"Yes," I gasped. "During the press conference. After. Every time you looked at me in the camera. I…"
"You what?"
"Wanted you. Wanted this."
"Good girl." The praise made me clench around his fingers. "I could feel you staring at me during the conference. Wondering if I'd touch you later. If I'd make you come."
His fingers curved, hitting that spot inside me that made my vision blur. Combined with his thumb on my clit, I was climbing fast.
"That's it," he encouraged, his free hand cupping my breast, thumb brushing my nipple. "Take what you need. Ride my hand."
I did shamelessly, chasing the pleasure building in my core. His fingers worked faster, harder, his thumb pressing circles that had me trembling.
"Easton, I'm going to—"
"Not yet." He withdrew his hand completely, making me cry out in frustration. "I told you. When you come, I want to be inside you."
"Then get inside me," I demanded, reaching for his belt.
He helped me, lifting his hips so I could work his jeans and boxers down. His cock sprang free, the head already glistening. I wrapped my hand around him, stroking slowly from base to tip.
"Fuck, Sadie." His head fell back, throat exposed. "Just like that."
I stroked him again, learning the weight and feel of him in my palm. He was hot and hard, and when I swiped my thumb over the tip, his hips jerked.
“Inside me,” I said again. “Now, Easton. I need you.”
He didn’t need more convincing. His hands gripped my hips, positioning me over him. I could feel the head of his cock at my entrance, and we both held our breath as I sank down onto him inch by inch.
“Oh God,” I moaned when he was fully seated inside me. The stretch, the fullness—it stole my breath.
"You okay?" His voice was strained, every muscle taut with the effort of holding still.
"Better than okay." I rolled my hips experimentally, and we both groaned. "Perfect. You feel perfect."
"Yeah, you do." His hands guided my hips, showing me the rhythm he wanted. "Ride me, Sadie. Take what you need."
I did, moving slowly at first, then faster as confidence built. With his hands on my hips, his cock hit exactly the right spot with each roll of my hips. It was almost too much.
"Look at you," he said, voice rough with desire. "Taking me so well. Using me for your pleasure. You're so fucking beautiful like this."
"Easton!"
"Touch yourself," he commanded. "I want to watch you make yourself come on my cock."
My hand moved between us, finding my clit. The added stimulation, combined with the fullness inside my body, had me climbing fast.
"That's it, baby." One of his hands moved to my breast, thumb brushing my nipple. "Come for me. I want to feel you."
The orgasm built and built, pleasure coiling tighter until I couldn't hold back. I shattered, crying out into the night sky as my body clenched around him.
"Fuck yes," he groaned. "Just like that."
Before I could catch my breath, he shifted, and suddenly I was on my back on the blanket with him above me, still buried inside me.
"My turn," he said, pulling back and thrusting in hard. "Because I need to fuck you properly now." And he did. His hips slammed into mine with powerful, controlled thrusts that made my whole body move with the force. The blanket cushioned us from the hard ground, but I could still feel the solid earth beneath me.
"You feel so fucking good," he groaned, face buried in my neck. "So wet. So tight. Like you were made for me."
