyes flood with tears. Waves upon waves of intense heat lash over me as Rush continues to fuck me, using my orgasm to send him into his.
"Oh, Addison," he groans, thrusting fiercely into me, chasing his high. "My Ads."
I feel the hot rush of his come bathe my walls, and I grip him even tighter, hold him even closer as he eases his finger out of me and satisfies my last clenches of orgasm with four deep, yet slow thrusts into my sex. God, this is right. This is it. How it's supposed to be. Finally, he slows, drops his head back against the wall and wraps his arms around my waist, locking me in.
"Fuck, Ads," he breathes.
"I know," I say, dragging my tear-stained face across his shoulder. "I know."
Without another word, he pushes away from the wall and heads out of the kitchen. Sweat clings to us both as he carries me down the long hallway. I know where we're going. I saw it on my tour. His bedroom. It's big and modern and right now that's all I can register or care about because when we enter, he goes straight for the bed and lays me down, oh-so gently, on my side. No lights are on, but the moon's magnificent glow streams in through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The sheets feel cool and soft against my skin, but they're nothing compared to the hot, hard body that tucks in behind me.
For a good five minutes, or maybe it's an hour, I don't know or care, we just lie together like sweaty spoons. I stare out the window to the landscape in the distance and let myself acknowledge the perfection in the moment. Coming to Las Vegas, I hadn't even dreamed I'd get to share this again with Rush.
I close my eyes and try to calm my breathing. Tomorrow I'm supposed to go back, to home and school. I have a paper due on Monday...
"What are you doing?" Rush whispers against my neck.
I shiver. "I don't know." Thinking. Trying not to think. "I could easily fall asleep."
He groans softly. "Shit, me too. But, baby, there's not going to be any sleeping tonight."
I feel his cock, hard and ready against the curve of my butt. My back arches automatically. "You want me to stay?"
He's quiet for a second, and I wish I had a super power that allowed me to hear the thoughts of others. Or maybe just one other.
"Addison," he says finally. "I have you in my bed. You're not going anywhere. Not tonight, not..."
He stops himself. And I panic. The last thing in the world I want is for this moment to go south, and if he starts overthinking, that's exactly where we're headed. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. Tonight, we're going to kiss, and lick each other, and laugh, and fuck. That's it.
I roll to my belly and give him a seductive smile. "I'm very open to being your prisoner."
His eyes instantly darken. "How open?"
As he watches, a grin pulling at his mouth, I come up on all fours. "How's this?"
He groans. He's so gorgeous and so completely captivating, I could stare at him for days without a break. No food, no water. Just Rush.
"Damn, Ads," he practically growls. "That sweet ass kills me."
As he slips a hand beneath me and plays gently, erotically with my nipple, I close my eyes and sigh. It's done. I'm done. Forever. I swear, to whoever is up there directing traffic, this guy owns me. My heart, my body, every cell.
My pussy stirs with heat, and I squirm, wanting him again. Just the thought of him entering me, inch by steely inch, makes hot shards of pleasure rip through my sex.
My eyes open. His hand is gone from my breast, and he's behind me now, his fingers working the tape from between my shoulder blades.
"What are you doing?" I say, glancing over my shoulder.
"Taking off the bandage." He's flush against me now, the thick shaft of his cock moving tantalizingly between my sensitive flesh as he works. "It's been two hours."
Two hours? I feel a pang of anxiety, like time is moving too fast. Tomorrow's coming too quickly. "How is it?"
He sucks air between his teeth and his eyes lift to mine. "Perfect."
"Can I see it?" I feel the hard, wet pressure of his cock against my opening.
His eyes still locked to mine, he shakes his head. "Not yet," he says, sinking into me with a groan. "Not yet."