“Slide one inside,” I told her. “Imagine it’s my finger.”
She did, a soft cry tearing out of her as her finger disappeared. Her back arched, those gorgeous tits lifting like an offering, and I nearly came in my boxers right then.
I couldn’t watch anymore without touching. I moved over her, settling between her legs, mouth tracing a path down her throat, between her breasts, over her trembling stomach. I replaced her hand with mine, easing one finger into that tight, wet heat, then two when she moaned my name like a prayer.
“So fucking tight,” I growled against her skin. “Gotta get you ready for me, sweetheart.”
I kissed lower, spreading her with my thumbs, and dragged my tongue up her center in one slow lick. She jolted, hands flying to my hair. I didn’t let up—lapped at her like a man starved, sucking her clit, curling my fingers just right until her thighs clamped around my head.
She came with a broken cry, pulsing around my fingers, flooding my tongue. I kept licking her gently through it until she sagged, boneless and glowing.
When I lifted my head, she was staring down at me, lips parted, eyes hazy. Then she pushed up on her elbows, voice husky and new.
“My turn,” she whispered. “I want to watch you touch yourself.”
5
RYLIE
Iwas having a hard time catching my breath.
Devon was still on his knees in front of me, the low orange light striping across his chest like embers. His fist moved slowly and deliberately, base to crown, twisting just under the head. Every time he came back up, a fresh bead of moisture welled up, caught the light, and rolled down over his knuckles.
My breath caught at the sound it made—wet, rhythmic, shameless. It filled the cab and did something to my body that was new to me.
I was already swollen and aching from his tongue, but watching that slow glide, watching the thick vein along the underside pulse with his heartbeat, made me throb all over again. My thighs slid against each other, slick, and I felt a new rush of heat drip out of me.
His stomach flexed every time his fist tightened. A low, continuous growl vibrated in his chest, almost animal. Sweat traced the groove between his pecs, slid over one flat brown nipple, and kept going. When he dragged his thumb across the head again, smearing that wetness in a slow circle, his headdropped back and the sound he made—half groan, half curse—went through me like a shockwave.
“Look at you,” he said, eyes locked on me even while his neck was arched. “Sitting there dripping for me, tits bouncing every time you breathe. You have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?”
I whimpered. I couldn’t help it.
He stroked faster, hips jerking forward into his own grip. Another thick drop spilled over his fingers, ran down the length of him, and hung there for a second before it fell to the vinyl between us.
“Christ, Rylie,” he growled. “I have to be inside you. Right fucking now.”
“Lie down,” I said. “I want to be on top.”
He didn’t argue. Instead, he obediently stretched out on the long bench, the vinyl creaking loudly under his weight.
His cock lay rigid against his abs, flushed almost purple now, the head glossy and swollen. I climbed over him on trembling legs, knees settling onto the bench on either side of his hips.
The blunt heat of him nudged my opening, and I sucked in a breath. He felt scorching, impossibly hard, like heated steel wrapped in silk.
“Slow, baby,” he said, voice ragged but gentle, big hands settling on my waist. “Take whatever you can. I’m right here.”
I lowered myself an inch. The stretch was immediate, white-hot, a sting that stole my air. My nails dug into his chest. I froze, eyes squeezed shut, feeling every throb of him inside me.
“Breathe through it,” he murmured, thumbs sweeping soothing circles on my hips. “That’s my girl. Let me in.”
I exhaled shakily and sank another inch. The burn flared brighter, then slowly ebbed into a heavy, stretching fullness. I rocked, tiny circles, testing, and pleasure sparked deep, sudden, shocking.
“That’s it,” he groaned, the sound rumbling under my palms. “Fuck, you’re tight. Squeezing me so good.”
His encouragement cracked something open in me. My hands slid up my own body, cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples between shaking fingers. The sharp pleasure made me clench around him, and his hips jerked, a filthy curse tearing out of him.
“Jesus, look at you playing with those pretty tits. Keep going, sweetheart. Show me what you need.”
