The simple contact nearly does me in.
He’s going to make me come before he ever takes his cock out to play.
Thatcher moves down my body, leaving kisses in his wake, and finally pressing one against my sensitive button. I arch myhips against his mouth, and he chuckles. I want to be annoyed, but the vibration of his laughter brings me right to the edge.
“How long has it been, Blaire?” he asks, tugging my panties down my thighs.
“What?” I pant.
“How long has it been since a man made you come so hard you left your body?”
If I’m being honest, I’m not sure a man has ever made me comethathard. Certainly not pump and dump Spencer who couldn’t be bothered to learn his way around a woman’s body. “You’re just all talk,” I tease, enjoying the flare of desire in his eyes.
“I know what you’re doing, Blaire.”
“Then prove me wrong.”
And he does.
It hardly takes three strokes of his tongue against my clit before I’m coming so hard I see stars behind my eyes. I buck against his eager mouth, certain I’m going to die of a pleasure overload. The handcuffs are almost too much. I want to reach for his head, to pull him off, because it all feels like too much.
“Let go, Blaire,” he says, giving me only a second of reprieve before his mouth returns to my pussy.
I trust him.
So I let go, and let him take me over the edge again—first with his mouth, and a second time with his fingers inside me, curling in the most delicious way I never knew possible. What the fuck have I been missing out on all my life?
He looks up at me from between my legs, a wicked smile on his lips. But it’s not just some smug primal victory grin that I see there. It’s something so much deeper than lust. As though my soul has finally found its way home.
It makes no sense and perfect sense all at once.
Maybe it’s the Valentine’s Day festivities talking—or the three intense rapid-fire orgasms—but I think I might be in love with Thatcher Banks.
CHAPTER 10
Thatcher
When Blaire insists I take her place, cuffed to my headboard, I enthusiastically agree. I’m certain I’ve had more than a few fantasies that played out exactly like this over the years. She straddles me, like I did her, and secures the cuffs. Her tits dangle in my face, and I nibble on a nipple.
“Before we get too carried away,” she says, “I need to know?—”
“Condoms in the nightstand.”
“You have condomshere?”
“They weren’t here until I moved back in,” I clarify.
“Do we need a condom?” she asks.
The question makes my dick jump to attention. The idea of sinking inside Blaire’s pussy bare makes me nearly nut on the spot. “I’m clean, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It is.”
“But you?—”
“I haven’t had sex in almost a year. It’s been a long fucking year.” She lets out a sigh. “But I was tested just a couple months ago. I’m clean.”
“I meant what I said about buying you baby cows, but I’m not ready to make human babies.”
