He slides down my body, worshipping me. His lips and hands explore every inch, touching and kissing my skin like it’s sacred. When he reaches my lower abdomen, he places his hand over my uterus. “Here,” he murmurs, his voice low, “I’m going to fill you up here.”
Oh God. A rush of heat floods through me. Why is the thought of him filling me with his cum so unbearably hot?
I nod, biting my bottom lip. “Yeah,” I say, breathless.
He smirks before lowering his head. My fingers thread through his hair and I’m rewarded with a long, languid lick. His tongue flattens against my centre as he glides up and down. He circles my clit, brushing over it with just enough pressure to make my hips buck.
Then he devours, his tongue plunging into me. I moan, yanking at his hair. I clap my legs over his shoulders, and his grip on my thighs tightens in response.
“More,” I beg. “James, I need more.”
Without warning, he slips three fingers knuckle-deep inside me, the sudden intrusion making my back arch. I gasp, and he curls his fingers, rubbing against my inner wall.
“Fuck,” I cry out. His stubble scratches at my skin, and I love the idea that he’ll leave me marked. He doesn’t let up, his mouth still working over me as his fingers thrust inside, fucking me with steady, unyielding precision. Each curl of his fingers sends shockwaves through my body.
I release his hair and grip the sofa cushions as the tension coils tighter in my core. I throw my head back as he drives me higher.
“James, ohgodohgodohgod!”
“Eyes on me, April,” he says. “Look at me when you come on my tongue.”
I meet his gaze just as I unravel, piece by piece. A wave rushes through me, surging along every nerve.
I fall apart, turning to dust and floating away.
He slows his tongue and fingers, easing their pace.
When I finish, he gradually withdraws, placing a gentle kiss on my inner thigh. He glances up at me with a satisfied glint in his eyes and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. Then, hebrings his fingers to my lips. I lean forward and dart my tongue out before wrapping my lips around them, sucking them clean.
He crawls up my body to capture my lips. I pour everything I can’t put into words into that kiss. I show him exactly how much I feel, how much I want, with each pass. “Thank you,” I whisper softly.
He smiles and rubs the tip of his nose against mine, making my heart swell.
“I’m all sticky,” I say, glancing down between my legs.
“Hmm.” His eyes flick over me with a glint of mischief. “Guess I’ll just have to take care of that, won’t I?”
I smile up at him. He stands to his full height. Every inch of him is taut, golden, and defined. In one smooth motion, he scoops me into his arms, lifting me effortlessly, bridal style. Then, he turns and walks us upstairs. His muscles barely strain as he holds me, as if I’m not five foot nine; I weigh nothing in his arms. I love seeing this playful side of him. The thought of being the person he reveals this part of himself to makes me feel so incredibly lucky.
When we reach the bathroom, he sets me down carefully, making sure I’m steady on my feet. He opens the shower door, turning on the tap. Whirling back to me, he effortlessly lifts me onto the vanity and positions himself between my legs. His strong arms cage me, setting his hands flat either side of me against the countertop.
“You’re too good to be true,” he says, his voice full of sincerity. My cheeks flush, and I duck my head. But he gently tips my chin up, bending down until we’re eye-to-eye.
“I feel the same way about you,” I whisper.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, lifting me off the counter.
“I have legs, you know,” I tease, but he smirks, testing the water with his foot before carrying me into the shower.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you in the shower,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His gaze darkens as he presses me against the tile wall. He’s hard and ready as he rubs his cock through my folds, lubricating himself and teasing me.
“What did you think about?” I ask.
