For some reason, this is harder for me to confess than any of the truths I’ve given him so far. “Yes.”
“That’s my girl.” He guides himself against my underwear, notching between my folds, and pumps his hips forward, dragging against my clit. The overwhelming flood of sensations lifts me off the freaking mattress. “Look at you. Soaked all the way through.” The way he holds my knees gives me a gloriously unobstructed view of those abs hard at work, flexing with each thrust of his hips. He seems entranced by the way our bodies slide together.
A dark lock of hair falls onto his forehead.
What was his ex-girlfriend thinking? She must cry herself to sleep every night remembering how she gave him up. Her loss is my gain?—
He drops forward onto his elbows, dragging his tongue down my neck, kissing and sucking until he’s back at my breasts once more. It’s all too much. Every sensation. Every emotion.
I’m so close. Too close. Falling over the edge.Flying.
His eyes shoot to mine, pupils blown out. “Did you just come?”
“Yes?”
“Good girl.” He doesn’t stop there and stick it in. He keeps going, as if we have all the time in the world.
In one fell swoop, my shorts and underwear are gone. When my knees try to close, he pushes them apart once more. His palm flattens on my stomach, right above my pubic bone, his thumb casually stroking above my clit. It is infuriating and amazing at the same time. “Yes?” he rasps.
“Yes.”
His thumb barely grazes over my slit, and I’m back to squirming all over again.
Each leisurely stroke brings me that much closer to the edge once more. He dips a finger inside, curling upwards. His thumb works in strokes, his other finger pumping in and out before he adds a second. “Look at all this just for me.”
I can’t take it anymore.
I grip him tightly. There’s a wet patch on his black boxer briefs, from him or from me, it’s impossible to tell. When I tug on his boxers, he removes them, then settles back into place. His thick tip glistens.
“Condom?”
He shakes his head. “One more first.”
“One more wha—” He presses down with his thumb at the same time his finger curls and I’m on the edge again. My question ends with a whimper.
Nowwe need a condom.
“Drawer.”
He grips the handle of the top drawer and arches a brow.
“Yes.”
The random collection of items within slides to the front when he opens it. Chuckling darkly, he withdraws my neon pink vibrator. “Next time, we’ll use this.”
Next time.
If I wasn’t so spent, I’d squeal with delight.
Elliott’s frantic search comes up empty. I do have condoms, don’t I?
I nudge him aside to search for myself. Damn, that’s a lot of bobby pins. Where the hell is my freaking condom? I clamber off the bed, running out of the room to where I left my purse on the dining table. I dump the thing out, random items spilling across the table, lip gloss rolling onto the floor.
Elliott watches from the doorway to my room, one shoulder propped against the doorframe, his other hand gripping his dick that doesn’t seem to mind the delay at all.
Receipts, a burger wrapper, those sunglasses I thought I lost… Wait! “I gave it to you.”
His hooded eyes widen. “My room. Now.”
