To Have (The Dumont Diaries) Read Online Free PDF Page A

sight as my back arches and I explode in
    one.
    perfect.
    moment.

CHAPTER 7
    I am weak, drained, my body losing all muscle function as the last tendrils of pleasure gently fade away, aftershocks twitching my body. I should be doing something sexy, like sucking or jacking or fucking that beautiful cock. But instead I am lying on the hard ass table and celebrating the incredibleness that was that orgasm.
    “Get up and get on the bed in the master. I’m going to fuck the hell out of you.” His voice is hoarse with need, hard breaths in between the sentences, the order almost a plea despite the command in his tone.
    I move, my limbs sluggish and irritable, my orgasm party cut short. My brain tries to process his words, tries to remember where the master bedroom is. I am aided by his hands, pushing me through the kitchen, down a short hall and into the first doorway, my bare feet hitting thick carpet as my eyes adjust to darkness with a rainbow of a thousand city lights stretched before me.
    My body is spun by his hands until I face him, the lights reflecting in his eyes, his mouth finding mine, his hands gripping my waist and lifting me up and outward, until the soft bed is beneath me and he is above me, the thick length of him stiff and heavy against my thighs. I part my legs, his body settling between them, his mouth taking my throat, soft kisses alternating with delicate feedings of my flesh, his tongue teasing and torturing the hollows of my neck.
    He grinds against me, his hand reaching down and placing his cock upward between our bodies, its hard shaft heavy between my legs, every thrust of his pelvis creating delicious friction on my sex. He lifts his mouth from my neck, hovering above my mouth and changes the pace, kissing me softly and deeply as he slides his bare cock over me. I gasp against his mouth, an ache between my legs growing, the tease of his shaft driving me wild, every withdrawal thrust giving me hope that he will move it two inches lower and bury it inside of me.
    I, despite my ridiculous stripper standard of abstinence, have had plenty of partners; my college career littered with drunken hookups and failed relationships. The one-night-stand experience and I are old acquaintances, having shared three or four awkward experiences. One-night stands have, in my experience, always been disastrous, two strangers fumbling through motions while trying to convince each other that they are having timeoftheirlife sex. This is something else entirely.
    This is electricity, sizzling between our bodies and creating heat of intense need. There is, at this point in time, no going back. If he changes his mind, pulls off of my body, I will tackle him to the ground and take his cock. I am ravenous, my body crying out for his, my mouth, fingers and skin itching for his touch, for his domination. What he demands, I will freely give, his orchestration of our sex uncontested. I don’t want to battle with him, I want to pour out my body for him to use in any way he sees fit. I have tasted submission to him and love the release of control and how it feels.
    He pulls off of me, disappearing for a brief moment, only to return, his hands rolling over his cock, shielding it with a thin skin of latex. I lay back, my fingers where his shaft had previously been, my sex begging for stimulation, needing a release that will only be sweet enough if he participates. My eyes devour him as he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between my legs, his eyes on mine.
    “Tell me what you want.”
    I don’t respond and he grips my legs, pulling me to him, my legs and body open to him, his hands pushing mine away. He brushed his stiff head over my swollen lips, watching my eyes. I take a quick breath, the tease of his head too much, the look in his eyes even more of a turn-on. Possessive, dominating, with a fire behind them that both terrifies and electrifies me. He knows what I want, what I need. But I love this look in his eyes, the raw need