Chapter 3: The Victory Lap
Nicole collapsed onto David’s chest, slick skin sliding against slick skin, her breath sawing ragged and hot against his neck. The air hung thick with the musky perfume of exertion and sex, a dense fog settling over the king-sized bed. Sweat pooled in the hollow of his throat, beaded on her collarbone. She could feel his heart hammering against her sternum, an echo of her own frantic pulse. Below her hips, his cock remained stubbornly hard, a thick, insistent presence against her abdomen even after she’d wrung three shuddering climaxes from her body while riding him.
"Fuck," David breathed, the word barely audible, rasping. His hands, finally freed from her iron grip, trembled slightly as they settled heavily on the swell of her hips, thumbs tracing the ridge of her pelvic bone. "Nicole... Jesus Christ."
She lifted her head slowly, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes were wide, pupils blown black, reflecting the dim city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling window. His expression held a dazed awe mixed with raw, unspent need. She saw the question flicker before he asked it. "Still...?"
A slow, predatory smile curved her lips. She shifted her weight, her inner thighs sticky against his. "Hard as fucking granite, David," she murmured, her voice husky with spent pleasure and latent power. She deliberately ground her pubic bone down onto the rigid length trapped beneath her. He hissed, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Seems the champion," she emphasized the word, watching his reaction, "isn't done with her prize."
He groaned, a sound of pure surrender and desperate want. "Christ, you're gonna kill me."
"Good way to go," she countered, her smile widening. Her hand slid between them, fingers wrapping around his girth. She squeezed, feeling the hot, veined steel pulse in her grasp. He bucked his hips involuntarily. "Look at you. Years. It's been years, David. And you walk back into my goddamn condo, step onto my mat... thinking what? That time had softened me? Made me forget?"
He shook his head, sweat flinging from his dark hair. "Never thought that. Never." His gaze held hers, intense. "Just... fuck... wanted to feel it again. Feel you. That fire."
She pumped him slowly, deliberately, her thumb swirling over the slick, swollen head, gathering the pearly bead of pre-cum that welled there. "Feel this, David?" Her voice dropped lower, intimate and dangerous. "This is what thinking about you pinning me that second round did. That fuckin' frustrated growl you made when I slipped the choke."
She remembered it vividly. The flash of surprise and competitive fury in his eyes when she’d reversed his hold, the guttural sound that vibrated against her back before she’d dragged them both off the mat. That sound had ignited something primal deep within her core.
His breath hitched as she leaned down, her breasts brushing his chest. "You wanted to dominate me," she breathed against his lips. "Prove something. But this," she squeezed him again, harder, feeling him throb, "this is the price of losing."
"Take it," he gasped, his hips lifting off the bed, thrusting shallowly against her fist. "Fucking take it, Nicole. Claim it. Claim me."
She didn't hesitate. Releasing his cock, she braced her hands on his chest, her powerful thighs flexing. She rose up, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. Her cunt, swollen and slick from her previous orgasms, glistened in the low light. She reached down, guiding him, the blunt head nudging insistently against her entrance, slick with her own arousal and his pre-cum.
"Oh god," David choked out, eyes fixed on where they were about to join.
With a low, guttural sound of pure possession, Nicole sank down. There was no slow easing this time. She impaled herself on him in one powerful, downward stroke, taking his entire length deep into her still-fluttering core. The sheer, sudden fullness punched the air from her lungs. He cried out, a raw, animal sound, his back arching off the bed.
"Fuck! Nicole!" His hands flew to her hips, gripping them like vices.
She threw her head back, a shudder rippling through her. The stretch was exquisite, brutal. He was buried impossibly deep, thicker even than she remembered, the sensation overwhelming after the intensity of her earlier climaxes. Her inner muscles clenched spasmodically around his invading heat, a reflexive pulse that made them both gasp.
"Still the champion?" she demanded, her voice thick. She began to move. Not the furious, driving pace of before, but a slow, deliberate, grinding descent. She rose up until just the head remained inside her, feeling the delicious drag along her sensitive inner walls, then slammed back down, swallowing him whole again. Her pelvis rotated, rolling against him, ensuring his cock scraped against every nerve ending within her.
"Champion," David rasped, the word ripped from him. "Fuck, yes. God, you feel... Christ, Nicole, your pussy..." His eyes were glazed, locked on the hypnotic rhythm of her body consuming his. "So fucking tight. Like a goddamn fist."
She rode him with relentless, powerful strokes. Her strong core muscles flexed, driving her down onto him again and again. Sweat slicked her back, tracing the defined lines of her shoulders, dripping between her heavy breasts. The wet, obscene slap of flesh on flesh filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breathing and low, guttural groans. She could feel the coiled tension in his abdomen beneath her, the desperate flex of his thighs as he fought the urge to thrust up and meet her.
"Look at me," she commanded, slowing her pace to a deep, grinding roll. Her dark eyes locked onto his, burning with intensity. "Look at what you lost to. What owns this cock right now."
He stared up at her, mesmerized, his expression a mixture of agony and ecstasy. She controlled the depth, the angle, the speed. She tilted her hips, grinding her clit hard against the base of his shaft with every downward stroke. Sparks ignited behind her eyelids. She rode the edge, letting the demanding pressure build, denying herself the quick release, making him feel her control, her dominance, her ownership.
"Tell me," she demanded, her voice rough. "Tell me who owns this."
"You!" The word was a hoarse shout. "Fuck, Nicole, you do! Champion!"
The raw submission in his voice, the sheer desperation, was the spark that ignited the powder keg. The demanding pressure on her clit, the deep, thick fullness, the visual of him utterly undone beneath her – it detonated within her. Her orgasm ripped through her with shocking violence. Her body arched backward, a silent scream forming on her lips as her inner walls clamped down on his cock in a series of brutal, rhythmic spasms. Her vision whited out, the city lights dissolving into blinding static.
David roared. The fierce, rhythmic milking of her climax was too much. His control shattered. He thrust up wildly, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed, jetting thick ropes of hot cum deep inside her contracting channel. She felt the scalding flood, the frantic pulse against her deepest point, and it triggered another wave, a secondary tremor that wracked her trembling body. She collapsed forward, her forehead resting on his heaving chest, both of them slick, breathing like runners who’d crossed a brutal finish line.
They lay tangled, motionless except for the frantic rise and fall of their chests. The scent of sex was overwhelming, primal. Nicole could feel his softening cock still nestled deep within her, his release a warm, intimate presence. His hand moved weakly, tracing the curve of her spine. She could hear the thudding of his heart gradually slowing against her ear.
"Still... think you could... take me?" she mumbled, the words slurred with exhaustion and lingering pleasure.
David let out a shaky breath that was almost a laugh. His fingers tightened slightly on her back. "Nicole," he murmured, his voice wrecked, filled with a strange mix of exhaustion, awe, and something deeper. "Right now... I wouldn't even know where to fucking start." He paused, his thumb tracing a slow circle. "But Christ... I want to learn."