He'd never seen Helga's eyes blow so wide in his life, and was sure he caught the very moment his confession caused her brain to fritz.
In the thundering heartbeats that followed swelled an unmistakable sense of threat, which grew the longer she sat with that stunned, uncomprehending stare, urging him to hurry up with the rest.
He swallowed.
Fuck, he was trembling.
"And—I'm not talking about sex," Arnold clarified, voice cracked and tight as that look of hers went unchanged."Or, me getting anything back."
Because even I'm not stupid or selfish enough to ask for that, he thought. Or dating, because you hate me and love someone else.
"You—wouldn't even have to do anything," he went on, face absolutely aflame as his furrowed gaze slipped to the floor when he caught the sight of her breath picking up, her stare finally changing, going hard.
Fuck.
"You could just, lay back," he added hoarsely, "and I'd—"
"Are you…" Helga interrupted, eyes burning through him with an incredulous, wild edge when he looked up; her voice unsteady and dangerously low, "...fucking pranking me, Football Head?"
Of course he'd anticipated her doubt when he planned this; her distrust. If she hadn't either laughed, or punched him out first, it was a given. Obviously.
And yet, exposed and flustered in the moment, he stared, shaking his head back at her in disbelief despite himself. He barely even registered that she'd called him by the old nickname he'd missed for the first time in months. She'd known him their whole lives, and…
He never gets like this.
Never says things like that.
And he doesn't prank people.
And, God dammit, Helga could laugh at how pathetically desperate it was to actually offer himself up to be sexually used, andby her, of all people. Humiliate him for it. Even yell at him, smack him and leave—all of the above.
But if there was one thing he absolutely couldn't stand, it was her leaving without even believing that he meant it.
"No," Arnold asserted, not letting up the heat in his eyes as they flared right back into hers, undaunted. "I'm serious."
Something shifted across her features in the pause that followed that he couldn't place as she shook her head with scorn, unconvinced. Her eyes speared him as they narrowed, breath uneven, and she was still on the edge of her seat, from outrage, he presumed, but…
She still hadn't shouted, hadn't hit him, or stormed out. Or laughed. Nonetheless.
The silence between them stretched like a tightrope about to snap; held only by a single remaining thread. Made, he suspected, from the scorching look of hopeless want he couldn't help but bare.
Christ. Just the fact that he couldn't help it, but that it still strained him to show. Visibly. Red-faced, fingers clenched, breathing roughly and he still couldn't stop trembling, and—fuck.
For all her jadedness, there was no way she could deny that he was a fucking mess. He'd been nervous in front of girls before, but. No one saw him like this.
No one else brought it out of him.
And, as much as Helga could brush him off, he was willing to bet it was that very fact that afforded him the rarity of her hesitance.
Arnold closed his eyes, took a deep, quavering breath, and reopened them, lids heavy and hooded.
"You have no idea how much I wanna do this, and will," he affirmed, voice low in his throat, "...if, you let me."
Another unreadable twitch went through her eyes.
They widened again as she twisted back in her seat, her chest rising on a tight inhale as she kept her guard. Helga shot him a sharp, warning gaze before it scattered across the features of his face, his shoulders, down the rest of him…Already stirred despite his nerves, he grew hard, warm. And still, breathless beneath her assessment; looking down as he braced for the moment of truth.
For the cruelty he knew he was asking for, one way or another.
He heard her reposition across from him, the crinkle of leather, but that was it.
When he finally lifted his eyes she didn't meet his, her gaze hovering distantly around his throat. He gulped reflexively. She'd re-crossed her arms and legs, her lips were pursed in a tight, negative line, like biting something back, and her cheeks, were…darkened.
Pink.
He hadn't even realized he was shifting slowly forward in his chair until she bristled, pulling incrementally back.
Clearing his throat, Arnold averted his gaze to the frayed carpet. Elbows to his knees, he leaned his weight to the side; away from her, as he admonished his cock and himself.
Idiot.
She's probably just beside herself because this is so vulgar and just…
Fucked up.
His eyes clenched shut, girding himself to say the rest.
…Yeah.
"And, of course," he continued, speaking low; quiet. "Door's right there if you don't want it, it's only locked from the inside. You can just walk out, and after today, you won't have to—" he swallowed thickly, voice thinning, "deal with me anymore. So…"
Pulse thumping in his ears and chest tight, Arnold nodded to himself in resignation.
He'd been too far gone to not take it, but he'd known there was only an off-chance this plan would work.
He'd known her practically his whole life. She'd given him thousands of taunts, threats, and spitballs—and his first and second kiss, a fact he hastily denied when Gerald teased him about it.
'Those don't count, they were scripted.'
Most times, he was the person who'd sit by someone and say, 'I get it.'
But she'd been one of the few who could just sit by his side, and get him.
And he'd never…appreciated that, as properly as he should. And he couldn't help but feel that he'd had so many missed opportunities with her, that he hadn't looked at, didn't want to look at, and—
There was no way he could pass up a shot to have her in any way he could. And since friendship and romance were clearly off the table, he'd have settled on scraps; serving her sexually while neglecting his own needs, and self-respect. Even if it were a one-time thing. Even if it hurt.
He knew either way it would hurt.
But he'd take her no, and any fire she'd throw back at him for this in private, or even in public.
Still.
He was so sure that even if she flat-out rejected his offer she'd at least find it hilariously pathetic, coming from him—but even that turned out to be wrong. He didn't anticipate her non-reaction, her silence. But, their time was nigh, and any minute, he fully expected her to finally just stand up, smack him, and leave.
And that'd be it.
When the silence dragged with no response, he was sure of it.
A swift inhale and the shift of fabric, followed by the pronounced thud of a boot hitting the floor, twisted his stomach in knots. But when another moment passed and nothing happened, he grimaced.
His eyes opened, widening as they traveled up her body.
Gaze shadowed and downcast under her furrowed brow, Helga bit her bottom lip in a frown.
But her face, pinked before, was completely flushed.
Shoulders raised as she arched back in the chair and gripped its sides, he watched, jaw dropping, as the layered mass of her tulle skirt pulled wide between her knees as they parted.
There was no helping the sound of his rushing breath if he tried.
Panting on the spot, Arnold stared with astonished longing as Helga spread her legs, grasped the fabric at her thighs as she hitched her breath…
And slowly lifted the layers of her skirt.
He didn't even notice he'd slid off his chair until he dropped to his knees.
Oh sweet fucking Jesus.
For a moment Arnold could do no more than harden and reel on the spot as his head spun in a feverish haze.
The movements were automatic, mindless as he tore off his flannel. His chest, neck, face—even his arms felt hot, breaking out in a sweat all over. His heart leapt as he watched her flushed face like a mirage, breathlessly, like he couldn't believe this was real. But it was, and—oh my God.
Helga. Goddamn.
Arnold tied the flannel around his waist without even looking down, sleeves obscuring the bulge that strained tight in his jeans. He adjusted, but had no plans to jerk himself off in front of her, despite its gnawing want. She hadn't agreed to it, and he wouldn't impose. Just getting to do this, her letting him do it, was just—
There were no words.
…
But, speaking of…
She hadn't said anything herself.
He paused after sliding his knee forward; close enough to touch her if he bent over and kneeled on all fours. Even when he approached, she refused to meet his eyes.
Scanning her face for tells beyond her heated blush, that frown of hers still creased her brow, gaze cast down and away. But, there was no mockery to her features, or what he could spot as disgust.
And, she was trembling, like him…was that from anticipation, too?
The thought fueled a rush in him, tingling with excited pinpricks at the slight squirm of her hips creaking the chair, the way her calves tensed as she flexed her boots to her toes, legs opening even further.
Arnold licked his lips.
Then bit them shut, stalling to try and think—which was, at that moment, rather hard. But something told him he had to.
No…why won't she talk? Why does she look like that?
A few thoughts cycled through.
His last two girlfriends had been nervous.
'What if you don't like it?'
But…no.
Why would Helga care whether he liked it or not?
Was it embarrassment? Did it wound her pride to accept head from him? He could see that.
…No, wait. Of course, he scowled, a swarm of jealousy filling him when he remembered the obvious.
It was because of that guy.
It sobered him a bit, being acutely reminded that they'd, of course, be bringing their own respective heartbreaks into this, under the surface.
Their own form of settling.
Nonetheless, when she did finally meet his eyes, flustered yet guarded and unreadable, he still couldn't hide how badly he wanted her when he looked back. But he doubted she'd see it as anything more than lust.
"It's okay, if you don't want to talk," he reassured in a scratched voice, eyes softening.
Maybe it was just easier on her if she didn't.
"But, I'm…still gonna check in with you, okay? And remember," he added, swallowing, "there's no pressure to do this…"
Her eyes narrowed for a moment, brow pinching with something he still couldn't read as she slowly clenched the tulle fabric inside a closing fist. With an irritable flash of teeth, she looked away again with a deepening blush and tugged up her skirt with impatience.
Arnold let out an involuntary gasp, gnawing his lip.
…Fuck.
Yes, ma'am.
Time slowed as he dragged a knee across the carpet. Then the other, that heat inside him reignited; so much that the skin on his face, his throat and collar grew tight.
Even so, he felt somehow out of his own body. He couldn't believe this was actually happening; that he'd really stopped before her, looking up as he kneeled between her open legs.
Helga turned her cheek, but she was watching him, eyes heavy-lidded to slits. Trying to keep her composure, but clearly hot and bothered, a sheen on her skin in the filtered afternoon light—and he was making her feel like that, and—God.
She really was, just…so gorgeous...
His shoulders moved as he panted, lungs laboring around the feeling that ached in his chest and the nervous, desperate anticipation that shook through him.
On the very edge of what he'd sensed building up since the incident—hell, even before that, he felt not unlike a male praying mantis taking the plunge at a female's mercy, his fate unknown and disposable…and not even caring.
He wanted her enough to ruin himself, and had every intent to make it worth her while.
In a surreal, breathless moment, Arnold traced trembling fingers across the leather ankle of her boot; then up.
He swore he felt a spark between them when he brushed her skin. Sliding his palm around the curve of her calf, he caught her shivering gooseflesh; the breathy sound she made when he gripped her.
Oh…
Emboldened, his hand smoothed up to knead the underside of her thigh before gliding his fingertips back to trace the sensitive area behind her knee, drawing the tilt of her hips as he teased.
…Wow.
Marveling at just how…responsive she was, wound up despite her restraint, there was nothing more he wanted in that moment than to make her unravel completely.
And…God.
Helga was such a harsh girl, you'd never think if you got your hands on her that she'd be soft all over.
He exhaled shakily, turning his hand to graze his knuckles down her calf...
So soft.
Flushed, tight-throated and starting low, Arnold swept his hands up her shins, over her knees, then slowed as they circled around her thighs, eyes lifting up at her light, shaken gasp as they slipped under her skirt. Rubbing his thumbs where he felt her muscles tense, he watched her face hesitantly, reddened as she looked away, but she jutted her chin at him to keep going.
God.
Roasting in a haze, the airy texture of her pink, feminine tulle floated over his wrists, his forearms as he pushed the fabric up, inch by inch, until he'd revealed her slender legs, leaving the bottom layers to pool modestly over her lap as she squirmed in her seat, drawing his eyes there. He quaked, cock hard and twitching.
Not yet.
"If, at any point, you want me to stop, tell me, or—push me off, and I will… Otherwise…"
Arnold trailed off, figuring the way he squeezed her outer thighs said it well enough.
"Also," his voice dropped, "like I already said, the door's locked from the inside. So, don't worry," he reassured with a look that fanned her breath when she peered down at him through her lashes. "We've got plenty of time…"
They shared an unbroken, shuddering look in the wake of his words.
The temptation he felt as he hovered over the last remaining bit of skirt concealing her, the heart-racing knowledge that the simple pull of some fabric was all that separated him from having his mouth on her…steamed him up, panting between her thighs.
Instead, straining for self-control with his eyes on her, Arnold repositioned, holding her leg to him as he slid his burning cheek down the length of her thigh. And, brow furrowed, closed his eyes as he pressed his lips to her knee with all the deliberate tenderness of a first kiss.
He hoped achingly, despite himself, it'd be the first of many. Yet, as eager as he felt at the noise she made, he couldn't bring himself to rush.
What if this was the only time he ever got to touch her?
The thought swelled him up with emotions he couldn't speak, so he poured them into the way he yoked his arm around her calf as he seized her flesh in handfuls.
Into the way he lost himself dragging kisses across her leg, the gusts of his own breath fanning the heat blooming up his neck.
And into the way he licked up the salt of her skin as he mouthed a fevered path up her inner thigh.
As much as Helga tried to stifle her heavy breathing, clenching the sides of her chair, her leg jumped in his tightening grip, a cry breaking out her throat that had him smothering a moan as he sucked her there.
He did it again, driven by the reward of that sound, the way she stirred. Her short, whimpering gasps, edged with overwhelm, had his eyes meeting hers in a searing look that promised so much more as he sucked even higher.
His very skin felt buzzed, heart racing him hot and shivering all over.
And fuck. He was so… goddamn hard.
He nearly surrendered to eagerness, but pulled back, resting his sweaty forehead against her thigh to pant and gather himself. Go slow.
Make it last.
And, besides. Truth be told…
There was a part of him that wanted to work her up so badly she'd beg. Wanted her to want it as much as him.
Share his torture with her.
Fuck.
He shifted—Helga stepped onto his kneeling thigh for leverage as she arched in her chair; shivering when he gave a long, wet, lingering suck at the very top of her inner thigh that left her panting, right on the edge of the fabric…
Only to tear himself away to her other leg to give it the same treatment, starting at her calf.
Helga nearly growled, tossing her head back in fitful frustration. His hand came around to grip her hip in place as his chaste kisses grew feverish despite his attempt to pace. Indecent; sucking and biting up her thigh in a breathless, disheveled mess.
God…!
Her high, insistent whine sang right down to his cock as the texture of her tulle skirt grazed across his lips on his way up, and he couldn't take it anymore.
They shared a noise of eager relief when the remaining fabric was pushed away at last, followed by a groan caught in his throat, lips parting as he stared between her legs.
Her panties were fucking soaked, and there was no denying her burning want and shyness as she tilted her hips and looked away. His hands clenched around her thighs as he consciously denied his own need to rub and relieve his cock, weeping its own damp spot in his boxer briefs.
"Fuck, Helga…"
Arnold gave another grateful suck at her innermost thigh and a heated, heart-aching look that said everything with her turned away. And, shutting his eyes, pressed his lips to the center of that drenched spot in a yearning, tender kiss. He nearly moaned when he breathed her in through the fabric; the warm, heady smell of her filling him on a primordial level seldom reached, fogging up his mind.
…Fuck.
Her whimpering jumped to a squirming gasp as he gripped her hips and inhaled her so deeply his shoulders rose, drawing her soaked scent into himself with a hungry, lingering reverence; exhaling in earnest.
…Fuck.
He wanted to beat himself off over her so bad it hurt.
"God!" he exclaimed, burning up as he nearly wound himself in knots at his refusal to self-touch. "How do you smell so fucking good…?"
Arnold dragged his heavy-lidded eyes up to hers, Helga's expression a mix of hot, mortified skepticism as she twisted in his grasp. He shook his head at her disbelief.
He'd never known Helga to date, or even show real interest in someone until recently. But, he'd somehow missed she'd had feelings for…whoever that guy was, ('asshole,' echoed the thought) so he figured there was a lot more to her history he'd probably missed—despite any gossip or mockery he'd heard. He figured that if she agreed to this, she'd have had some experience before, with someone else.
He couldn't grasp the idea that Helga Pataki would ever give her first time—doing this—to him.
Either way, he was extra glad he'd started slow, and poured so much into his attentions. If she'd come away from a past encounter with any doubt in just how desirable she was, in any sense, there was no way he'd let her leave without knowing how badly he couldn't get enough of her.
Arnold rolled his shoulder under her thigh, pressing his lips to the top of that spot, making her gasp and twitch; then moved lower, licking her through the wet fabric. His chest rumbled in appreciation at the way she cried out; the harsh, upward jerk of her pelvis burying his face in the heat of her.
Breaking apart as he panted, he smoothed a hand under her thigh toward her front, rubbing his thumb over the light swell of her panties until he'd passed over Helga's clit, earning an electrified jolt he heard and felt go through her.
Her hips rocked back and forth on the chair to match the up-and-down of his thumb, his trapped, aching hardness drooling precum at the needy little sounds in her throat as she shivered and clenched, trying to hold back.
He couldn't wait to wring out the other noises he knew she could make.
Sweat from his damp hairline tickled down his temple as he roasted in the humid air between her thighs, the husky timbre of his voice rolling out in a low, breathy tone as Arnold kept stroking her with this thumb.
"I bet if I kept going, I could make you come like this…"
He bit his lip in a light smirk at the helpless whimper that escaped despite herself.
"Do you want that? Or…"
He already knew the answer, but he couldn't resist the rush he felt at making her admit what she wanted.
"Do you want these out of the way?" he rasped, fingers already drawn by the seam of her panties as his thumb kept circling her. "So I can go down on you…?"
For all his boldness, when he flickered his eyes back to her face, it was the unrestrained, raw look he saw there that stole his air.
Shoulders rounded as she braced an iron grip on the chair, she leveled him with the dirtiest fucking smolder he'd ever seen as she panted, teeth showing while she nodded her unspoken demand loud and clear:
'You better.'
Oh, he thought back, eyes darkening on her. Don't you worry.
I'm gonna eat you alive.
He licked his lips and rubbed faster, adrenaline pumped.
The details he caught between her legs as she stood in that hallway cooked him up every day since.
He didn't even have the wherewithal to describe the feeling that overcame him as he hooked his fingers inside the seam of her panties, finally being in this position, with her.
Helga Pataki.
The one girl he'd ever known that'd driven him to near madness.
Leaning his temple against her thigh, he swallowed, pulling the fabric away from her slowly, trembling.
His jaw dropped, an awestruck groan at the back of his throat as the reveal flushed him hot from the inside out.
"Oh, fuck..."
Glistening in the light caught above, strands of her wetness clung from the sodden fabric down the whole length of her slicked clit and inner lips, parted open and full.
…Fuck. There was so much.
He'd never even seen a girl so ridiculously wet! And, the fact that it was because of him, what he'd done to her…
Fuck!
He lifted his eyes to her face, drowning in want.
And knew, despite the shyness he saw resurface, that she was drowning, too.
Arnold slid her panties all the way to the side as he held her vulnerable, steaming gaze, her mouth falling open with his words.
"God, you're so fucking gorgeous..."
Hoisting her leg to join the other over his shoulders, he curled his grip around her thighs, leaned in, and pressed a long, heartfelt kiss on the hood of her clit as she gasped, raising her hips; drifting away to suck at her glazed outer lips as she shuddered. Every fantasy he'd had since her closet culminated in the heated rush of his moan as he licked the full length of her parted lips, gathering a flood of her on his tongue.
His eyes rolled as they closed, drawing that slippery wetness to the roof of his mouth to savor her there with a sigh; transported. Salacious and slick, in a way only pussy could be.
She gave a high whimper, hand slapping back on the chair when he pushed her right leg off his shoulder, pressing her knee to her chest as he surged down to cover her in an open, molten kiss, sucking as much as he could of her into his mouth at once in a moment of pure indulgence.
God, her flavor, tangy sweet—and the way it mixed with her sweat and that scent of hers that drove him nuts; that soft, feminine musk so unlike his own as she rubbed herself on his face. Needily, where she wanted him most. He obliged, lips sliding up in a suctioning kiss around her clit.
The urgent noise she made as she reached down and fisted his hair, the first time she'd touched him back, filled him with such relish he was groaning against her as she grinded.
Suffering his torched, throbbing cock as he ignored its crying need for relief, he lifted his eyes, looking up as she lost herself in his mouth; the girl who couldn't stand him.
He said her name in a withering plea; no louder than a hot breath between his efforts.
Arnold didn't care how hard it'd break his heart later. He'd pretend when she closed her eyes she wasn't thinking of that other guy, that every moan was for him. He huffed into her short curls, determined to be so good she wouldn't even miss that asshole, anyway.
He made a passing suck at her inner lips before running the flat of his tongue over her swollen clit; listening, feeling and watching her with hawk eyes as he experimented. Searching for the stimulation she liked best, until she yanked his hair so hard it hurt, forcing his face in her pussy to the near point of suffocation.
God, yes, he thought, moaning in muffled approval.
Use me…
Gripping harder on the leg he held up, he un-looped his arm from her other one, resting it over his shoulder as his left, dominant hand traveled down to knead her innermost thigh until he had to break away to pant heavily for air, cock aching at the needy noise she made in protest.
He looked up, dragging his lower lip across her clit as he spoke, voice low and brutish.
"Do you want my fingers in you?"
Helga's head rolled to her shoulder like she might fall apart and replied with only a speechless nod as she panted, sweaty and flushed; her gaze reduced to lashes.
Dear God… he thought, at just how captivating she was, the look of her hot and flustered as she wanted to be filled…
"Fuck," he gusted, kissing her clit in gratitude. Looking down at his hand, he slipped his fingers up her soft, wet folds, rubbing her in circles around the top of her as she squirmed. Then, breath shivery and trembling to the brim with emotion, he slid his middle finger down, pressed in…and watched breathlessly as it sank tenderly inside her.
Oh God, I'm fucking inside her.
His heartbeat pulsed mercilessly in his cock, the craving to gratify himself so cruel it nearly drove him mad as she mewled with desperation and squeezed. He couldn't help his groan when he drew back from that dripping heat, her hips driving down as he pushed two up inside her next.
"Jesus," he rasped, burning up in a sweat as he watched his own fingers sliding in and out of her, feeling her cling to him. That hot, enveloping, slippery glide back and forth. Her raw, unfiltered expression. Her emphatic moan when he curled his fingers.
Arnold pulled back on her G-spot as she gasped excitedly—swooned—and kept that pressure there, building up. Inspired, tremors ran through his fingers as he slowly lifted, dragging her up from that spot; watching with a dark, hungry joy as she nearly came apart.
Helga yanked at his hair and let out a high-pitched cry as he built that intensity, her heels digging into him, arching so much her ass nearly came off the chair, until she finally collapsed on the seat with a near-begging sob when his fingers moved, his mouth returning to her clit.
Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?
Arnold huffed against her, sliding his curling fingers back and forth in tandem with his sucking motions at her clit, and—fuck. He felt like he could come any moment from just the friction of his cock twitching against his strained jeans.
And from those noises.
Those wet, obscene, disgustingly hot sounds as she dripped down past his knuckles, that he'd first overheard from her closet as she fucked herself, driving him wild since.
He pulled out his fingers with a growl of want at the memory, his fantasies of that soiled toy, because—God, he just had to.
Pressing a messy kiss to her swollen clit as Helga whined, his other hand abandoned her pushed-up leg to rub over her hood as he gazed down. Arnold groaned in his throat, cock burning at the sight of his fingers, utterly sluiced in a thick layer of creamy, semi-white slick. He shoved them in his mouth in a libidinous rush, sucking and swallowing at the deeper, tangy-tart flavor inside of her as he looked up at her glazed, rapturous expression, smoldering with promise.
I'm gonna make you come so hard you're gonna forget all about that fucking asshole.
Arnold shifted, turning his torso to angle himself better as his fingers slid back in to really fuck her, making her head throw back with a hot, exhilarating cry.
And where's he, huh?
He leaned into her side to put more power in it, moving his hand behind her waist. She tore at his shirt, his hair, whimpering brokenly when he bent to suck and swirl his tongue at her clit, and bucked.
Was he trying to make her come? No.
Her breathing was rapid, coming undone, her noises so fucking desperate, and he knew if he reached down and grabbed himself he'd burst in seconds, but he didn't, pouring everything into pleasuring her instead. She spasmed, clutched blindly at his hair as she keened a tremulous, helpless cry that boiled his blood, and told himself he didn't even care if all she could think about in that moment was that other guy doing this to her instead, eagerly meeting his downfall.
I'm here!
"ARNOLD!"
—!
Did she—
To his shock and with no turning back, he felt the top of the dive right before it hit, and exploded, muffling his eruptive cries as he buried his face in her and came, untouched, in his pants.
…FUCK!
He barely had control over himself for a swimming, euphoric spell.
But, he'd somehow stayed latched to her clit, his fingers still jammed at her G-spot. Arnold looked up to her face as he kept going, reeling in an altered state.
God, Helga...
He watched, heart in his throat at the spellbinding image of her on the edge burning to memory as time slowed.
Come for me.
Helga had seized up, her whole body clenched tight and still, until her legs started to shake, her mouth dropping open in a silent roar…
And burst, in a series of rhythmic, agonized cries.
He gripped her hips in breathless awe as she thrashed, feeling the strength of her orgasm clenching his fingers over and over as its waves tore through her.
Arnold panted, slowing his movements with a clash of feelings he couldn't describe as she writhed with aftershocks.
He eased off her sensitized, twitching clit with a kiss; then another on the hood above it; and more, into her curls.
So many of those nameless emotions flooded through him that he bit his lip in a grimace, to try and hide them when her head rolled forward again, panting, flushed red, her hair sweaty and mussed.
Just…wanting so much to properly hold her as she came down, express himself honestly, kiss her—
He resumed sliding his fingers in and out of her again instead, wringing a high sound in her throat, eyes squeezed shut and biting her bruised lip as he worked for another round. She was already warmed up, and as long as the door was locked and they were undisturbed, he could give her as many orgasms as she wanted. And the way she groaned and thrust onto his hand, her muscles fluttering, gripping him again already…consoled him.
The very idea of ending it now, maybe forever, if she didn't want this again, was just…unbearable.
…Fuck though, he thought, replaying what'd just happened in his head as his heart sped up, flushing him hot all over again.
He got her so good she called out his name!
Instead of that other guy!
Yes!
God, that win made him feel fucking high.
His cock stirred, already hardening again…
And as for the cum in his pants, screw it, he could tune that sensation out. It was mostly absorbed by the fabric, anyway.
Arnold built her up with his hand, leaning in to lap at that wet slick of hers he relished, sucking at her soft, swollen lips on a slow path back to her clit. When she pushed herself into his mouth again his pace quickened, losing himself in her sighs; her urgent gasps and whimpers strangled in her throat.
It wasn't long until he was groaning at the chorus of her broken cries as she came again.
Before she'd even come down his hand kept going, still pumping in and out of her as he adjusted, ignoring the soreness in his knees as he rose off the floor.
Arnold braced his other hand on the chair, feeling the hard weight of his trapped, weeping cock as he hovered above her overcome, pleasured visage. He felt like something else as he shook with desperation to keep going.
The rush of his whispered words came rough and shivery through his teeth as he shared the only kind of truths with her he could.
"You're so fucking hot, Helga."
He curled even deeper, reveling in the sloppy sounds she made as his fingers fucked her; in her high, shallow breath as her face turned away in overwhelm.
"And you taste so fucking good."
Her chest, stomach seized up in spasms as she gripped the chair, whimpers tangling in her throat.
"God! I could eat you out all fucking day."
Helga's panting stirred him up even further as she covered her face with her hand, feeling a bittersweet power over her, that he could bring her to such a state despite her pride, her reluctance to be vulnerable, or her pleasure plainly seen.
His thoughts and fingers slowed in the moment that followed, when the only parts of her that shook were from the waist up as she went eerily quiet.
Arnold blinked in a second of confusion before a wash of cold horror iced through him at the sound of her wet, choked sob.
Trembling and hiding behind her hand, Helga Pataki was crying.
… … …
Author's Note: Wow! I'm really floored with how much excitement and positive feedback the last chapter got! You guys gave me so much drive to write! Thank you all so much!
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter too, it was unusually challenging to write LOL, despite this whole story being this big erotica piece...(also (*cough* pls let me know if you think I did a good job LMAO smut is hard to write and like Arnold I tried my best!)
UPDATE: Next chap will be later this summer, very busy time of year!