Filthy Memory

The morning light filtered in through the blinds in soft slats, catching the faint sheen of sweat still clinging to their bare skin. The air was warm, heavy with the scent of sleep and sex. Autumn lay curled against Ryan, their bodies completely tangled, skin to skin, his arm draped over her waist, his palm resting low on her belly. He was already half hard against the curve of her ass, and when she shifted slightly, she felt him twitch. A low sound rumbled in his chest--half groan, half sigh--and he dipped his head to press a lazy kiss to her shoulder. Then another. Then his lips parted, tongue dragging lightly along her skin.

She smiled sleepily, eyes still closed. "Already?"

"Couldn't help it," he murmured, voice gravel-thick with sleep and want. "Woke up hard. You're warm and naked and... fuck."

He rolled his hips forward just enough to grind against her, slow and dirty. She exhaled a shaky breath, pressing back into him.

"You're insatiable," she whispered, grinning.

"You're impossible not to want," he countered, sliding his hand up her body, fingers grazing her breast. He cupped it lazily, thumb brushing over her nipple until it peaked against his touch.

She turned to face him, hair falling across her face, and he caught her mouth in a deep kiss. His hand stayed at her breast, kneading gently while his cock pressed against her thigh, hot and thick and already leaking.

Autumn moaned into the kiss, arching her body into his. "God, we didn't even sleep that long."

"Don't need sleep," he muttered, kissing down her jaw. "Need you."

He kissed her neck, then lower, moving over her with slow hunger. Her legs fell open automatically as he slid down, and when his breath ghosted over her core, she whimpered.

"You're already wet for me," he murmured, voice reverent. "Fucking perfect."

He licked her once--broad, slow, deliberate--and she gasped, hips jerking. He did it again, teasing her clit with the flat of his tongue, then circling it slowly until her thighs trembled against his shoulders.

"Ryan--fuck," she moaned.

He looked up at her, eyes dark, lips already glistening. "Wanna make you come on my tongue... but I also want your mouth on me."

He climbed back up and hovered over her, lips brushing hers as he asked, "Sixty-nine?"

Her stomach fluttered. She nodded. They shifted together, unhurried but eager. Ryan lay back, pulling her gently over him until she was straddling his face, her knees on either side of his head. She bent forward, taking him into her mouth as his hands gripped her hips and pulled her down.

He groaned the second she wrapped her lips around his cock--deep and low, vibrating against her. And then his mouth was on her again, tongue working with a slow, relentless rhythm that made her moan around him. The contrast was dizzying. Her mouth full of him, the weight and heat of it, while his tongue moved in slow, sinful circles against her clit. He sucked softly, then harder, just enough to make her cry out, pulling back to pant before going deeper again.

Ryan bucked into her mouth when she hollowed her cheeks, taking him deeper, licking up the underside as she stroked the base with one hand. His hands tightened on her hips, fingers digging into her skin, holding her down as he devoured her. He pushed a finger inside her--slow, curling--then another, matching the rhythm of his tongue. She moaned, knees starting to shake, and nearly lost her rhythm on his cock.

"Good girl," he groaned against her, tongue flicking fast. "Taste so fucking sweet. You're close, aren't you?"

She nodded against him, lips dragging up his length, then sinking down again with a moan. Her body was on fire, every nerve tuned to him, the way he licked and sucked and teased, how he always knew exactly how to undo her. Her orgasm built hard and fast, hot pressure winding tight in her belly.

"I'm gonna--Ryan--fuck--"

He didn't stop. He held her in place, tongue moving faster, fingers thrusting deeper until she came with a cry, her body trembling violently over him. She gasped, rocking against his mouth as the waves tore through her. Even as she came, she didn't stop stroking him, her hand moving faster, her lips wrapping around his tip, tongue flicking the head. He groaned again--deep, guttural--and when she sucked harder, sliding him all the way down, he broke.

"Shit--Autumn--"

His hips jerked up, cock twitching as he spilled into her mouth, warm and thick. She swallowed every drop, moaning as she rode the last of her orgasm, both of them undone and shaking. She finally slid off him with a soft gasp, collapsing onto the sheets beside him. Their skin was flushed, breathing ragged, sweat sticking to every inch of them. Ryan reached over, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her forehead.

"Best. Wake up. Ever."

She laughed breathlessly. "You say that every time."

He grinned, nuzzling into her neck. "That's because every time it's true."

Autumn lay curled against Ryan's chest, one leg draped over his, her head tucked beneath his chin. Their bodies were still slick with heat, their breaths slowly settling into sync. Outside the window, the world was already awake, but neither of them moved. Not yet. He traced soft circles on her back, his other hand lazily stroking her hip. She felt boneless, melted into him, and he held her like he never wanted to let go. She was just about to doze off again when he spoke, voice low and rumbling.

"You know," he murmured, lips brushing her hair, "I don't think I'll ever get tired of that."

Autumn smiled sleepily against his skin. "Mmm. Me neither."

"But as perfect as that was..." he continued, and she could feel the grin in his voice now, "... it's still not my favorite."

She tilted her head up, curious. "No?"

He looked down at her, his eyes dark and soft all at once. "Nah. You wanna know my favorite?"

"Tell me," she whispered.

He kissed her nose. "That first night... when I finally got you under me. How wrecked you were when I told you I wasn't stopping until you begged."

Autumn flushed instantly, her breath catching. He didn't touch her differently--still just stroking her back, her hip--but his words hit like a slow flame.

"God, the way you looked," he murmured, eyes dragging down her body as he remembered. "Hair a mess, cheeks flushed, hands pinned to your bed. You kept trying to be quiet, and then you broke. You begged so pretty, baby."

She bit her lip. Heat started building low in her belly again, like a slow, lazy ache.

"And then there was the mirror," he went on, voice darker now, slower. "You remember that?"

She nodded, cheeks burning.

"I had you on your knees, told you not to look away. Made you watch while I fucked you slow--told you how good your body looked taking all of me. You couldn't stop staring. You were dripping down your thighs and still trying to hold out."

Her breathing hitched. His words were working faster than any touch, seeping into her skin.

"I loved how desperate you got that night. You wanted to come so bad, and I wouldn't let you. I just kept talking to you. Kept telling you how ruined you looked. How beautiful."

Autumn swallowed hard. "You're doing it again..."

"Doing what?" he asked innocently, brushing his thumb over her hip.

"Turning me on without touching me."

He chuckled, dipping his head to kiss her throat. "You make it too easy."

She was already squirming closer, thighs pressed tight, and he noticed immediately. His hand slid down just slightly, not between her legs--yet--but close enough to make her twitch.

"You want more?" he whispered.

"I don't think I ever stop," she breathed.

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. "Want me to keep going?"

She nodded.

"Remember the night I tied your wrists behind your back and edged you for hours? You were shaking. Couldn't even speak by the time I finally let you come."

"Ryan--"

His voice dropped to a growl. "You squirted all over my chest. I've never been so fucking proud."

She moaned softly, trying not to roll her hips against his thigh, but her body betrayed her. Her nipples had hardened again, and the ache between her legs had returned, throbbing with need.

"And that day on your knees," he added, voice like velvet. "You looked up at me with your mouth open, hands behind your back, letting me use your throat. You loved it. You made the filthiest sounds and I swear I almost came just from watching you."

Autumn whimpered, thighs clenching. "You're gonna kill me."

He kissed her temple sweetly. "I'm just getting started."

"Fuck," she breathed, half laughing, half desperate.

He leaned close, lips brushing her ear. "I'm going to make you say every dirty thing you've ever wanted me to do to you. And then I'm going to do them."

Her breath hitched hard. "You're not even touching me and I'm already--"

"I know," he murmured, finally slipping his hand between her thighs, finding her soaked. "God, baby. You're shaking."

She nodded, eyes wide, lips parted.

"Good. I want you trembling before I'm even inside you."

And then he rolled her onto her back, slow and smooth, mouth already moving down her chest. This time, he planned to take his time. And this time, she'd beg without a single command. Autumn's breath caught as Ryan rolled over her, the sheets rustling softly around them. He didn't rush. His hands moved with quiet purpose, one sliding beneath her knee to draw her leg higher, the other gliding up her side, fingertips barely grazing her skin. He kissed her collarbone, then lower, his mouth soft and warm, his stubble dragging enough to make her squirm.

But it was his voice that undid her.

"You remember the time I made you sit on my face for so long you couldn't walk straight after?" he whispered against the swell of her breast, tongue circling slowly around her nipple. "You kept trying to crawl away and I wouldn't let you."

She arched into his mouth, a breathless moan slipping out. He gave her nipple a firm suck, then released it with a soft pop.

"Every time you begged to stop," he murmured, "I just told you to come again."

His hand wandered down her stomach, slow and warm, fingers teasing just above her navel.

"You remember how messy you got? How loud? You completely soaked me. My mouth, my chest, the bed. You looked down at me like you couldn't believe I still wanted more."

"I couldn't believe it," she whispered, voice shaky.

"I could," he said, kissing down her ribs. "You're always so fucking responsive. So greedy for it."

He knelt between her legs, pushing them apart gently, and settled between her thighs like he belonged there. He kissed the inside of one knee, then trailed upward--soft, slow, unbearably teasing.

"Then there was that night we didn't even make it to the bed," he said, lips grazing the top of her thigh. "You were painting. Covered in color. I dragged you down to the floor and fucked you with my fingers until you were moaning my name like it was the only word you knew."

He looked up at her, eyes smoldering.

"You begged me to stop teasing. You said, 'Ryan, I need you now.'"

"I did," she breathed, hips rising toward his mouth, chasing him.

"You were so wrecked," he murmured, kissing the crease of her thigh. "And I was so fucking hard just watching you lose it. God, baby, the way you shake when you come..."

His fingers finally brushed her folds, dragging slowly through the slick heat. She gasped, hips jerking.

"That's what I mean," he said, grinning darkly. "You're already so wet. Just from remembering."

He slid one finger into her--slow, deep--then another, curling them just enough to make her moan. His mouth followed, lips kissing lower, his breath hot against her swollen clit.

"You remember the mirror," he repeated, his voice muffled now against her skin. "I told you to look at yourself. Told you to watch what a good little slut you were for me."

Her hands fisted the sheets, thighs trembling.

"And you did. You watched yourself fall apart. You watched your own face while I ruined you."

She cried out when his tongue finally touched her--one slow, firm lick that made her hips buck off the bed.

"I could spend hours down here," he whispered, licking again. "You taste like everything I've ever wanted."

He flicked his tongue over her clit, slow and steady, while his fingers curled inside her. His other hand slid up her torso to palm her breast, thumb circling her nipple again.

"You want more?" he asked, his voice pure sin.

"God--yes, Ryan, please."

"Then listen to me," he murmured. "Listen to all the things I've loved doing to you."

She nodded frantically, gasping as he began again.

"You, naked in my hoodie, grinding on my lap while I told you exactly how I was going to fuck you. You bent over the kitchen counter. Moaning into your arm while I held your hips and pounded you slow. You in the backseat of my car, trying not to make a sound while I made you come with my hand."

Every word landed like fire on her skin.

"You touching yourself while I watched. Trying to do it just how I said. And then crying when I made you stop. You squirming with a plug inside you at dinner, begging me with your eyes. You begging me to fuck your throat. And when I did--you loved every second of it."

Her moans grew louder with every memory, body rocking against his face, thighs trembling around his head.

"I've never wanted anyone like this," he growled. "No one's ever made me this fucking obsessed."

She came hard, back arching, a cry ripped from her throat as the words and his mouth and his hands collided in white-hot pleasure. He held her through it, licking her through every twitch and spasm, fingers staying deep until she couldn't take it anymore. She collapsed against the mattress, panting, shaking, eyes glassy as she tried to breathe. Ryan crawled up her body and kissed her gently, tasting her on his lips.

"You still with me?" he asked, smirking.

Barely, she thought. Barely. But her smile said everything. Autumn lay sprawled across the sheets, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps, her body still trembling from the orgasm he'd coaxed from her with nothing but his mouth, his fingers, and that wicked voice. Her limbs were boneless, eyes glassy, lips parted. Ryan hovered above her, watching her with a look that was nothing short of reverent.

He kissed her shoulder, then the hollow of her throat, trailing his mouth lazily across her sweat-damp skin.

"Fuck, I love watching you come apart," he murmured.

She managed a breathless laugh. "You do it on purpose."

He smiled against her skin. "Every single time."

She stretched slightly, wincing as the aftershocks still fluttered through her. "I need... a second."

"Take two," he said softly, brushing hair from her face.

He lay beside her, pulling her close, letting her head rest on his arm while he lazily traced shapes over her thigh. They stayed that way for a moment, tangled together, warm and spent. But even as her breathing began to steady, she could feel him growing hard against her hip again, thick and hot and insistent.

"Ryan," she murmured.

"I know," he said with a grin. "I'm trying to be good. But you're making it really fucking difficult."

She smirked. "You're not exactly hiding it."

"I'm not trying to." His hand slid down her hip, gripping it firmly. "I want you again. Slow first. Then not so slow."

She didn't protest--couldn't. Her body was already aching for him again, that steady throb building back with nothing but the weight of his gaze and the heat of his skin on hers. He rolled her onto her back, nudging her legs apart with his knee, settling between them. His cock dragged along her slick folds, and they both moaned at the contact. He didn't push in yet--just rocked his hips, teasing them both.

"You remember that night in the shower?" he whispered against her neck. "I turned the water cold just to watch you shiver. Pressed you up against the wall. Fucked you until it fogged the glass."

She gasped, hips lifting into him.

"Or that time I made you wait all day," he continued, voice low and deliberate, "kept sending you filthy texts, told you exactly what I was going to do. By the time I touched you, you were already shaking."

"Ryan, please..."

That's all it took. He pushed in slow, inch by inch, stretching her open around him. They both groaned, the kind of sound made only when two bodies fit like that--perfect, familiar, desperate.

"Jesus, you're tight," he growled. "Still dripping for me."

He started to move--slow thrusts, deep and controlled, grinding his hips to hit every spot inside her. He kissed her as he moved, tongues tangling, hands gripping her thighs, then her wrists, pinning them above her head.

"You remember when I fucked you with your hands tied just like this?" he murmured against her lips. "You were begging, sobbing. Came so hard I thought you were going to pass out."

She whimpered, eyes rolling back. "Harder--"

He obeyed. His pace shifted, hips snapping harder into hers now, a sharp slap each time their bodies met. Her moans rose with every thrust.

"I love when you say it like that," he growled. "Like you need it. Like you'd take anything I gave you."

He leaned in close, biting gently at her jaw.

"You remember when I made you come just from choking you?" he whispered darkly. "Didn't even touch your pussy. You were soaked. Dripping down your thighs, gasping while I told you how fucking ruined you were."

She cried out beneath him, thighs squeezing his waist, her second orgasm building hard and fast.

"I want to bend you over the sink again," he rasped. "Want to fuck you so hard you can't speak. You remember that? Couldn't even form words after."

"Please--Ryan--I'm gonna--"

"Yeah?" he snarled, fucking her harder now, driving into her like it was the only thing keeping him alive. "Come on, baby. Give it to me. Let me feel you shake."

She shattered under him--crying out, back arching, body clenching down so tight he groaned, thrusting through it until her orgasm broke in waves around him.

He wasn't far behind. With a guttural sound, he slammed into her one last time, spilling deep inside her, his whole body tensing before he collapsed on top of her, gasping into her neck. For a long moment, the only sound was their breathing--ragged, uneven, like they'd both been wrecked from the inside out.

Finally, he kissed her jaw, still breathless. "Fuck... You're everything."

She smiled hazily, stroking his hair.

"And you," she murmured, "have a very, very filthy memory."

He chuckled, still buried inside her. "And we've only scratched the surface."