Seven (3 page)

Then he slid off her panties and finally
used his finger to part her intimate folds and expose her to his view. The air
against her arousal made her gasp.

“Definitely hot and wet,” he said
with another smile. He pressed his finger lightly against her clit before
sliding it away.

She whimpered. “Oh, God, Owen,
please.”

“So you
are
ready for me?”

“Yes.” She arched up when he stroked
her very lightly again. “Please.”

Finally, he lined his erect cock up at
her entrance. “That’s what I thought. Now. I believe I have a challenge to
fulfill.”

“Good luck,” she mumbled, mostly
because she felt like she hadn’t been putting up a very good defense. She
gasped in pleasure as he started pushing inside her. She felt her wet pussy
cling and give way to the width and length of him, and she bent her legs up
until her knees were high on either side of his hips. “You’re definitely going
to need it.”

His face was tense and strained as he
visibly tried to control whatever his need was—his need to thrust, to let go,
to fall toward his own release.

She made herself hold still, because
she knew he needed her to and because she did trust him—even though she hadn’t
realized it to this extent before.

After a minute, Owen was breathing
evenly again, and he lowered himself over her body even more, one forearm resting
beside her head and shoulder and his fingers occasionally playing with her brown
hair. He tangled the fingers of his other hand into her hand, which was resting
near her head, her arm bent up, and she tightened her fingers around his,
holding his hand in an unexpectedly tender gesture.

When she felt his lower body come
down on her pelvis, Amy sighed and pulled her knees up toward her chest. With
little trouble, she positioned her legs so that her calves pushed against the
outside of his upper thighs and her heels just below his butt.

He pulled back slowly and thrust the
first time, and Amy whimpered with pleasure in response. Her clit was rubbing
against his pubic bone, and his cock penetrated her at exactly the right depth.
Not deep enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to make her feel exquisitely
tight and full.

“That’s perfect,” she whispered,
gazing up into his hot eyes. Her face twisted as he thrust again. “Perfect.”

He always seemed to be really into their
lovemaking, and often he was fast and hard and urgent. But today—although his
eyes were intense, almost wild—his motion was steady and leisurely. Amy rocked
beneath him, trying to match his tempo. But as the pressure swelled up beneath
her belly, the pumping of her hips became faster and more erratic.

“Soon,” she gasped, struggling to
free her hand from his so she could claw at his shoulder. “God, Owen, soon.” When
he wouldn’t release her hand, she gave up trying. Let him pin her down with his
hand and the weight of his body. Let him give her this pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, love. You’re
getting so tight. Tell me when.”

Her climax rising startlingly fast, Amy
groaned and tossed her head. “Soon,” she breathed again. “Coming. God!” His
thrusting never wavered in speed or depth and, combined with the way his body
was rubbing against her clit with every thrust, it took her right up to the
edge.

About to fall over into release, Amy
arched up and cried softly, “Yeah. Now, now!”

It happened. Just not what she wanted
to happen.

At her breathless cry, Owen froze
completely and then withdrew until his cock was barely inside her.

Amy wailed, “Owen!”

He was sweating and breathless, but
he watched her with fiery possessiveness. “What?”

“I was coming.” She squirmed beneath
him, trying to get friction in any way she could. But he had withdrawn too far
and she couldn’t get close enough to rub against him. “I was almost there. What
the hell are you doing?”

“Fulfilling the challenge,” he
answered succinctly, tightening his fingers around hers.

“I don’t think the challenge was
supposed to involve being mean.”

He leaned down to kiss her, and the
kiss was soft and sweet enough that it relaxed her a little. “Trust me. I’m not
just being mean. It will be worth it. I promise.”

She snarled but didn’t argue. She did
trust him, and she intended to be a good sport. That is, until she was
convinced he was just being nasty, and then she’d start being nasty back.

After another moment, he penetrated
her fully again, lowering his weight back over hers, renewing the friction on
her clit as he started moving his hips.

Amy moaned hoarsely as Owen began to
thrust, trying to regain the momentum she had lost. She squeezed his hips
between her thighs and gasped, “Damn it, Owen. Now I have to start over.”

He’d straightened his body some, so
his eyes could run over her body, from her face to her jiggling breasts. “I
know. I’m sorry, baby.”

She made a few helpless mews of
frustration as she felt her orgasm rising again at her center. “You don’t look
sorry. You look like you‘re enjoying my misery.” On principle, she fought a
little more against the grip on her hand, but she was beginning to feel a kind
of unexpected thrill at being completely at his mercy.

And the truth was—she wasn’t actually
miserable.

Although she was starting to lose the
circulation in her fingers.

She supposed she should be impressed
that Owen managed to scowl despite the situation. As he pumped into her
steadily, he rasped, “You think this is easy?” He stifled a groan when Amy
squeezed him hard with both her thighs and her inner muscles. “Fuck, Amy, you
feel incredible.”

Well, that was always nice to hear,
and she wasn’t too far gone to not feel a little mushy. But the mushiness quickly
transformed into impatience as he lowered more of his weight against her pelvis,
deepening the stimulation on her clit.

She bucked up involuntarily, although
he was pressing her down too hard for her to get very high. “Oh, yeah. Like
that.” She pumped her hips, feeling the sensations begin to crest once more. “Owen,
please!”

With his jaw clenched so tightly she
could see the muscles in his cheeks quiver, Owen sustained the steady, luscious
rhythm. “Coming?” he asked in strangled voice.

She tried to arch beneath him,
stretching the line of her torso out even more. Her nipples were chafing
against his chest, and her hips were thrashing desperately. “Oh, yeah,” she
cried, her voice much louder than usual. “Oh, yeah!”

And then—damn it!—he withdrew again,
halting her orgasm right at the last second.

He didn’t appear to be enjoying it
either. He was practically wheezing from the effort it took to control himself.
But Amy was in far worse shape than he was. She’d been so close to coming. So
exquisitely close.

And now she wasn’t.

“Fuck you, Owen!” she raged, through
clenched teeth, shuddering violently and pumping her pelvis up in a futile
attempt to find release. “Mean, mean, and cruel.” It wasn’t her cleverest of
insults, but her mind was barely functioning.

He lowered his face until it was
burrowed against her neck. “It’ll be good,” he promised again, his voice
muffled by her damp skin. “I promise, love, it will be good.”

“But why all the torture? You’re supposed
to give me seven orgasms but you won’t even give me one.”

“I will,” he murmured, pressing
little kisses now up and down her throat. “I will. This will make it easier
later. Trust me.”

The sweet kisses were almost as
powerful as the sensation of his cock moving again inside her. Amy thought she
would melt as he continued to nibble a line up her jaw and toward the side of
her mouth. “Owen, please,” she begged, as the pleasure started building more
quickly this time. “Please now. I want to come.”

His face hovering just above hers, he
met her eyes and murmured again, “Trust me.”

She did. She trusted him in this.
Wanted to trust him in everything. Just didn’t know if he wanted that kind of
trust. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Yeah.”

He kissed her, and it was wet and
clumsy on both sides, but it left Amy overwhelmed by more than just physical
pleasure. When he pulled away, he accelerated his tempo, driving his cock into
her with faster, shorter strokes.

Tossing her head back and forth on
the pillow, she squeezed his hand, which she still held. “God, Owen, yeah.
Please, this time.” She writhed between his body and the mattress, jolts of
pleasure coalescing into one powerful force. Her breasts and clit were rubbing
against his hard body, and her thighs were once again squeezing desperately
around his hips. She cried out loudly. Wasn’t even embarrassed.

They were rocking the whole bed,
banging the headboard against the wall, and Amy was so close—just couldn’t
quite get there. Practically sobbing, she bucked up with frantic jerks of her
pelvis, sweating collecting in the hollow of her neck and across her belly.

“Look at me, baby,” Owen said.

She couldn’t immediately, she was so
overwhelmed.

“Amy, love, look at me.” His voice
was low but held unmistakable authority.

She met his eyes and then couldn’t
look away, trapped by the fire, the need, the passion in his expression.

The shift in focus left all the
intense sensations out of her control. And, once out of her control, they took
on a life of their own. And a few more thrusts pushed her over the edge at last.

“Come now, love.”

She did.

She howled with it—there was no other
word. It swept up from her center and overtook her body completely. All the
pressure that had built up from the previous, half-finished orgasms combined and
imploded with this one, leaving her helpless in the wake of it.

She knew Owen was watching her, but she
couldn’t be self-conscious. She was barely conscious of anything but the waves
of sensation washing over her. It went on for a long time, her inner muscles
clamping down brutally around Owen’s hard cock.

Until she became conscious of one
other thing. Owen was swearing under his breath, his face contorted with what
looked like agony. His body had frozen completely still, and it was only her
rocking body—riding him from below—that extended the long duration of the
contractions.

Finally, the peak passed, and she
gasped desperately as she started to come down, her body beginning to relax—contented,
pleased, and exhausted.

Halfway through her orgasm, Owen had squeezed
his eyes shut, but he opened them again as she fell limp onto the mattress.

“Wow!” she gasped. “It
was
worth it. That might be the best I’ve ever had.”

She thought he wanted to look pleased
with himself. But he mostly just looked like he’d been through a war.

When her muscles had unclenched
enough, he pulled out of her, his cock still hard and slick from her fluids.
Instead of pulling her into a tight embrace and then collapsing beside her as
he usually did, he cupped her groin with his palm. He wasn’t in direct contact
with her clit but he started applying pressure with the heel of his hand.

“Really going to try for more?” she
inquired weakly, still far too pleased with the world to mind his arrogance.

“You didn’t think I’d give up after
one, did you?” His eyebrows elevated just a little, but his breathing was
erratic and sweat was pouring down the sides of his face.

Poor thing. He’d done really well.
And he wasn‘t yet admitting defeat. She wanted to swallow him whole—to pull him
inside her and never let him go. But what she said was, “Okay. Let’s see what
you’ve got.”

She wasn’t worried. In fact, she was
almost perfectly happy. Owen clearly wanted her so much that he could barely
control himself. She had no doubts, especially now, that she would win the
wager. She’d just had the best orgasm of her life. And Owen was looking at her
with that tender possessiveness she so loved and so little understood.

And he was going to try for another.

In fact, she was so lost in her
pleasant haze that she failed to notice when Owen reached over and opened the
drawer to the nightstand.

She only noticed when he pulled
something out and turned it on.

She’d had it for quite a while, but
didn’t use it much anymore, since Owen more than satisfied her. She wasn’t even
sure how he’d known it was there.

But the sight and sound of the little
device immediately snapped her out of her dazed languor. It actually made her a
little bit nervous.

“Hey, you big cheater! I never said
you could use a vibrator.”

Owen gave her an
arrogant look. “You never said I
couldn’t
use a vibrator.”

Amy’s jaw fell open. She was feeling
warm and sated and wasn’t really in the psychological state to do much arguing.
She’d never come more than twice with a vibrator anyway, so she didn’t think
this would end up being the thing to determine the victory, but it wouldn’t do
to let Owen have his way too easily. “These orgasms are supposed to be from
you—not from some little mechanical device.”

He turned off the vibrator when he
saw she was going to put up a fight. “Oh, believe me, I’ll be the one making
you come.” He pushed against her sensitive clit with the heel of his hand. “But
my hand might get tired if I have to rely only on it for all seven orgasms.”

“You have to use your cock.” She
gazed down at that particular body part as she spoke. It was still hard and
coated with her fluids. It wasn’t particularly beautiful—no cock she’d ever
seen was—but she loved how it looked, how it felt, what it signified when it
was erect. Loved the sight of it now, concrete evidence of their earlier
lovemaking.

“I will,” he murmured, holding her by
the shoulders and pulling her up into a sitting position. “The vibrator will
just be back up.”

In spite of herself, Amy chuckled at
this. Then leaned over and kissed him with slow tenderness. She loved how
stubborn he was—how he’d never back down from a fight—even though it meant he
would never back down from her.

So much of their relationship had
been made up of this playful competitiveness, even from the first day they met
in the bookstore, when neither one would break the pretense of indifference,
when they were obviously interested in each other.

That was all she could hope for in a
casual relationship like this—to be pleased and challenged and entertained.

Not loved.

She rubbed her breasts against his
chest as she explored the warm depths of his mouth with her tongue. He moaned
against her lips and was suddenly more urgent, squeezing her tightly and
sinking his fingers into the flesh of her ass.

Laughing softly as she pulled away
from the kiss, she said, “Are you sure you’re going to be able to hold out long
enough?” She reached down and stroked his erection. “What about your own happy
ending?”

He shifted until he was kneeling on
the bed and started to rearrange her body. Before he finished speaking, he had
turned her over and positioned her on her hands and knees in front of him. “My
happy ending isn’t about coming.” His fingers fondled deeper in the space
between her legs, where she was still wet and aroused from his continued,
gentle massage of her clit.

She wiggled her bottom at the
intensity of the stimulation, but more intense were the growing feelings in her
chest. In her heart. “What is your happy ending?” she whispered, staying in the
position he’d placed her but looking at him over her shoulder.

His suddenly soft eyes seemed to be
speaking the answer.
Her
, they were saying.
She
was his happy
ending.

Amy trembled, although she was overly
warm, and felt goosebumps break out all over her flushed skin. She wasn’t sure
which was more overwhelming—her sappiness or her renewed desire, growing
stronger at the knowledge that he was about to take her from behind.

Owen positioned himself behind her,
lining his cock up with a hand that she couldn’t help noticing shook a little.
“My happy ending is winning,” he said dryly.

She grunted in surprise. Then grunted
again as he pushed his hard cock into her body.

Once again, he didn’t go as deep as
he could have, but the angle was perfect, and she felt him connect with her
g-spot in a way that made her shudder.

He bent over at the waist until his
chest was pressing into her back, bracing himself with one arm. He kissed the
back of her neck, which was bare because her hair had fallen over her
shoulders. “Were you expecting me to say something else?”

She wasn’t sure what to make of his
tone, and she just couldn’t think clearly enough to figure it out. Her first
impression was that he was prompting her, coaxing her into revealing something.
But she wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear, and answering the question honestly
would make her vulnerable to things she shouldn’t feel. Things she was
convinced she
didn’t
really feel. So, instead of speaking her heart, she
said, “Of course not. I know very well that competition brings out your most
demanding
attributes.” As she said the last words, she pushed her hips back against him,
drawing his most obvious attribute a little bit deeper inside her.

Owen straightened up and adjusted his
legs to give himself more leverage as he began to thrust. He grabbed the flesh
of her bottom with one hand, and in the other he still held the vibrator.

Watching him over her shoulder, she
saw his features contort as she squeezed her inner muscles around his erection.
He was starting to sweat again, and that wild look had returned to his eyes.

It was amazing really. That somehow
he could be so clearly affected by a compelling need for her, but could still
resist his release long enough to give her more than one orgasm. He wasn’t in
control of this—but he hadn’t yet lost control.

It was almost a paradox, and it was
one she wished she could master.

He thrust into her slowly from behind,
and Amy moaned at the resulting friction. Then she heard a buzzing noise.
Assumed he’d turned on the vibrator.

Then she knew for sure. He’d wrapped
his arm around her middle and was holding the vibrator to her clit, near where
he was pumping slickly in and out of her.

“God!” she cried out, as she felt the
intense vibrations hit her where she was already sensitive. “Oh, God!”

“Do you like that, love?” Owen asked
breathlessly, clutching the side of her ass and stimulating her with the little
device. His thrusts were short and choppy, but every drive hit her g-spot.

“Yeah,” she gasped, her arms already
beginning to shake as she tried to hold up her body. “Oh, yeah. Don’t stop!”
She turned her head to look back at him again, saw that his face was tense with
concentration and effort.

His focused, determined expression
made her even wilder—made her increasing abandon an irresistible contrast to
his rigid control. She rocked her body back against his thrusting and
whimpered, her helpless sounds mingling with the hum of the vibrator, the rocking
of the bed, and the wet sound of him sliding inside her.

He grunted in time to their rhythm.
“Do you like it when I take you like this?”

She had to straighten her neck and
stare down at the pillow, no longer coordinated enough to look back at him. “Yeah,”
she admitted, starting to pant from the effort. “Yeah. I like it.”

Her arms were shaking so much they
would no longer support her upper body, so she bent them at the elbow and
lowered her shoulders, folding her arms beneath her chest. Her bottom was now
the only part of her body still elevated, and she thrust it up toward him.

Owen made a throaty sound and
tightened the fingers of one hand bruisingly on her hip. “Yes, Amy, yes. Let
go. Show me how much you like it when I fuck you from behind.” He didn't
normally talk like that during sex, but for some reason it thrilled her, turned
her on even more.

She didn’t always like this position,
but something about the raw nature of their fucking was pushing Amy completely
out of control. She gasped frantically, sucking on the saliva that had pooled
in her mouth. “Yeah. Fuck me,” she begged, lost in the middle of the dueling
sensations, caught between the vibrations on her clit and his rapid thrusting
inside her. Her raw words sounded strange to her own ears, and they made her
feel kind of wild and dirty. But she liked the strangeness of it. A lot. So she
panted, “Just. Like. That.”

The sensations were rising so
uncontrollably that Amy grew dizzy, felt like she was falling. She bit down
hard on the pillow while tears leaked from her closed eyes.

With a flick of his finger, Owen
switched the vibrator to a higher setting, and Amy smothered a scream in the
pillow as the intensity became overwhelming.

“No,” he rasped. “Don’t hide it. Let
go, baby. Show me how good I make you feel.”

She wanted to show him. Wanted to let
everything go and start falling. Wanted to trust that Owen would catch her. But
the stubborn part of her spirit resisted the free fall, and she tried to force
out a response. “E—,” she began hoarsely, fisting her hands in the bedding in
an attempt to hold onto something. “Eg—” Gasp. “Ego—” Another gasp. “Egotis—”
Three harsh gasps in a row. Finally, she managed to pronounce the whole word.
“Egotistical…” She had been going to add a few creative insults, but she
decided against it as a deep pressure started to build below her belly. So she
concluded on an exhale, “Jerk.”

He let out a rough burst of laughter.
“True. But just this once…indulge me. Don’t try to control it. Let go for me.”

She would have argued some more but
was physically incapable of it. Mentally incapable of it. Didn’t even want to
be capable of it. She’d never felt so hot and primitive in her life. Never had
imagined she could feel this way.

Turning her head so that her wet
cheek was pressing down on the pillow, she cried out loudly, letting go of all
restraint as she kept pressing her ass back into his pelvis, “God, Owen. Oh,
God!”

“Yeah,” Owen echoed in a raspy voice,
almost clawing at her hip now. “Just like that, baby.”

She cried out wordlessly as he pushed
the vibrator against her even harder. Then again as she felt the massive swell
of her orgasm approaching to swallow her whole.

Drool was leaking from the side of
her mouth, and her eyes and nose were running. She didn’t care. Didn’t care how
she looked or sounded—only cared how she felt. How Owen was making her feel.

“Yeah,” Owen coaxed in a hoarse
whisper. “Yeah, come for me again. Come hard.”

She was definitely going to come
hard. So hard she started to panic. Suddenly the sensations were too much for
her, as if there wouldn’t be anything left of her once they passed.

Starting to shake uncontrollably, she
choked out, “God, Owen, help. Help me!” She wasn’t sure what she wanted him to
do—only that she was drowning and he was her only lifeline.

He slowed his thrusting in response
to her plea and flipped the vibrator to the lower setting. He didn’t stop
fucking her, but the sensations plateaued a little, and for the first time Amy
could take a real breath.

“Okay, love?” he asked, in a voice
that managed to convey tenderness despite his obvious urgency.

“Yeah,” she gasped, still rocking
against him—just more slowly now. “Sorry. Freaked out.”

He bent forward over her again so
that his head was hovering at her shoulder. “Look at me,” he whispered gently.

She found enough energy to turn her
head, and he kissed her as soon as she did. His kiss was sweet and slow and
needy and somehow soothing. Amy used her mouth to cling to his lips for as long
as she could.

When he finally drew back and started
pumping into her more rapidly, he said, “Try to take full breaths.”

She forced herself to steady her
breathing, closing her eyes and trying not to whimper as she got closer and
closer to the edge.

“Good. You don’t have to control it. Not
with me. Just let go.” His words were encouraging and soothing, but she could
tell he had to struggle to keep the vibrator in position.

She breathed in and jerked against
him frantically. Breathed out and came hard, before she knew it was coming.

She didn’t scream this time, just
released a long moan that was low, broken, and wild. Her body thrashed
uncontrollably as the intense pleasure swept her up in a hot rush. Usually, at
this point, Owen would freeze, cry out in release, and come with her.

But he didn’t. He kept thrusting
against her clenching muscles, kept pushing the vibrator against her with
agonizing insistence. He did cry out—but it was from effort, not pleasure.

Before she could collect her control,
another orgasm rose directly on the heels of the first. The delicious spasms
started anew. Pleasure that was only slightly less intense washed over her in
another wave, and she bit her bottom lip so hard it hurt.

Amy saw bright spots of light,
whether she closed her eyes or left them open, and she was making pathetic
whines and moans that sounded like she was enduring torture. She couldn’t keep
her body still, couldn’t keep from writhing as the second peak passed, and she
began to come down again.

Owen had been practically roaring
with his attempt to stop himself from coming but, as her muscle contractions
eased up, he must have found enough control to murmur thickly, “That’s right,
baby. Once more. Come for me once more.”

It was perhaps the most erotic thing Amy
had ever heard in her life.

And combined with the merciless
vibrations against her throbbing clit and his ceaseless drives against her
g-spot, it pushed her over one more time.

As the third orgasm slammed into her,
her throat seemed to close up, and her mouth opened in a silent cry. He was
leaning over her now, pushing her forward and down, and she thrashed helplessly
beneath his weight and his strength.

He roared out again as her inner
muscles clenched hard around his cock. His fingers bit into her skin, and Amy
thought for a moment that she might black out.

She didn’t, but she couldn’t take any
more of this torturous ecstasy, so she summoned just enough energy to swat the
vibrator away. He dropped it on the bed and held her body tightly with both
arms.

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.
Couldn’t think. Fell forward onto her stomach, and as she did Owen’s cock slid
out of her.