“If we had more time, we could definitely play around with the sexy librarian fantasy,” he says, returning his attention to my breast.
An electric shudder runs through me as he flicks the tip of his tongue over my perked nipple.
“Hmm?” I lace my fingers through his hair. It’s full and thick.
He chuckles, moving between my legs. The bed jostles, and when I open my eyes, I witness his cock springing free of his black jockey boxers.
I bite my tongue to keep from saying something stupid like asking him if the damn thing is going to fit. Because, well, obviously. He’s not in jail for having killed anyone from impaling them on his cock.
It’s beautifully thick. Sitting up, I reach between us and wrap my hand around his shaft.
His groan is unworldly. Almost like my touch hurts, but in the best possible way.
I smile up at him, wait until his devilish eyes are locked on me, and then squeeze my grip around him and stroke.
Another guttural sound, and this time, he rolls his head back.
“Fuck, woman, if you keep that up, you won’t get to feel my cock stuffed inside you.”
Leaning into him, I kiss his bare chest. He has so many tattoos, they seem to run into each other. I make a mental noteto take the time to inspect them later. When there’s time and my body isn’t about to revolt if I don’t give it what it wants.
Him.
“Then I’ll stop, because I definitely want to feel that.” I let him go, but he grabs my wrist, putting my hand right back where it was.
“Just a little more, sweetheart,” his voice is coarse. “Fuck. No.”
He pulls my touch away and pushes me back against the pillows.
I’m laughing, wiggling beneath him.
“I’m not sure what you’re laughing at, you’ll be begging me soon enough.” It’s a threat and a promise all rolled into one.
He sits back on his heels, a foil packet in his hands.
“Where did that come from?” I laugh again.
A cocky grin pulls on his lips as he tears open the package. Leaning up on my elbows I watch as he rolls the latex condom over his cock. My mouth waters at the sight of his thick masculine fingers running over his shaft.
He tosses the packet away and covers my body with his.
I’m barely breathing by the time he breaks the kiss. I’m drunk on him.
“I’m not waiting anymore,” he mutters against my mouth, pushing the head of his cock against my entrance.
“Good. Don’t.” I wrap my arms around him.
He plows forward, filling me in one quick movement. Stretching me to the limits.
I cry out, and he freezes.
“Give it a second.” He kisses my cheek.
“No. Don’t stop.” I hug him tighter. “Don’t stop.”
He chuckles. “I won’t.”
The man is true to his word. It’s not just his cock, it’s his hands, his mouth, his scent. All of it invades me, pleasures me, devours me at the same time.
