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MrPositive
Live the life you want
- Joined
- Sep 30, 2024
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Adrian felt it the moment she shattered beneath him.
The way her body clenched around him, gripping and pulsing in frantic, desperate waves, nearly undid him on the spot. The sound of her cries—his name breaking from her lips, raw and unrestrained—sent a deep, primal satisfaction roaring through his veins. He had done this to her. He had driven her to the brink and sent her spiraling over, had wrung pleasure from her body until she had no choice but to surrender to it.
Mine.
The word crashed through his mind with unrelenting force, and he barely held himself together as he fought to prolong the inevitable. He wanted to savor every last second of the way she felt, hot and wet and gripping him like she never wanted to let go. He gritted his teeth, his breath ragged, his muscles taut as he drove into her, pushing deeper, claiming every last bit of her as his own.
"Fuck, Cass," he groaned, his voice rough, nearly breaking as her body milked him.
Her legs tightened around his waist, locking him in place, pulling him in, keeping him buried inside her. The last tremors of her orgasm still pulsed around him, her body still writhing beneath his, still floating in that perfect haze of pleasure. She was completely undone, her limbs limp, her skin slick with sweat, and yet she was still urging him on, her body still calling for him.
And he couldn't hold back any longer. His control snapped like a frayed rope, unraveling in an instant.
His rhythm faltered, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, more desperate. The slick heat of her surrounded him, squeezing, pulling, coaxing him closer to the edge. His breath came in ragged gasps, his fingers digging into her hips, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The pressure inside him built to an unbearable peak, pleasure coiling at the base of his spine, threatening to consume him whole. He buried himself to the hilt, his body tensing, a low, guttural groan tearing from his throat as he finally gave in.
Pleasure slammed through him in powerful, consuming bursts, white-hot and unrelenting. His vision blurred, his mind emptying of everything except the overwhelming sensation of release, the raw, blissful satisfaction. His body jerked with each pulse, his breath shuddering, his grip on her tightening as he spilled himself inside her.
His forehead dropped to her shoulder, his breath uneven, his heart hammering against his ribs. The aftershocks rippled through him, his body still trembling, still lost in the lingering echoes of pleasure. He could feel her beneath him, her own chest rising and falling in the same erratic rhythm, her skin still flushed, still damp with sweat.
The world around them had disappeared. Nothing existed outside this bed, outside the space between them. His fingers flexed against her hips, his body still pressed to hers, unwilling to move, unwilling to break the connection. He didn't want to leave the warmth of her body, the safety of this moment. Because for the first time in a long time, he felt whole.
For so long, there had been a part of him that felt untethered, like he was constantly searching for something he couldn't name. His marriage had left him bruised in ways he hadn't realized, had stripped him of things he hadn't even known he'd lost. But with Cassie, that restless, empty feeling faded.
With her, he wasn't adrift. With her, he was grounded.
A deep breath rattled from his chest, and he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her shoulder. He could still feel the rapid beat of her heart against him, the warmth of her skin beneath his lips. Slowly, he shifted, easing his weight off of her just enough to let her breathe while keeping their bodies tangled together.
He didn't want distance. Not yet. He let his hand drift over the curve of her hip, his touch slow, absentminded. The reality of what had just happened, of what it meant, settled over him like a heavy but welcome weight. And somewhere deep inside, he knew there was no going back. Cassie wasn't just another woman in his bed. She was his. And he had no intention of letting her go.
The way her body clenched around him, gripping and pulsing in frantic, desperate waves, nearly undid him on the spot. The sound of her cries—his name breaking from her lips, raw and unrestrained—sent a deep, primal satisfaction roaring through his veins. He had done this to her. He had driven her to the brink and sent her spiraling over, had wrung pleasure from her body until she had no choice but to surrender to it.
Mine.
The word crashed through his mind with unrelenting force, and he barely held himself together as he fought to prolong the inevitable. He wanted to savor every last second of the way she felt, hot and wet and gripping him like she never wanted to let go. He gritted his teeth, his breath ragged, his muscles taut as he drove into her, pushing deeper, claiming every last bit of her as his own.
"Fuck, Cass," he groaned, his voice rough, nearly breaking as her body milked him.
Her legs tightened around his waist, locking him in place, pulling him in, keeping him buried inside her. The last tremors of her orgasm still pulsed around him, her body still writhing beneath his, still floating in that perfect haze of pleasure. She was completely undone, her limbs limp, her skin slick with sweat, and yet she was still urging him on, her body still calling for him.
And he couldn't hold back any longer. His control snapped like a frayed rope, unraveling in an instant.
His rhythm faltered, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, more desperate. The slick heat of her surrounded him, squeezing, pulling, coaxing him closer to the edge. His breath came in ragged gasps, his fingers digging into her hips, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The pressure inside him built to an unbearable peak, pleasure coiling at the base of his spine, threatening to consume him whole. He buried himself to the hilt, his body tensing, a low, guttural groan tearing from his throat as he finally gave in.
Pleasure slammed through him in powerful, consuming bursts, white-hot and unrelenting. His vision blurred, his mind emptying of everything except the overwhelming sensation of release, the raw, blissful satisfaction. His body jerked with each pulse, his breath shuddering, his grip on her tightening as he spilled himself inside her.
His forehead dropped to her shoulder, his breath uneven, his heart hammering against his ribs. The aftershocks rippled through him, his body still trembling, still lost in the lingering echoes of pleasure. He could feel her beneath him, her own chest rising and falling in the same erratic rhythm, her skin still flushed, still damp with sweat.
The world around them had disappeared. Nothing existed outside this bed, outside the space between them. His fingers flexed against her hips, his body still pressed to hers, unwilling to move, unwilling to break the connection. He didn't want to leave the warmth of her body, the safety of this moment. Because for the first time in a long time, he felt whole.
For so long, there had been a part of him that felt untethered, like he was constantly searching for something he couldn't name. His marriage had left him bruised in ways he hadn't realized, had stripped him of things he hadn't even known he'd lost. But with Cassie, that restless, empty feeling faded.
With her, he wasn't adrift. With her, he was grounded.
A deep breath rattled from his chest, and he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her shoulder. He could still feel the rapid beat of her heart against him, the warmth of her skin beneath his lips. Slowly, he shifted, easing his weight off of her just enough to let her breathe while keeping their bodies tangled together.
He didn't want distance. Not yet. He let his hand drift over the curve of her hip, his touch slow, absentminded. The reality of what had just happened, of what it meant, settled over him like a heavy but welcome weight. And somewhere deep inside, he knew there was no going back. Cassie wasn't just another woman in his bed. She was his. And he had no intention of letting her go.