“Might be.”
He knocked.
I rolled off him, found the bottle of blueberry lube, then returned to my position.
He bit on his lower lip, watching me pop the bottle’s lid.
“Blueberry, eh?” I said, getting a whiff of artificial sweetness.
“Always.”
“In life or just lube?”
“Both,” he answered, lifting his hips slightly. His cock slid against my crevice, ready for action.
“We’ll discuss it later,” I whispered.
“What? My love of blueberries?”
“Yes. Now sit back and enjoy the ride. Wait. Shouldn’t I say that to myself?”
“Whatever gets you off,” he contributed.
I poured the lube into my hand, slicking us up, teasing myself with a finger.
“Now lay back, Mr. Lovell, and let me take you to paradise.”
He put his hands behind his head, the move only upping his sex appeal further.
I guided him into me. Yes, yes, yes. I’d missed how a cock went in, how incredible it felt to be stretched, for it to find its way to greet my G-spot.
“Fuck…” I rasped.
“You alright?” he asked, his concern making him hotter.
“I am.” I wriggled a little, getting myself into position, every nerve in there at attention.
He grabbed me by the hips. “You feel so good.”
“Ditto.” I rocked my hips, keeping eye contact, still not quite believing I’d ended up in this position.
His fingers dug into my flesh, his arse lifting slightly to jab at my sweet spot.
My toes curled, body on fire. “Fuck, Ollie. Fuck.”
I upped the intensity, needing more of the friction, the burn inside me. He groaned with pleasure, his face a joy to behold.
Joyful because of me.
Feeling good because of me.
He rose up, hands sliding up my back until they reached my shoulder blades, locking me to him, his arms radiating strength.
I rocked my liquid hips harder.
He grunted, taking my nipple ring into his mouth. Nipping it, rolling it with his tongue. Driving me wild, the sensation divine, pleasure unleased, every inch of me sparking with need. Lost in his body heat and the noises he made, in the closeness of our flesh, in the increasing force of my ride.
He freed my nipple, offering me his lips.
