And she is so, so fucking close.
Those whimpers.
I devour her with urgency. Faster. Harder.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.”
I hold her to me as she thrashes under me. Her legs shudder until finally, an almighty moan rips from her throat as she climaxes against my tongue.
And damn, if this isn’t the best sensation of my life.
TWENTY-NINE
Lucy
If he isn’t the sexiest man on the planet, then kill me now.
I melt into the bed, utterly spent. “That was incredible,” I say with a nervous laugh as my body continues to ride out the orgasm aftershocks.
JP stands at the edge of the bed, his dark eyes smoldering with lust as his rock-hard cock pulses in his fist. His gaze pierces into me, never wavering as he pumps himself slowly up and down.
“Tell me about it,” he says throatily with a smirk that tells me I’m in trouble. “Nothing is better than feeling you come all over my mouth.”
Another jittery giggle escapes me, but it comes out all wonky, like some bizarre animal mating call. Damn, this man is dirty. He was right when he said he doesn’t do anything by half.
I stare up at him for a moment, my breath caught in my throat as I drink in his whole intimidating package—every sculpted muscle, each chiseled line, every powerful move of his hand around his shaft.
Watching this man pleasure himself is more arousing than anything I’ve ever seen. Fact.
“See what you do to me, Lucy?” he says in a low voice. “This is all for you.”
God. As I squirm under his gaze, my toes curl so tight, I swear they’re going to break.
I need to channel my inner Wonder Woman here, but instead, I’m a shivering mass of nerves and sweat.
He grabs hold of my legs, pushing them wider and wrapping them around his waist. He has me caged beneath him and, as if to prove it, his thick cock nudges at my entrance, teasing and taunting until the ache between my legs is unbearable.
“Please,” I moan, my voice trembling with need.
My hips gyrate against his, pushing him closer and closer to my opening. His thick arousal throbs between us, the sensation sending shivers running down my body like a sexy stun gun.
Damn tease.
“You’re dying for my cock, aren’t you?” he says in a husky voice that makes goose bumps prickle along my skin.
“Yes! Yes!” I cry out. What a stupid question.
“Have you fantasized about this moment? How it would feel?”
“Yes,” I reply, practically panting. It doesn’t even sound like me.
“Have you touched yourself with thoughts of me?”
I squirm, my already hot cheeks reaching full boil. A, I’m too embarrassed to answer that, and B, my bedroom talk appears to be limited to “Yes.”
“I won’t give you what you want until you tell me the truth.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
