6- Cavern Heat
1554 Words
Ellie
I found myself utterly lost with this man. In the middle of nowhere with a stranger, opening my body and whimpering in desperation as I drew his bottom lip between my teeth.
The three- to six-month rule went out the window in six hours, with the full knowledge that there was no way I would ever stop at just a kiss with the demigod of an Italian.
DJ pulled his body between my legs, and my core blazed. The sensations wracking through me were ones I didn’t even recognize. I just knew every inch of me responded to him, and even my brain worked on every angle I wanted him to f**k me in.
My skin, my heart, every damned nerve ending screamed for him to touch me. I must have forgotten to breathe because he tilted his head to the side ever so slightly.
“You’re turning blue, Dove. Breathe.”
At his command, it was an easy thing.
“Good girl.” His hands reached for my hips, lifting me effortlessly to put me right against him.
There was no question as to what pulsed against me.
“Keep breathing.” I did as he said, and as a reward, he lowered his nose and lips against my jawline.
My back arched, grinding my clit on his hard erection. I couldn’t help the small moan that escaped my lips.
“We haven’t even started, Dove,” DJ teased, circling my hips with his thumbs in a gentle, massaging motion. “This is going to go nice and slow.”
Scintillating as the promise breathed in my ear was, I didn’t think I had nice and slow in me. I had been too long. He was kind, intelligent, patient, attentive, funny, and hot as all seven hells. I didn’t want slow. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted him to spear into me right there.
The man’s smell. His eyes. His inferno heat…
Every glance became its own caress, adding to his roaming hands, and I was beyond reason. So far past slow or being told to wait, I wound my arms and legs around his powerful form, grinding his hard d**k in demand.
I didn’t think I had ever kissed anyone the way I was kissing him, let alone begged while simultaneously demanding what I needed without words. I didn’t hold anything back as my hands fisted in his hair, sucking, licking, and nipping his mouth.
Unable to think, unable to breathe, just tasting the spiced heaven of his lips, feeling his hot, hard body on mine. The way his large hands flowed down my back and up my waist and sides made me feel so delicate, small, and sexy.
My hips would not stop. They mercilessly bucked and rolled, chasing the climax I could not be denied.
Larger, stronger, and more in control, DJ pulled back, changing my position and pace, causing an outright moan against his small round ear. The switch from his throbbing and ready member to those washboard abs didn’t stop the exotic lightning shooting from my clit to my brain and back down to my toes.
I knew he probably brought countless women here, told them all the things they wanted to hear, and dropped them as soon as he was done. I didn’t care.
I wanted this man inside me, f*****g every thought, worry, and pain away.
With him in control, my every nerve ending went into overdrive, and the ability to process any coherent thought other than getting more of him was long since abandoned. Left at the wayside with the nag in my head.
His hands were greedy, settling me against the cove so he could access my neck and breasts—and f**k, it felt too good. He knew how to touch and move and squeeze with the perfect amount of pressure.
I cried out again, begging for what I couldn’t voice in any other language, but my body screamed for his. The all-too-slow and deliberate exploration came to a head with his large body hovering over mine as his fingers slid down the crevice of my ass.
I would have objected that it wasn’t where I needed them if those large, strong digits hadn’t squeezed either cheek, giving me that stiff rod, albeit between entirely too much fabric.
It didn’t matter. I was right on the precipice, every cell of my lower body so hot it stung.
The lock of my muscles when his tongue scooped below the drying fabric of my top didn’t make him stop—but didn’t move him forward either. I wanted to c*m on him, with him, just c*m…
His longest finger, teasing that all-too-sensitive bundle of nerves, was as foreign as the rest. As I flew off that edge farther, faster, and harder than ever before with one last dig against my wanton body.
Every fiber of my being sparkled and shivered when he panted. “Dame Dove, you are going to undo me way too early. So f*****g gorgeous, so responsive.” The half-growl had his full lips joining my shivering ones.
The considerate and careful presses over my bathing suit bottoms were forgotten, with one large palm supporting my neck and the other scooping beneath the material over my still-spasming entrance.
“So f*****g wet,” he breathed on my lips, jamming two fingers in, bringing me down in a crash landing.
“How are you this f*****g tight? God,” he groaned, withdrawing one finger while adding his thumb to circle my clit and bring me back from the painful moment.
The exploration of that one miraculous digit pressed spots I didn’t even know existed inside me, and in what felt like seconds I was already building again.
“Please, oh… God. Please,” I begged. “Now. I need you inside of me now. Please, D…”
“Dove, I am about to lose my s**t,” he panted, forehead on mine. He pushed harder, rubbing a rough spot that made me literally gush. My head flew back at the foreign, incredible sensation, and I spiked and crashed as I rode his finger to the stars.
My whole body, including my lip, trembled. I hyperventilated, completely lost in some mystic euphoria.
“Lose it. Take me now,” I shivered between gasps of his continued brushes and presses against the skin that could not possibly be that sensitive.
It felt like if he breathed on my clit, I would c*m again—and I wanted that.
Just with him inside me.
“I can’t, baby,” he moaned. “I’m too close, and you are so f*****g tight, it’s insane.”
Refusing to take no for an answer, I reached down under his shorts to grab what I wanted.
Fuck, he was huge. His girth took my whole palm to wrap around, and it was a good ten or more inches down to the hilt for how long I had to pump.
“Holy f*****g hell.” I bit my lip and worked my hand, determined to share even one iota of the pleasure he had given me. His honey-brown eyes turned caramel, utterly on fire, with his pulse leaping in his neck.
DJ pulled me away, locking both hands in one of his behind my back. I whined in objection, breaking free of the hold to lure him in with my open and begging center.
“Please, D,” I moaned against his lips, rocking on his hand again. Sliding his thick finger back inside me, I instantly melted, and he worked me again, combining his prior movements while grinding his thumb on my clit.
“Now, D. Oh sweet Jesus, I want to c*m all over your dick.”
My tormentor groaned and fell forward, still pumping me until I came again. I realized that his d**k was in his hand and he had spilled all over my stomach.
“What kind of s*x god are you?” I half-whimpered, still panting.
“A very pleased and very hungry one.” DJ chuckled, kissing the tip of my nose, lowering me into the cool water to wipe off my stomach. “Come on, Dove, let’s get you back and fed.”
My body buzzed in the aftermath—wrung out and pulsing with sensitivity. Each brush of cool water was like a feather stroke against skin that had forgotten it could feel so much. My lips still tingled, swollen with the taste of him, and my legs shook with a kind of need that hadn’t found its end.
I watched DJ move, those wet muscles glistening as he helped clean me—gentle even now. Even when he had just taken me to pieces.
His gaze flicked to mine again. That deep, burnished heat hadn’t faded. “You okay?”
I nodded, but the truth was—no, I wasn’t okay. I was wrecked. Shattered and satisfied and starving for more. And more wasn’t just about s*x. It was about him.
The man who made my body sing like a song I had forgotten I knew. Who touched me like I was something sacred, even while defiling me in the best ways.
God help me, I didn’t want this to end. Not the high. Not the connection. Not him.
- Writer
