by Allie Ritch
“Ah, gods!” Tears dampened his eyelashes. “It’s so…it’s so…”
He couldn’t find the words for the invasiveness, the sensitivity, the vulnerability. The penetration. If he’d known what females felt with a man’s sex lodged inside, he’d have been much more careful about how he entered them. Somehow the sense of raw exposure only heightened his pleasure, though. Because it was Spri. His Spri.
“Yours,” she confirmed. “Just as you’re mine. I can feel you, Whitt. I feel my sheath like a vice around your cock, squeezing and heating the head, corseted around the shaft. Let go, and we can feel both. We can be one person.”
“How?” It was only when he noticed how hard he was gritting his teeth that he realized he hadn’t asked the question aloud.
“Just move,” she told him. “Just love me.”
“I do love you.” Through their bond, he knew she could feel it too, exactly as he could sense her love bundling him up like a soft, warm blanket.
Why had he ever feared this? With a strangled breath, Whitt slowly pulled back his hips. When he did, he felt his/her cock dragging deliciously against the walls of his/her channel. There was no way they’d last long.
“We don’t have to,” she informed him. “We’ll come together.”
Yes, they would. And if he didn’t miss his guess, their orgasm would be doubled. He was about to find out what it felt like to come as a woman and as a man simultaneously.
“Ah, gods.” He moaned again.
Slamming forward, he wasn’t sure which of them screamed. The impact of his penis against the mouth of her womb had their insides clenching. Spri made a mewling sound when he withdrew, and he knew she felt his balls draw up even more tightly.
“Yes, yes!” She was chanting now, or maybe that was him.
No telling who was controlling Whitt’s hips. Suddenly, they were just flying, slapping against her with a spanking sound as his body lunged and lunged. Everything inside them strained for completion. Her sheath was choking his dick, undulating and rippling and begging for his seed. His cock was a hard, merciless bully, demanding satisfaction—for him, for her.
Oh, man! His breasts ached. He needed someone to cup and squeeze them. Wait. No. It was her breasts that needed handling. Like a blind man, he trailed one hand from her hip to her dangling right breast and felt her nipple stab his palm. The sensation made them both jolt and his hips snap faster. His other hand was clenched in the sheets next to her, holding him up as he humped her like a crazy man.
The line between dominance and submission disappeared, or else maybe it had never really existed. Whitt felt powerful as he pummeled her with his throbbing cock, yet all he could do was accept the brutal strokes stabbing into his/her vagina. Gods, he was going so deep, taking this battering so deep. He wanted to go on forever, yet he couldn’t take any more.
“Whitt!” Spri sobbed in his mind, and that was it.
His testicles lurched and turned inside out as his cock erupted. Pulse after steamy pulse jetted into her, emptying and filling him with warmth simultaneously. Her thirsty channel milked him, sucking his essence out of him a ripple at a time. The climax wasn’t contained to his groin either. That was the epicenter, but it radiated outward until it felt like even his hair follicles were coming.
Beneath him, Spri arched and squirmed and seized with their joint climax. And they were experiencing the same orgasm, too. Whitt just didn’t realize it until he stopped ejaculating and noticed he was still coming. It was a dry release, but the sensations were somehow deeper, richer. The fact that this orgasm was playing ring-toss around his penetrating cock only made it more exotic. He could feel her/his sheath grabbing on to his/her erection, greedily holding it there until the last contractions finally faded.
Whitt couldn’t breathe. Oh, right, he’d collapsed on top of Spri. She was the one who was smothered. Pulling his limp, juicy cock out of her, he rolled to the side to give her some air. He wasn’t sure when they’d completely separate back into their own bodies and minds, but he didn’t care.
“That was…” Amazing? Mind-blowing? Extraordinary? There were no words.
Fortunately, she understood exactly what he meant. “Yes, it was.”
Turning his head, he managed to look at her, although he could only move his arm enough to clasp her hand in his. “How the hell could anyone walk away from that?”
Even the most commitment-phobic person couldn’t help but become addicted.
“Most usually don’t,” she pointed out.
With a moan, he lurched to his side so that he could give her lips a quick kiss. He brushed his fingers through her hair.
“I won’t,” he promised, meaning it. “I know now I’ll never find another woman like you.”
Her smile turned teasing. “It’s all about sex with you, isn’t it?”
Whitt just shook his head. “It’s mostly about sex. The rest is—“
“Food and good times.”
“And love,” he added.
That was a new one on his list, but it was the most important.
The End
About the Author:
Allie Ritch spends her time wandering around in her own little world in the Southeastern United States. She has an active imagination and loves fantastical elements, including those found in sci-fi, paranormal, and fantasy works. Allie enjoys entertaining others through storytelling and has fun spicing things up in erotic romance. When she's not working, she's appreciating the ocean and sunshine and keeping the company of a toy poodle who tries to French kiss everyone he meets.
Table of Contents
Title page
Blurb
PART ONE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
PART TWO
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen