He slid his finger inside and smiled.
“Wet and ready,” he said, more to himself than to me.
I was; I was so wet and ready for him.
He added a second finger and started pumping, going in and out and watching me as I fell apart.
“I…” I was going to come.
I was. My heart stilled within the walls of my chest and my breath hitched on the wave of passion that swept over me.
He went faster, pumping into me, giving me a preview of what he was about to do to me with his cock inside me. Just as I cried out from the orgasmic burst of ecstasy that grabbed me and came right there for him, he spread my legs wider and replaced his fingers with his tongue.
He drank my release right up, licking and drinking like he couldn’t get enough and didn’t want to waste any. Then he licked the hard nub of my clit and stroked backward and forward, backward and forward in little bursts of delight that made me want to scream.
I writhed against the wall and squeezed his shoulders. The pleasure became too much and I couldn’t believe I was on the verge of coming again.
“Ryan…I…”
He didn’t stop, just kept going and going, now pressing his face right in so he could reach higher inside me, and God, I felt the pressure build up again.
It was like steam in a pressure cooker that had been left on for too long.
The steam, the passion, the pleasure, it all began to rise, and I was ready to explode. I was there, ready and…I did.
I came again—again, and more intensely. This time I wasn’t just writhing; I was gasping and my hair was wet with sweat.
I looked down at him as he moved and rose to stand. The bulge of his cock pressing against the front of his pants was evident. I was ready to wither away, but I wanted to give him pleasure too.
I tugged on his belt and tried to regain the confidence I’d previously exhibited.
“Your turn.”
“If you say so.” He smiled a wicked smile. “But, don’t go wild.”
When I looked at him, I no longer saw the man I’d teased the previous week about being a monk, about being in cop mode or dad mode.
This man before me was the rebel he’d spoken of at the beach. This was the version he had told me I would like, and I totally did.
Then he shocked me further by taking my hand and pressing it to the soft cotton of his pants so I could feel the hardness of his cock. I gasped and when he clasped my hands over it so I could squeeze, he groaned and I swore I would come again just from that.
“I’m ready to blow and I want to be inside you, so don’t go wild.”
“Can I go wild next time?” From some place within me, the quirkiness came back.
His eyes sparkled and he beamed down at me. “Next time? So I impressed you so much I get you twice and I haven’t even done anything yet?”
I thought about that. “You get to have me as many times as you want.” I leaned in for a kiss.
He reached for my breasts and played with my nipples.
“Brooke 101: you speak your mind when you’re turned on.”
I pulled in a breath and tried to hold back the emotion that swirled within me. He really was trying to know what I liked, to know me.
“Yeah, I tend to,” I confessed.
A look of triumph registered on his face and he leaned in to kiss me. I got lost in the kiss and the feel of his cock hardening in my hands and growing.
