Lover's Relentless Orgasms Before He Enters Her

Renata had spent the day pretending she could work. The branding deck on her monitor kept softening at the edges every time her phone lit up. Sergio had started it before she even left for the studio, one filthy line about the sound she made when he put his mouth on her, and by midafternoon the texts had turned shameless. She was twenty-eight, a graphic designer who usually kept her professional face on until the last file was exported, but her lover had a talent for dismantling that face from across the city. At six she typed Come over and stared at the words until he answered with a time.

He knocked just after eight. She opened the apartment door in the soft gray sweater from work and a skirt that ended above her knees, and the heat in his eyes told her the messages had done their work on him too. Sergio was thirty-two, tall enough that she had to tip her chin to meet his mouth, shoulders broad from years of running job sites. He kissed her before the door had fully shut, one palm spread at the small of her back, the other already under the sweater against bare skin. She made a small sound into his mouth and felt him smile against her.

"All day," he said. "You've been in my head all day."

"Good." Her voice shook more than she liked. He walked her backward through the living room, past the coffee table stacked with color swatches, until her calves met the bed. He laid her down with both hands, slow and sure, and the mattress took her weight while he stayed over her for a moment, just looking.

Then he stripped her. The sweater came up an inch at a time. He kissed the hollow under her ribs, the soft underside of one breast, the pulse jumping at her throat. When the wool cleared her head he set it aside and went to her skirt, unfastening it with the same patience, drawing it down her hips along with her panties until she lay naked and the air of the apartment touched every inch of her. He was still dressed. The imbalance made her clench around nothing.

"I'm going to make you come," Sergio said, bracing a knee on the mattress beside her hip. His voice had gone low and certain. "Over and over. My mouth. My fingers. I won't stop until you're shaking and begging me to fuck you."

Renata's breath left her in a rush. She reached for him, and he caught her wrists, not hard, just enough to still them. Want burned through her, clean and mutual and already unbearable. "Yes," she said. "I want that. I want all of it."

He smiled like a man who had been handed exactly what he came for.

He pinned her wrists above her head with one broad hand and lowered his mouth to her breast. The first lick was almost gentle. The second was not. He drew her nipple between his lips and sucked until it peaked hard, then scraped his teeth lightly across it while his free hand found the other breast and rolled that nipple between finger and thumb. Renata arched. Heat shot from her chest straight down between her legs, and she twisted against the hold on her wrists without any real wish to break it.

"Stay," he murmured against her skin. "Let me have you."

She stayed. He moved from one breast to the other, licking, sucking, biting just enough to make her gasp, until both nipples were swollen and shining and every brush of air felt like another touch. Only then did he release her wrists and slide down the bed. He shouldered her thighs apart and looked at her openly, the way he looked at things he intended to take his time with. She was already wet. She could feel it, the slick warmth gathering, and the sight of his mouth so close made her hips lift before she could stop them.

"Greedy already," he said, and put his tongue on her.

The first stroke was long and flat, from the bottom of her slit up over her clit, and Renata's head went back into the pillow. He did it again. And again. Relentless, unhurried, the same devastating drag of his tongue across the swelling bud until her thighs started to tremble against his ears. He pinned her hips with his forearms when she tried to chase the pressure and kept the rhythm exactly where it undid her—steady, firm, no mercy in the pace. Pleasure wound tight low in her belly. She heard herself begging in fragments, his name, please, don't stop, and he didn't. He sealed his mouth over her clit and sucked, tongue flicking underneath, and the first orgasm hit her like a wave breaking over a wall. She shuddered through it, back bowing off the bed, a raw sound tearing out of her throat while he licked her through every pulse.

He did not lift his head.

Two thick fingers slid into her while she was still clenching, and the stretch pulled a broken cry from her chest. He curled them, found the swollen spot inside her, and pressed. At the same time his mouth returned to her clit, sucking the oversensitive flesh with a focus that bordered on ruthless. The second climax built faster than the first. Her hands fisted in the sheets above her head. He worked her with those fingers in short, precise thrusts, curling on every withdrawal, tongue never leaving her, and when she broke again it was sharper, brighter, her whole body locking around his hand while he groaned against her like her pleasure was something he could drink.

"Again," he said, voice rough against her, and did not wait for an answer she had already given him with her body.

He kept going. The third orgasm arrived on the heels of the second, almost violent, her thighs shaking hard against his shoulders, her voice gone high and wrecked. Each peak was more intense than the last. Wetness slicked his fingers and his chin. He refused to ease off, refused to give her the pause her nerves were screaming for, and Renata came apart under him with her eyes squeezed shut and his name ruined in her mouth, wave after wave, until she was gasping and still somehow climbing.

She was trembling, slick with sweat, the sheets already damp beneath her shoulders, when he decided she could take more. Sergio shifted his angle and drove his fingers deeper, thrusting them in a steady, filthy rhythm while his tongue turned rapid against her clit—quick, focused flicks that never let the sensation settle into anything she could brace against. Renata sobbed his name. Her nipples were still tight from his mouth, aching in the cool air every time her chest heaved. Sweat gathered in the hollow of her throat and along the undersides of her breasts. She tried to close her thighs and he only opened her wider, holding her there, mouth sealed to her, fingers curling hard against that spot inside until the pressure became unbearable.

"I can't," she gasped, and then she could, and then she was coming again, a fourth orgasm that tore through her harder than the rest. Her back left the mattress. Her hands scrabbled at the pillow. Pleasure slammed through her in bright, punishing pulses while he fucked her with his fingers and licked her through it, relentless, drinking every twitch, every broken sound, refusing to let the peak crest and die. It went on until her vision blurred at the edges and her voice cracked into something wordless. Only when she was shuddering and slick and half-gone did the plea finally rip out of her, raw and desperate and completely meant.

"Please. Sergio, please, I need you inside me. Fuck me. I can't take any more of your mouth, I need your cock, please—"

He lifted his head at last. His mouth was wet. His eyes were dark and satisfied and hungry all at once. He kissed the inside of her shaking thigh, then rose onto his knees and stripped off what remained of his clothes without hurry and without looking away from her. Shirt, pants, the rest, dropped to the floor. He was thick and hard, flushed dark at the tip, and the sight of him made her clench around nothing so hard she whimpered.

"There she is," he said softly. "Begging, just like I promised."

He spread her quivering thighs wide with both hands, thumbs stroking the tender skin at the creases, and settled between them. The blunt head of his cock nudged her soaked entrance. Renata reached for him, and this time he let her, her palms sliding up his arms to his shoulders as he pushed in. Slow. Deep. One relentless glide that opened her around his thickness until he was seated to the hilt and she could feel him everywhere. A helpless sound broke out of her. She was so wet he slid home without resistance, and still the stretch was enormous, perfect, almost too much after everything he had already wrung from her.

"God," she breathed. "You feel—"

"I know." He stayed buried for a moment, letting her flutter and clutch around him, watching her face. Sweat shone on his chest. His hands bracketed her ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. "You're still coming down. I can feel it."

He drew back and pushed in again, a long, deep stroke that dragged against every swollen, oversensitive place inside her. Renata's mouth fell open. Aftershocks rolled through her in helpless clenches, her body gripping him on every withdrawal as if it couldn't bear to let him go. He set a pace that was almost cruel in its patience—slow, powerful, each thrust bottoming out, each retreat a sweet agony along her clit where his body met hers. The wet sound of it filled the room. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him deeper, and he gave her exactly that, grinding in at the end of every stroke until her eyes rolled and fresh heat began to coil low in her belly despite how thoroughly he had already undone her.

"Look at you," he murmured against her mouth, kissing her between thrusts, tasting of her. "Soaked. Shaking. Taking me so well after coming all over my tongue."

She could only nod, words gone, nails biting into his shoulders. He fucked her like that for a long time, unhurried and devastating, sweat slicking the slide of their bodies, her breasts brushing his chest, his cock filling her over and over until the aftershocks blurred into something new and rising. Every deep stroke pushed a soft, broken sound out of her. She was glowing with it, flushed from throat to thighs, clinging to him as if the bed might vanish underneath them.

He kept that steady rhythm when she started to tighten again, powerful thrusts that never rushed, never faltered, driving her up the last steep slope with the same relentless focus he had used with his mouth. Renata shattered around him with a cry that cracked in the middle, her final orgasm ripping through her harder than she thought she had left, clenching so tight he groaned and had to still for a heartbeat just to stay with her. Then he buried himself to the hilt and came, pulsing deep inside her in thick, hot surges while she trembled through the last of it, both of them locked together and shaking.

They stayed like that, panting, his forehead against hers, trading soft, unhurried kisses while their heartbeats slowed against each other. When he could move he rolled them carefully, still inside her, until she lay draped over his chest, boneless and glowing, his hands spanning her back.

She had begged, and he had ruined her exactly as promised, and she never wanted to be put back together.