eyes latch to mine and I don’t think her ex is anywhere in her mind right now. This is her and me and the tornado of desire that’s swallowing us up whole.
In answer, she digs her heels into my back so she can push up my body a bit, and rearranges herself, moving over my length. Her eyes are wide as she takes my tip inside herself and every bone in my body wants me to push inside of her all the way, but I don’t. I wait, letting her get used to this, to the size of me, the feel of me.
She digs her nails into my shoulders as she goes down lower, and my hands cup her arse, holding her there, supporting her, and just feeling her beautiful roundness. Lower, and my cock is half-buried in her and she feels so tight, she’s squeezing me in a way that is insanity inducing. Lower, and I see stars at how good this feels. She moans, tips her hips, rocking forward a little, and heat stains her cheeks. She’s riding a wave and I still, watching her pleasure herself on my body for the second time that night.
Her responsiveness is some kind of catnip.
Lower still, until finally all of me is deep inside her, so deep, and we are melded together completely. And now, only now, do I thrust, lifting my head to watch her as I hold her hips still and push, deeper, harder, and she cries out, biting down on her lip, moaning, and begging me for more, please, more.
‘Your wish is my command, baby.’ I laugh, but it’s husky because I haven’t felt this turned on since I was in school and sex was still new and illicit. I thrust into her again and again and her back hits the wall and her legs stay tight around me so our bodies are like one, and my hands hold her arse, her beautiful butt, and I ache for everything, for this and so much more. I find her nipple again, the other breast this time, and I take it in my mouth, rolling her with my tongue, then clamping my teeth down so she cries my name into the room and I laugh, but it comes out strained because my own wave is lifting me up and I feel like I’m losing any grip I have on my control.
I take a breath, keeping my mouth on her breast, listening—feeling—the fast rushing of her heart, the beating that’s like a cacophony of wild horses, pounding hard, and I know I’m the cause for that. Male pride swells inside of me, but I want more. I want to make her come again. And again and again and again. I want to give her so many orgasms that she can’t even remember her ex’s name. Or maybe it’s that I want to give her so many orgasms I forget what a lying bitch my ex-wife was, I forget how much of our relationship was a fake.
Nothing about this is fake.
Grace is giving me everything, all of herself, and this moment, even though it’s just physical, is the most intimate I’ve been with anyone in a long time.
Fuck. Stop thinking so much and just enjoy this!
I pull her away from the wall and cross to the bed; my legs are shaking, desire and adrenaline pumping through them. I drop her onto her back, falling with her so we don’t have to come apart at all, and the second she connects with the mattress I push into her again. She stares up at me, her eyes huge in her face as she looks at me, as though she’s high or drugged or completely blissed out.
I pull out of her so just my tip is teasing her clit and she pushes onto her elbows, her blonde hair falling over her face. ‘Don’t you dare stop,’ she demands, fixing me with a look that is at once frantic and totally desperate.
The fact she doesn’t mind showing how turned on she feels is another form of catnip.
‘Wasn’t going to,’ I promise, not sure I could, even if a thousand wild horses tried to drag me away from her.
‘I’m so close,’ she says, and her cheeks flush pink and her beautiful, full lower lip gets dragged between her teeth. The thing is, I don’t want this to be over yet, not even for a moment, and I think I’m at the edge of my control myself.
I keep my tip at her seam and she writhes beneath me, desperately trying to pull me back inside of her, the keening noises she’s making something my mind will replay often. My mouth drags down her body, finding the underside of her breast and flicking at it. She’s salty and sweet and my gut clenches with a wave of desire—more like a tsunami. Down I go, all the way, crouching off the edge of the bed and pulling on her legs, pulling her lower. I kiss her thighs, the skin there so soft and pale, creamy and raw.
She isn’t moaning now, but her breathing punctures the stillness of the night. She’s waiting. Waiting quietly, uncertainly.
I smile to myself as my hands curve over her thighs and separate her legs a little wider, clamping them where they are, and her beautiful sex is right there before me.
‘Jagger...’ My name falls out of her mouth—a plea, a question.
‘You’re close?’ I ask, my tongue running up her seam.
Her harsh intake of breath is loud and primal.
Her hands scrape as they run over the duvet, digging into it.
‘Uh huh,’ she exhales. I find her clit and suck it into my mouth and she cries out louder now, and I laugh—despite the fact I’m as hard as I can get, the fact we’re surrounded by thin walls and God knows who else on the other side of them doesn’t seem to have entered her head and I’m glad. I love her lack of self-consciousness.
I flick my tongue over her and she trembles beneath me—I kiss her harder, faster, my tongue tasting her until she explodes and I keep her legs right where they are, when she might have pulled herself away, because I want to enjoy every damned thing about her release. As she rides that wave, I push a finger inside of her and she bucks hard, her muscles squeezing me, and I groan then because my cock is more than a little jealous to be missing this party.
But there’s time. We’ve got all night. Just this one night...and I’m going to make it count.
HE IS SOME kind of sex god. Some kind of kinky, wild sex god. I can barely breathe. I think pleasure has taken up every square inch of my body, leaving little room for other optional extras such as oxygen and blood. No, the blood is there. It’s rushing through me, reaching every tiny little cell, filling me up with heat and fire and flame and need.
More need—how is that possible? It’s like I’m one of those stock market charts and every bloody release I get just pushes me down for a second before a new need swiftly kicks in and takes over.
I scramble onto my elbows so I can look at his dark blond head—between my legs—and I moan again because the sight of him like that should make me feel...squeamish or embarrassed, but it doesn’t.
‘You can just stay there all night,’ I joke, smiling like the cat who got the cream—the girl who got the best head in the world, at any rate.
He looks up my body, over the curves of my breast to my eyes, and he grins then drops his mouth to my clit while he’s watching me and I watch him as he lashes me again with his clever, clever tongue.
And I jerk because I’m so sensitive that the slightest touch feels like he’s attached live wires to me.
He eases up, kissing me instead, just a gentle, soft kiss, and then he stands.
His cock is so hard, so beautiful, and I stare at it, wanting him inside me even when my body is still
