My skin buzzes with arousal and the hot anticipation of his next move. More spanking? My ass cheeks are still burning from before, but I’m hoping he’s not done.
It’s the not knowing that nearly undoes me when we’re in bed together and he’s in full control. I never know what his next move will be, but I know I’ll give in to whatever deliciously sweet torture he wants.
I feel him moving behind me, and I gasp with surprise when he gets on his back and slides his head between my legs. He gives me a devilish wink as I look down at him.
“Fuck my face, baby,” he says, grabbing my ass and squeezing it until I groan. “Show me how bad you want to come.”
Oh God.
I love it when he does this. I don’t deserve this man whose repayment for my teasing is an earth-shattering orgasm. I don’t say so, though. Instead, I sink onto his mouth, my lips parting with pleasure as his warm tongue slides over me.
This always leads to a fast, hard orgasm. I circle my hips, the sensation building steadily. I’m panting as I grab the headboard and hold on, riding him as he tongue-fucks me and sucks on my clit.
I come undone in the most exquisite way, tears burning my eyes as I cry out his name, and his fingertips sink into my ass cheeks.
It’s all I can do to tumble off of him and lie back. He gives me a sexy grin, his face gleaming with my juices.
“I hope you’re about to fuck me,” I say breathlessly.
“Thought I’d let you recover a minute first.”
“Now,” I say softly. “Please.”
He gets to his knees and pushes my thighs back, groaning hard as he thrusts all the way inside me. It’s pure heaven, watching his expression of bliss as he pumps himself in and out of my soaked, satisfied pussy.
When he starts to slow down, knowing it’ll take me longer to come the second time, I shake my head. “Don’t stop, baby. Give me everything. I want it right now.”
His expression twists with pleasure as he continues, holding on to my legs as he plows into me again and again. Nothing compares to the feeling of having him buried deep inside me, my body promising him a powerful release.
When his already dark eyes turn into coal, I know he’s seconds away. He locks his gaze with mine and groans loudly with his final deep thrust, holding himself inside me as he comes.
The tension and worry are erased from his face as he exhales deeply and leans down to kiss me. Only I get to do that to this beautiful man. I may cause some of his moods, but I can also cure them like no one else.
I cradle his cheeks in my hand and kiss him gently. It’s moments like this when the depth of my love for him almost scares me. It’s an abyss I can’t control my fall into.
He’s worth the fall, though. For him, I’d fall ten thousand times. It’ll be hard to return to my mom’s tomorrow, but I still feel like that’s where I’m supposed to be right now.
24
Jude
I turnup the volume on the Bob Marley song playing on my Yukon’s stereo. Life is good, and not just because I’m driving myself around in my own vehicle for the first time in a while.
I’ve had my phone powered down since right before I walked in the door to see Reagan yesterday. We both remained cut off from the rest of the world until I dropped her off at the airport an hour ago.
I hated to say goodbye to her again, but our time together rejuvenated me. It reminded me that we’re just apart temporarily, and I only have to keep campaigning for another two weeks.
Win or lose, I’m ready to move on with my life. I need more time with Reagan. I also need more moments like this one, where I can breathe and think and be by myself.
Having a driver is practical when I’m campaigning, and if I win the election, I suppose I’ll have one all the time. But driving my own car and listening to my own music isn’t something I’m willing to give up completely.
Reagan and I have talked about driving the coast of California in a convertible, not making any plans and just stopping where and when we feel the urge. I’m ready to take that trip with her.
The rally I’m attending is in Winnetka, and I deliberately park at the back of the conference center’s parking lot to give myself a few extra minutes of alone time.
I’m approaching the building’s entrance when Tyson comes rushing up to me. His hair is going in a hundred directions, which means he’s been running his hands through it like he does when he’s nervous.
“Where have you been?” He throws his arms out at his sides, eyes wide with judgment.
