Her fingers thread into the top of my hair, tugging.Holy fucking shit.I can’t stop myself from stroking my cock while licking and sucking her pussy. Taking her clit into my mouth, she’s writhing and squirming beneath me, driving me fucking crazy. “I’m close,” she whispers.So am I, I think as she’s pulling on my hair, sending zings down my back right to the tip of my dick. She pulls my hair harder, pushing my face into her pussy. She sucks in a shuddering breath, legs clamping around my head, letting out whiny and needy sounds as her pussy spasms, clenching on nothing. I keep my lips wrapped around her clit, sucking, drawing out her orgasm until she loosens her grip on the back of my head. I wrench my body back, gripping my cock at the base, hard, needing a second to get under control.Again.
I open my eyes only when I'm confident I’m not going to come from just the sight of her heavy lidded and sated before me.
“You’re sure you want this?” I ask her after I position myself at her entrance, ready to push into her wet heat. “We don’t have to.”
“Yes. I want you inside me.”
Jesus fuck.I survey her one more time, sucking each nipple into my mouth one after the other then taking her lips as I push in the first inch of my cock. We both let out a gasp, then tilt our heads down, watching where I disappear inside her. My eyes roll back when I bottom out, pelvis touching hers. “You feel so fucking good. I–Holy–” She silences me by rolling her hips underneath me. I drop down to my elbows, burying my face intothe side of her neck, relishing in the feel of her heat surrounding me.
She sighs, “You’re really big,” before her nails slide over the tops of my shoulders, embracing me, and I can’t stop myself from flexing a little bit, wanting her to feel my strength. She latches onto the top of my shoulder with her teeth and I nearly come. “How close are you? Tell me what you need to come,please, tell me, I need to feel you coming on my cock, baby. Tell me.” I’m begging, completely shameless with how desperate I am for her, unable to string together a coherent thought that isn’t: make Kennedy come.
“My clit.”
I snake my hand between our bodies, finding her clit with my thumb, circling in the way she’s told me she likes it. I know I find the right spot and rhythm when her pussy clenches, squeezing my cock and her breath hitches. “I’m not going to last long.” I pump my hips once, doing everything I can to last just a little longer.
“Don’t stop, I’m so close.”
I close my eyes, focusing every ounce of will power I have on rubbing circles around her clit. She’s clenching down on me so tight, I’m not sure I can withstand another second of it, then she gasps, hands gripping my shoulders with surprising force as her walls spasm around me. Her orgasm rocks through her, sending me over the edge. “I’m coming,” I grunt out, pleasure overwhelming me. I push my cock as far into her as I can, shooting into the condom, orgasm pulsing through my entire body being dragged out by the rhythmic clenching of her walls around me, face buried into the side of her neck.
I stay like that, inside her, for a few moments catching my breath as she cards through my hair a few times, her nails sending chills down my back. “You have a magic pussy,” I say out loud because I’m an idiot.
She giggles, a surprisingly arousing sound while I’m still inside of her. I pull out, remove the condom, knot it, and walk into her bathroom where I deposit it into the trash can. I splash some water on my face and chest, trying to catch my breath, accepting the fact that Kennedy Brooks has me right between her teeth and I fucking like it. And I’m starting to think I might not care who knows about it.
Venturing out of the bathroom and back to her, I’m struck with intense possessiveness when looking at her: sprawled across the bed, blankets only covering her bottom half, hair fanned out on the pillow behind her. Anxiety pools behind my ribs as she stretches, arms over her head, chin up, looking adorable. How am I supposed to be okay with this being casual? I was lying to both myself and her when I thought I could keep this a secret, have some fun, and then move on like nothing ever happened.
I throw her my shirt from the floor and pull up my boxers before slipping under the covers, pulling her flush against me, her back to my front. I breathe in the scent of her shampoo and perfume, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that I need to figure out a way to get her on the same page as me. No matter how long it takes. This just feels so right between us.
Kennedy turns in my arms, facing me with an open and lazy grin dancing along her lips. She drops a featherlight kiss over my sternum where a few red purple marks are located before pressing her face into my chest, looking shy and uncertain. I tighten my arms around her, feeling her heart pounding against mine. “That was my first time since…you know.”
I do know. That low place in my belly clenches tight with knowing. I feel like I could fight a bear right now, high off her. She continues, “Was it good for you?”
“It was good. More than good. I’ve actually never come so hard in my life.” I can see the pink of her cheeks as she hides her face against my side. “Was it good for you?”
“Yeah, it was really good for me too.”
I could actually fight a fucking bear right now or maybe lift a car off a baby, definitely PR a benchpress, I feel incredible. I roll on top of her, kissing her again, making sure she knows without a shadow of a doubt how much I enjoyed the sex and how much I enjoy her.
“And I want to take you on a date. A real one where I pick you up and take you out, during the day.”
She hides her face in the way she does when she’s feeling vulnerable or embarrassed. I vaguely recognize I find everything she does to be cute, but she’s so cute when she’s shy. “Okay,” she says.
“Okay?”
She nods. “Okay.”
Everything feels right in my chest, and I fall asleep almost immediately.
Chapter Nineteen
Kennedy
The timer of my phone goes off, startling both me and Claire. Thank god, it's break time. I tap the stop button and stand up, stretching. “So he’s, like, actually a psychopath,” Claire says about Jackson Schuyler, a weary and disgusted look over her face.
“A narcissist at the very least,” I agree. I grab my phone from the desk, “I’m going to head into the bathroom and walk a lap.”
Claire nods her head, “‘Kay,” she says absently while looking at her phone.
I am so happy today is the last day I’ll be working on the Miller divorce case. I’m sad I won’t get to see Claire all the time, but I never want to read another thing associated with Jackson Schuyler again.
