“Please, Julie. Ohmygod. I can’t. I need . . .”
“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you need and I might give it to you.”
“Kiss me. Ugh. Put . . . your . . . lips . . .” I raise my hips off the bed, trying to reach his mouth. His grip on my hands pulls my body like a bow, and I arch off the bed.
“Right here?” His lips surround the hardened bud and suck softly.
“Yesssss,” I hiss. “Don’t stop. Please.”
But he does stop. “You want my hands on you, Ever?” He’s kissing me, sucking me again.
“I do.” I push my body down as much as I can into his face. My hands are squirming in his grasp to be free.
“I’m going to let you go. Take your shirt off and put your hands on your tits. Show me how you want me to touch you.”
I meet his eyes and nod my head. I can’t speak. As soon as he lets them go, my hands fly to the hem of my shirt and whip it over my head, then I plant my palms on my breasts, my nipples jutting between my spread fingers. I squeeze my index and middle fingers together, rubbing back and forth along the hardened nubs obediently, hoping it gets his lips back on me.
“Good girl, Ever. Feel good?”
Words trap in my throat. I want to thrash my head from side to side, clamp my eyes shut, but I keep watching him for some sign he’s going to give me what I want.
“Answer me, Ever.”
“Uhhhhh,” I try to say, but it comes out a moan. And another, “Huhhhhh.” My eyes are shut so tight now, they water.
“Pinch your nipples for me.”
Icomply.
“Harder,” he commands.
I do it.
“Yes, baby. Good girls get rewards.” He plunges two fingers inside me and scrapes his teeth along the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth.
I can’t help the scream that rips from my throat or the tears that trail past my temples and into my hairline. My muscles contract around his fingers as they slide in and out of me. My breathing sounds like panting sobs to my ears.
Then he’s there, his face next to mine a second before his hard length fills me thoroughly.
I suck in air at the sweet invasion.
He’s kissing my ear, whispering to me. “I got you, Ever. My sweet Ever.” His words begin to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Ugh.”Thrust.“So good.”Thrust.“So sweet.”Thrust.“Good girl.”Thrust.“My girl.” When my orgasm subsides, he slows his strokes and his lips kiss the tracks of tears on each side of my face. His body shakes with restraint. Still inside me but not moving, he touches his lips to mine. “Hi, pretty girl.”
“Hi, Julie.” My voice is hoarse.
“You feel good?”
I nod my head in answer, not trusting my voice.
“Yeah?”
I nod again.
“I love making you feel good.”
More nodding, but I find my voice. “Are you . . . Did you . . .” I’m tracing his heart tattoo with my fingernail while my other hand floats up and down his back along his spine.
He shakes his head slowly, pinning me with liquid blue pools. He twitches inside me, still rock hard.
