“Then let me.”
“No.”
“Why?” I’m genuinely confused why he won’t let me touch the steel rod poking into me.
“Because it won’t help. He won’t simmer down and rest until you come for me, Pitstop.”
“Hmmmm.”
He squeezes the tip of my nipple before palming the rest of my breast. “She likes it.”
I roll to lie flat on my back, giving him access to the whole front of my body, and he wastes no time hiking up the front of my nightgown.
Grinding the heel of his hand against my pussy makes him moan. “Fuck. You’ve soaked through your panties.”
I’m not embarrassed at how wet I am. It’s hard not to be when you wake up to a hard cock trying to impale you, and a gorgeous guy who plays your nipples like they’re strings on his favorite guitar.
He doesn’t stay outside my panties for long, he pulls them to one side and sinks his fingers straight between my soaking wet lips.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.” It’s an almost pained exclamation. His fingers slide around my clit with ease, then move around like he’s exploring the space. When he slips his fingers inside me, he leaves his thumb circling my clit. He presses down on my g-spot and my clit and hisses “Screenshot,” in my ear.
If I wasn’t so insanely turned on I’d consider elbowing him. But that would make him stop, and I don’t want him to stop.
He chuckles then hums against my skin as he dots careful kisses on my face. It’s so hard not to turn and cup his cheek. Every piece of me wants to pull his face to mine and kiss him like it’s his last night on earth.
He’s such a good kisser, and I can’t fucking wait for his face to heal so we can kiss properly. But for now, I’ll be patient, and let him strum my clit.
As my hips roll, his fingers pick up speed. When my back arches he murmurs along the column of my neck. “So beautiful when you let go for me, Pitstop. So sweet when you stop fighting.”
A growl gurgles at the back of my throat but it comes out more like a feral whimper. My breaths fall in shallow pants, and my eyes roll back in my head as I speed closer and closer to release.
When my orgasm hits, my whole body tenses, muscles freezing as my insides explode. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“That’s it, pretty girl. Just let it out.” He doesn’t slow down as my body jerks through its release. Instead, he picks up speed, his fingers slipping and sliding with ease over my clit as he whispers more praise in my ear. “I’m not done with you, Pitstop. I need more. Come again for me. Don’t hold back.”
Gritting my teeth doesn’t stop the swell building inside me. My grunts and pants fall on deaf ears as he commands my body with his fingers and demands.
“Stop fighting me.”
“Never.”
He smiles as much as he can which just makes me wetter.
“I feel how wet you are for me, pretty girl.” He drags his fingers through my slick arousal, the sopping wet mess making all kinds of noises I should probably be ashamed of but he seems to like it because he groans. “I fucking love it.”
He doesn’t let up, his fingers swirling and circling, he’s playing me like an instrument. “Come for me.” His voice is stern, charged with need. “Just fucking come.”
The bubbling blood inside my body lights up as he shoves me over the edge.
“Yes. There it is. Come on, Pitstop.”
My body bucks and bows, my muscles clench then vibrate as my orgasm crashes into me like waves on a rocky shore.
The scream he rips from my body is unhinged, raw, and so loud there’s no way his teammates can’t hear me. But I can’t stop, I can’t fight it, I can’t fight him, my body is putty in his hands and sheer willpower alone can’t hold back the wild noises coming from deep inside me.
When I collapse onto the bed, he’s smirking down at me, trailing his fingers up and down the inside of my thigh, draggingmy arousal with him as he moves. I’m soaking, a complete mess, boneless, soft, hoarse, and trembling.
He strokes my face with a tenderness that hits me square in the chest. “Thank you.” His voice is so quiet I almost miss it over the gasping sound of my own labored breaths.
