Going Under

“Let’s try again,” Ryan said, amused. There was a hint of laughter in his voice. “Brooklyn, spread your legs. And this time, keep them open.”


“Just fuck me already!” I cried. “I can’t take it!”

Ryan chuckled and kissed me softly on the lips. “I’m going to make up for those three years we were apart, Brooke,” he said after a moment. “I’ve been telling you that for a year already. You should know. So I really need you to hold on to the headboard. And that’s not a request.”

I held on and spread my legs again, gasping at the feel of his finger circling my clit once more. He rubbed me endlessly, plunging his finger into me before taking it out to stimulate my clit again. I moaned and writhed, feeling my passion build quickly, afraid I would come too soon before we had intercourse. I tensed, fighting the sweeping pleasure.

“Brooke,” Ryan said. “We have all the time in the world, you know.”

I nodded, watching as his face dipped lower between my legs. I bucked involuntarily, twisting my fingers in his hair while his tongue lapped me, his fingers plunging inside of me, heightening my pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” I begged, pushing my hips into his face.

“I’ve no plans to,” he replied, the words humming between my legs. He drew my clit into his mouth, sucking gently but firmly, fingering me relentlessly until I was begging for release.

I came hard, gripping his hair. I knew I was hurting him; he grunted but never took his mouth off of my delicate tissues until my body relaxed, languid and soft in the afterglow.

He hovered over me once more, staring at my face, into my eyes, and I thought I saw the guilt vanish from his own. Just like that. It disappeared to a faraway place.

“Marry me.”

My mouth dropped open. He grinned.

“You’re asking me now? While I’m naked in bed? After you just made me come?” I asked. “What kind of engagement story is that?!”

Ryan laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got a whole thing planned out. It’s been planned out for two months, but I couldn’t wait. I had to ask you now.”

“What do you have planned out?” I asked.

“Yeah right,” he replied, nudging my legs apart and sliding into me before I could protest.

“Marry me,” he whispered, finding a slow, gentle rhythm. “Will you?”

“Oh my God, Ryan,” I breathed, clutching his shoulders. “Now you’re asking me while you’re inside of me?”

He nodded, thrusting hard and deep, and I arched my body, crying out at the pain and pleasure of it.

“Marry me,” he said again.

I nodded.

“Say it, Brooklyn,” Ryan demanded. “I need to hear you say it.”

I moaned, grasping at his back, grazing his skin with my fingernails.

“Say it, Brooklyn,” he whispered, stroking me softly.

I felt something strange stirring. I couldn’t understand it fully, but it felt like another orgasm. I’d never had orgasms so close together, but I felt like I would have one now, and I also felt like I wouldn’t survive it. It was building large and demanding in my legs and stomach, threatening to push out my tendons and bones, my organs and tissues. I struggled to escape it.

“No, Brooklyn,” Ryan said. “Let me love you.”

I whimpered.

“Tell me you’ll marry me, Brooklyn,” Ryan said. “Right now.”

“Ryan . . .”

I screamed at the force of it. The pleasure, so great that it crashed up my body and down. Up and down, a tidal wave that swept up my fiancé, drowned him in the pleasure, too, until he was moaning along with me, gasping on the crest of the wave before we tumbled over. Down, down, down, shaking from the after effects, the tiny ripples of pleasure that were reluctant to recede altogether.

Ryan lay on top of me spent. I didn’t mind the full weight of his body, though it made it slightly harder to breathe. I stroked his sweat-slicked back, feeling his lips on my neck, raining the lightest kisses that said, “Thank you.”

“Ryan?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll marry you.”

I felt his grin on my neck. “You’re not just saying that because of the nuclear orgasm I gave you, are you?”

I giggled. “Well, the nuclear orgasm is a very good reason to get hitched. I admit.”

His fingers snaked down my sides to tickle my ribs. I screamed and squirmed.

“Okay, I’m not just marrying you for the nuclear orgasm!” I squealed.

He stopped tickling me. “Then why are you marrying me, Brooke?” He wrapped his arms around me and rolled over, pulling me on top of him.

I looked down at his face and smiled. “Because I love you.”

“Just like that?” he asked.

“Just like that.”





End



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