Read Curio Vignettes 04 Confession for Free Online

whatever compass he lacks in the
outside world, his prowess here says my body’s a landscape he’s memorized, down
to the last blade of grass and wrinkle of tree bark.
    I say, “I want you on top.”
    He holds me tight to his waist with a strong arm, never
breaking our bond as he turns me onto my back and plants his knees between mine.
I hug my legs to his sides, eager for him to lead, thrilled to be cast in his
shadow. I stroke his back as his hips begin to pump.
    “Like our first time together,” he says.
    I remember it perfectly, us in this bed, him on top, the
first time I felt a cock push inside me. And still only one man’s gifted me
that sensation.
    “You excite me now as much as you did then,” Didier tells
me.
    The thought thrills me in turn. I fist his hair, holding his
head. The possessiveness goes both ways, it seems, as his rhythm grows quicker,
fiercer.
    “Take me.”
    He locks his arms against my ribs, edges his knees wider.
    “Touch yourself,” he says.
    So often that task falls to his capable fingertips. But he
must feel, as I do, that no one is being spoiled tonight. We’re catering to
each other, as equals.
    I slip my hand between us and rub my clit with two fingers.
He watches, fascinated by my hand or our point of penetration, or perhaps even
by the silver bracelet he clasped around my wrist. The charms brush my belly
and tinkle softly.
    “Yes.” His voice sounds deeper and shallower at once.
Strained, just as his handsome face has become. His brows have drawn tight and
his eyes have narrowed, nearing that expression he wears when his role for an
evening has been wrapped and the moment for pursuing his own pleasure has come.
So many times I’ve glimpsed that look over my shoulder, when he owns me from
behind. My favorite position, because of how commanding he looks and feels. But
tonight’s not about that. Only us. Only this.
    I’ve gone kinky places with this man—kinky to me, anyhow—but
tonight is hotter than any game we’ve played, his hands and mouth and eyes more
arousing than any toy or tie or borrowed persona. What I feel for this man
magnifies my awareness, so I feel every slick inch of his cock claiming me,
hear every breath at his lips, feel every thump of his pulse.
    My pleasure is gelling, going from a promise to a looming
reality. It’s gathering in my core like a tangle of heat and muscle, growing
mean and demanding.
    “I’m close.”
    “Good.” He takes me harder for a flurry of thrusts,
reactivating my fantasies of harsh, adversarial sex. “Good.”
    I watch his chest and face, his arms. I watch Didier, the
most extraordinary person I know, giving me all this. Everything a man should
be—kind and sensitive and passionate and dripping with lust. He groans each
time his body meets mine, the noise more ragged and rough with every push.
    “Didier.”
    “Yes. Come for me.”
    My hand is a blur, his hips racing to match. The bubble of
my pleasure grows bigger, bigger and I tease my clit, aching to burst. I say
his name again, and one last time, just as the orgasm arrives. A long, harsh,
exquisite release, drawn out by my fingers and his slowing thrusts. For sweet,
endless seconds, the world is just his skin and mine. Two bodies brought
together by unlikely circumstances, kept together by affection. By love.
    As I come down, I realize something. He smoothes the hair
from my face and I stare into his eyes, feeling the pulse of his swollen cock.
    “You didn’t come.”
    “Not yet,” he says.
    “You promised you would when I did.”
    A cruel little grin, chased by a kiss. “I did not say
exactly which time I would be joining you for.”
    I shoot him a look full of false disapproval. “Tricky.”
    He drops to his elbows, claiming my mouth. Fondly at first,
the kiss turning starker as my bliss steadily evaporates to make room for a
fresh wave of desire.
    This is my man. This is our bed, for tonight. Someday
this will be our bed for keeps, and no one else’s. This