Jo's POV – Making love
A/N: ok, guys, we're almost at the end of the story. It might take me a while to publish the next chapter but I'll do it, don't worry. This is another steaming hot chapter, I hope you'll like it. If you do, please review! That said, WARNING: this chapter contains graphic sex (from the beginning to the end)
87's breath had become ragged, and Jo could feel his cock twitch in her mouth. When she finally elicited a moan from him, her heart rose in triumph. He had been so silent the previous time – he was always so silent – but now it was as if he was melting between her lips. She loved it. And she loved that, though his hands were buried in her hair, he was not trying to guide her movements. So it was with a sense of light disappointment that she had to relinquish him when he pulled her up to bring her face-to-face with him. But then he breathed a desperate
"Need you" before kissing her violently, and it blew her mind.
Next, he was flipping her over, kneeling between her legs, grabbing the back of her knees, drawing her to him. Then he brushed a kiss on her soft brown curls before parting her with his fingers to taste her nub with his tongue. She bucked her hips and squealed, surprised at the intensity of the bolt of excitement that invested her. He was kissing her as if she could kiss him back, dragging his lips on her folds, circling her clit with his tongue, sending waves of pleasure through every nerve, across her belly, up to her lungs and down to the tips of her toes. Whimpering, Jo crossed her arms over her eyes, curled her legs around his head, unable to be still. It was too much and not enough at the same time. She wanted to come, but she also wanted him inside her, she wanted to kiss him, she wanted to hear him moan again.
As if he could read her mind, 87 moved up, kissed her navel, her breast, her neck, and finally her lips. God, I want him so much!
And that was precisely what she told him, moaning in his mouth while her hands trailed over his glorious back, his broad shoulders, his strong arms. His body just drove her crazy, she felt like a teenager full of hormones on her first crush.
Then he pulled up, knelt again between her legs and penetrated her with a slow, fluid movement. He was not stretching her walls as much as he had the first time, her body having adjusted to his – unprecedented – size, but her lips were hyper sensitive from the oral stimulation and it was as if she could feel every ridge of his erection as he drove into her. Their eyes were glued on each other and when he closed her thighs around his shaft, increasing the pressure to the point that it almost hurt, Jo gasped "Ah" and mewled "Oh my God!", throwing her head back to breathe but without ripping her eyes away from his. It was so strange, when they had had sex before, she had kept her eyes firmly shut almost all the time – as she was used to doing – but now, in the near complete darkness of the room, she was as if hypnotized, she couldn't do without his face, his expressions, and his gaze on her.
He loves me, he said that he loves me. God!
It seemed impossible, she couldn't believe it, and yet she couldn't help searching the truth in his eyes. She knew that during sex there was not much truth to be found there except passion and desire, but she just couldn't stop watching. Then he did something, something Brian had never done to her: he took her ankles, stretched her legs and, pressing them together, he put them over his left shoulder, brushed his palm over her left calf and kissed her scar. That was not passion, that was pure intimacy, acceptance, care. Jo was overwhelmed. A surge of emotion swept over her and she felt her eyes tingle as if she were about to weep.
Don't you dare cry during sex! There's no bigger turn-off for men!
But she need not worry about that for long because, when 87 started moving, she forgot at once about the tears which had been welling up in her eyes. At first he thrusted gently, carefully, picking up rhythm as he went on. Her legs, lifted up and pressed together as they were, heightened the friction, heat spreading through her and rippling up in delicate flames at each push. Her breath was becoming heavy and she was moaning from time to time with her teeth clenched, keenly aware of the noise she was making in the complete silence of the room.
Then he slid his right hand between her legs and palmed her mound, maintaining a steady pressure on her nub which intensified the waves of pleasure his pounding sent flowing all over her body. She was on fire, the pressure and the heat building up in her core, small fireworks going off deep inside her at every thrust and setting her skin alight. By now she was moaning loudly, mouth open and dry.
She licked her lips to wet them but it wasn't enough, she wanted his mouth, so she sat up with a whine and pulled 87's neck towards her. He released her legs and, cupping her face with one hand, kissed her avidly, letting out a husky growl.
When his right hand started to move, his thumb circling her clit, slowly at first, knowing what he was doing, Jo gasped and slumped down on the pillow again. He wasn't going to let her breathe, he wasn't going to back off. So she just gave up. She surrendered to his mastery, grateful for his knowledge of her body, for his ability to play her like a fine-tuned instrument.
God, I've always loved competence in a man.
Her breath came out in gasps, got trapped in her throat, and when it struck her vocal chords, it elicited a litany of moans and pleas:
"Oh God"
He was gathering pace, pounding deeper now that her legs were open and her knees bent.
"Oh my God"
Her clit was already throbbing under the increasing pressure of his thumb, and she felt as if it was digging deeper and deeper, as if it could join the pleasure that came from inside her
"Holy Jesus…. Ah… oh my God"
Then she was almost there, but not exactly, riding on the cliff, an almost panicky feeling that she'd never get really there, that it was not going to happen, but even if it didn't it happen, it was soooo good anyway, and yet it had to happen. She kept her breath for long seconds, suspended in anticipation … and in that precise moment 87 stopped pounding into her, he slid an arm under her ass, hooked his knees outside her legs, driving himself deeper and he bottomed out. Just once, then he stayed there, keeping an almost impossible pressure inside her while his thumb never abandoned his circling on her clit.
Her lungs welcomed a violent intake of air, like when you resurface after a dive underwater, and it was it, she was there, he had got her there. The orgasm radiating finally from her core was explosive, electrifying, all the cells of her body tightening and throbbing, and Jo could hear her own cries as if they were apart from herself. 87 staid completely still but firm, filling her, pressing on her, letting her body move of its own accord, flowing, thrashing, pulsating around him in the peak of pleasure. An incredibly long peak, fast as she'd been in reaching the climax, now she was enjoying the longest orgasm of her life.
And when her hips stopped heaving, when she was finally coming down from the apex, he started moving again, taking up where she had left off, a relentless rhythm which prolonged her orgasm beyond what she thought possible. Or brought her to a new climax, she didn't know which. What she knew was that she was mewling, gasping, chocking, running out breath, consumed by this feeling of melting, tightening and bursting at the same time.
Oh, God, Oh God, oooh God, oh my God, oh my GOD, oh MY GOD
Jo was barely aware of the sounds she was making, half of them just got stuck in her throat, others came out in incoherent sighs. She was gripping the bedsheets and 87 had to dig his fingers into her thighs to keep her steady. Her sounds became sharper, hoarser:
Fuck…. Jeeeesus….. Oh, mmm yes ….. Shit …. Holy God
Then she climaxed again or just reached a higher peak, she had no idea, one wave of pleasure washing over her, followed by another, and another, and another. When at long last she came down from the apex, 87 stopped moving – with considerable effort, she could tell it from the tension in his muscles – but he was finally letting her breathe. She was still muttering inconsequently
"Oh my God …. That was …. Fuck …. That was…. God…. Thank you…"
Have I really just thanked him for my orgasm? Oh Christ, I hope not.
That thought brought her abruptly back to her senses. She bit her lower lip and searched his eyes. He was kissing her neck and then moved to her mouth, meeting her stare: there was nothing but desire to be read in his look even though, for a fraction of a second, she thought to have glimpsed the fading flicker of a grin on his face. But she might have imagined it, because the following instant he was gluing his lips on hers, his eyes closed, his breath fast and shallow.
87 pulled himself up, keeping her in his arms then he slowly lied down on his back and watched her with dark, ravenous eyes. Jo mounted him and used her hand to slip him inside her again. He felt deeper in her, but, strange to say, she had had enough pleasure for the night. Now she wanted to focus on him, she wanted him to come. She began a slow rotation of her hips and elicited a throaty moan from him, a sound that reverberated up all over her skin. His blue eyes were glued on her, his hands cupped her breasts, his head flung back while his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. She loved the way her movements affected him, she loved that she was in charge, she loved that he did nothing to force her rhythm. He was in her power and he liked it. She held his hands and bent down on him, allowing him to kiss her breasts. She had noticed the way it seemed to drive him crazy and was rewarded by a bucking of his hips and his breath becoming shaky. He was already near the climax and Jo sped up her pace, rocking back and forth.
"Fuck", he shut his eyes and gripped her ass.
"Yes", he moaned and pulled her down, searching her lips, gasping in her mouth, pressing her against him while he quivered and shuddered.
God, if he hadn't already shagged me so thoroughly I would have come for the sheer pleasure of hearing these sounds from his mouth.
87 held her in his arms and kissed her for long, passionately, sweetly, lovingly, until his breath slowed down. His hands were tangled in her hair, he kissed her eyes, and lips, and cheeks then, gently, he turned slightly her face on the side and whispered in her ear:
"Thank you"
Shit
Jo burst out laughing, punched him jokingly on his chest and then hid her face in his arms. He embraced her firmly and, when she raised her head again and looked at his face, he was still smiling, a real, big smile.
Then she pulled up, they cleaned themselves, they drank some water. There was silence but it was not an awkward, uneasy silence: they were quiet because no words were needed. Jo felt her muscles limp, her body suffused with peace and she just couldn't stop smiling. When finally, she nestled in his arms, she said playfully:
"Ok, now we can sleep."
He nodded, grinning, then he took a deep breath and fell asleep at once.
Only one breath! Unbelievable!
