He smiled as he spoke, easing his grip, sliding his hands around to grip her bottom.
She felt mesmerized by his words, so much so that when he took her ass in his hands and lifted her again, as if to signal her to move, she faltered.
“You were the most I ever had.”
He stopped, his eyes zooming back up to hers. They locked gazes, and in that moment, something shifted.
“The most ever,” she whispered again, in some kind of trance.
His hips lifted against her in reply, thrusting in the narrow space between them.
A sound escaped her, and it urged him on. He lifted her higher, slipping his cock inside her over and over, his eyes drifting down to the place where he entered her.
“You missed this, baby girl?” he ground out, his thrusts taking on an edge.
She felt the shift again, the shift she had wanted. Away from this unnerving talk and towards the abyss, the pure sensation, pleasure so strong it was almost pain.
In lieu of an answer, she angled down onto him on his next thrust, and he groaned again.
“Grind on me some more, baby girl. Show me that pink little cunt. Show me how much you missed this cock.”
His words were like gasoline, washing over the frantic nerves in her brain with a sweeping heat. She let it all drift away and came down onto his dick. She had missed it, her pussy so hungry for it, for him.
Her movements picked up, and she leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of his head as she tilted her hips to fuck him and grind against him at the same time, desperate for the friction. She needed to come now, needed it badly.
“Take it, Maggie. Take that cock,” he groaned, and that was exactly what she was doing. She was fucking taking what she needed from him, and the realization tipped her over the edge. She gyrated furiously, impaling herself over and over on top of him, oblivious to everything but the feeling of his cock pressed so deep inside her. His hands were everywhere. One gripped her thighs, squeezing her ass, sliding in between her cheeks to stroke the place only he had ever been. The other alternated between her breasts, stroking, pulling. She felt her orgasm come at her full force, felt a whisper of fear at the intensity of it, white hot and all consuming.
He must have sensed it too, because he lifted his head, taking a breast in his mouth and sucking deeply, one hand slipping between them to caress her clit. She cried out at the exquisiteness of the feeling, no longer in control of the movement of her body as she rode him. It was endless, and she felt wave after wave of sheer liquid pleasure roil over her like some kind of high.
“So fucking pretty when you come,” he groaned, as if to himself, and the curse made her buck again, the aftershocks of her orgasm sharp and tight. Her pussy milked him still, getting every last drop of her climax, holding him possessively inside her.
When she finally felt herself slide into the afterglow she sat up, leaning back and gripping his thighs for balance. His eyes went back to that place like she had known they would. He had always loved to fixate on his cock drilling into her. She lengthened her thrust against him, lifting off almost fully, hovering at the tip. It was about him now, it was about making him come meet her in that sacred place they had once known together.