12- Forgotten Limits
1261 Words
Ellie
I stretched awake, feeling like a burden had been lifted.
The air felt lighter, my chest less heavy. I wasn’t sure why, but the ache inside me seemed a little less sharp. All that time, I hadn’t known how to let go of Daniel or face him, considering everything that had happened with Ben.
I missed him, but I also knew I had questioned mine and Daniel's relationship. There was no telling if we would have made it, being such different people, but I knew I had loved him. He had been my constant when everything went wrong, and I had wanted a life with him.
It was guilt. I realized that was the weight I carried. I had felt guilty for wanting more when he had given me so much in his own way. Ben had been very much like Dan in some ways, and I think that’s what drew me to him.
Our relationship had been about logic and friendship, but he had never truly been a partner. While Dan had his faults, he had always been there for me. Talking to him last night felt the same as it always had—I had felt relief.
No matter how hard the conversation or how long it took me to work up the nerve, whenever I talked to my Dan, I had felt better. I didn’t have to let him go, but I didn’t have to hang on either. He would always be with me.
I knew he would want me to be happy, and he would challenge me to be strong. He had never allowed me to submit to my weaknesses. As jerkish as he could be, Dan had known I’d always rise to the occasion.
To get through my current rut, I would have to do the same.
As the sheets slid down my body, cool against my heated skin, I instantly thought of DJ. Ugh, it was insane how much I had wanted him to hold me last night. It was supposed to be a one-night stand. A fling and a good lay.
Just stop it, I scolded myself.
But the heat rushing through me betrayed me. He had only been considerate. I had always been a physically oriented person, and my late twenties had revealed a whole new level to my s****l appetite.
After the emotional release, I damn sure wanted a physical one as well.
I stepped into the shower, steam curling around me as the hot water pounded down, loosening muscles I hadn’t realized were clenched.
As the jets struck my n*****s, they stiffened instantly, and my head fell back in a helpless moan. I knew my own body too well—it was too easy to slide my hands down my curves, kneading the spots that begged for release, saving the most sensitive for last.
I didn’t even hear him come in.
“That’s it, Dove, show me just how you like it,” DJ whispered into my ear, his breath hot and commanding.
His hands ghosted over mine, following every desperate stroke, memorizing every shiver. He lifted me as though I weighed nothing, setting me on my knees on the built-in bench.
My chest pressed against the cool tile, n*****s aching from the contrast, and my back bowed in instinctive offering.
“Looks like you missed me.” His teeth nipped at my shoulder as his finger slid along my slit to my soaked entrance. “So wet.” His lips traced fire down my spine, leaving searing kisses until he reached the swell of my ass.
He bit into my left cheek, the sting merging with pleasure as his finger slipped inside me and his tongue teased mercilessly between my front and back openings.
The sensations overloaded me. Sparks ignited everywhere—foreign, consuming, impossible to resist. My body trembled, building too fast, too hard, until he flicked the tip of his tongue in and out and I shattered. He didn’t give me time to recover before he eased himself into my dripping sheath, stretching me open while his other hand pressed boldly into forbidden territory.
I convulsed, stretched wide, taken wholly. There was no slow climb—just relentless wave after wave that broke me down, left me falling forward with nothing but the cold tile to cling to.
His finger worked one way, his c**k another, and my body ceased to belong to me. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Could only break for him. That wives’ tale of an internal orgasm I had always doubted? DJ ripped it from me like it had been waiting just for him.
Warm liquid splattered across my back. I thought he was pulling out.
No. Sweet baby Jesus, it wasn’t that.
Through the storm tearing me apart, his hand struck down on my ass, claiming me, while his probing finger dug into another hidden patch of nerves. My body locked around him, every muscle trembling. He drove into me in one long, ruthless stroke that stole my scream.
Then came the triple assault—c**k, finger, touch—layered so perfectly that the unbearable pressure built and built until I swore I might combust.
And then I did.
The myth shattered. Every woman could have an internal orgasm. Biology and ecstasy proved it, flooding from me in torrents as the shockwave ripped through me. His release pulsed deep inside my ass at the same exact moment.
Making me feel even more satisfied when our bodies collapsed into raw, primal synchronization.
I had indulged Daniel in anal on rare occasions. He had loved it. I had tolerated it. But with DJ, I lost everything—control, resistance, self.
He left me wrecked, useless, every muscle trembling and boneless as he carried me, bathed me, placed me on the toilet with gentle care before carrying me back to bed. Time dissolved—I couldn’t say if it was five minutes or five hours before I found my voice again.
“I never do that. I hate that,” I whispered, wide-eyed, the words stripped of conviction.
“Believe me, baby, it’s rare for me too.” DJ's grin was wicked, his lips bitten and wet. “I just listened to your body, and damn, I’m glad I did.” His groan reverberated in my chest. “You’re so f*****g perfect it hurts.”
He wound me in sheets, massaging every trembling muscle, alternating between soft rubs and possessive gropes until I melted against him.
“Sorry if I seemed cold yesterday,” my dark miracle murmured, his voice lower, heavier, with us tangled in my bed.
“You weren’t. And even if you were, you don’t need to apologize for anything. I mean, it’s new to me in practice, but not in theory. I get that this is an NSA-type place. I have a pretty heavy work week but have zero regrets about how I’ve spent my downtime.” I tried to laugh.
To lighten what already felt like too much. “If I’d known it was this good, I might have come to the dark side of mixing business with pleasure ages ago.”
“I don’t share what’s mine, Dove.” His warning cut through the haze like steel.
“And who said I’m yours?” I challenged, even as molten heat slid through me at the feral promise in his tone.
“You.” His grin was dark, almost dangerous, and yet devastatingly warm.
“You were made for me, Dove, and I fully plan on making you admit it....."
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