She nodded emphatically, not sure how he knew.
But he was right.
It felt like it was building to a crescendo and she was starting to need the release. His dick felt so good. Being possessed by him completely felt so good.
His body.
His voice.
The smell of him.
Cullen Sharpe’s cock is fucking my wet pussy. His huge dick feels amazing.
“But you’re not going to come, Ivy. Not until I tell you.”
“I, I can’t—“
He stopped fucking her for a moment, his dick still inside her, but his body still as he whispered. “You can and you will. I tell you when to come.”
“Yes, Sir.” She grit her teeth as her body broke into sweat.
Now he was moving slowly again, and—Oh God—it felt even better. It felt like magic, and her insides were sending out pleasure signals, over and over and she was so wet.
She wanted nothing more than to come right then.
But he was torturing her, teasing her, fucking her so slowly as he whispered in her ear.
“Now,” he said, “come on my dick. Gush for me.” His hips swiveled up and down, back and forth, and his hand slid underneath her leg, his long fingers stimulating her clit.
The climax hit her hard and she cried out in pure pleasure, pure sexual ecstasy. How could one thing feel this good?
Her entire body became rigid as she came, and came, and she was gushing on him.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “That’s very good. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do for me.”
She moaned again, letting her hips go loose as he began pounding her again.
“Now I’m going to come,” he told her.
She could hear his voice change. He was forgetting himself. It didn’t sound so formal, so restrained. He began hammering her from behind, and her butt stung and her pussy dripped, and she came again.
“Ivy,” he whispered over and over again in her ear as she felt his cock releasing everything deep into her. “Oh, Ivy. Oh, Ivy.” He repeated it as he crammed himself deeper inside, sending all of his seed inside her.
He lay atop her like that for a long while, his body shuddering, his breath coming deep, as he whispered in her ear.
Finally, Cullen rolled off her and lay staring at the ceiling. She turned her head to look at him.
He was just staring upwards, and Ivy suddenly knew that this intimacy between them had broken something inside him, opened him up in a way.
“Can I touch you?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he whispered back.
She saw tears in his eyes, but she didn’t comment for a long time. She pushed his shirt up over his belly and slid her hand beneath it to feel his warm, soft skin. And then she stroked his chest softly as she watched him stare at the ceiling.
“That woman outside was not an ex-girlfriend,” he said. “In fact, I hardly know her.”
This strange admission shocked Ivy, but she decided to act like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Oh,” Ivy said, still softly stroking his chest with her fingertips.
“She has a sister who needs a very complicated surgical procedure, and that woman is convinced I’m the only one who can perform it.”
Ivy couldn’t believe that Cullen was opening up like this. Her heart began beating faster and faster, and her cheeks tingled. “But you don’t want to do it,” she said.
He shook his head. He still hadn’t looked at her.
“I can’t do it,” he replied.
“Why not?” she asked.
He didn’t answer for a long time.
Well, there you go, Ivy. You had to keep asking questions and now you’ve gone and probably ruined it. He’s going to clam up and withdraw.
But Cullen started talking again. “I performed a very similar surgery some time ago, and…” he seemed to struggle to find the words. “It…did not have a good outcome.”
Ivy licked her lips, searching for the right response. “Does that mean you can’t try again with a different patient?”
“You don’t understand,” he said, finally turning his head and meeting her gaze. His eyes were terribly haunted, like empty orbs. “I killed her.”
A chill went deep through Ivy’s soul at his confession. “Cullen—“
“I made the simplest mistake and she died.” He grimaced, swallowing, and then looked up at the ceiling once more. “My stupidity cost her everything. I lost her—I lost someone who mattered very much to me.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Ivy said.
He just shook his head again. He didn’t bother to try and hide the pain that was etched on his face. “It’s over,” he said softly. “I’ll never perform surgery again. And that,” he said, finally regaining control of his emotions, “is why I can’t have that woman standing in front of my house all day long. She needs to let it go, and find someone else to do that operation on her sister.”
Ivy sighed, wishing she could say something to help, something to give him comfort.
But he was lost in his own private hell and there was no way in. It was amazing enough that he’d told her this much about his life.