She squirts again, this time it shoots a bit further than simply a trickle on my hand as I’m coaxing her to release. It’s a delightful spray that seeps into my sheets, leaving a blissful satisfaction spreading in my chest like the liquid spreading on the bed underneath her.
Before I stop, she tears off her shirt, leaving her completely naked in my bed. My fingers stumble as I take her in, her pale skin, her more-than-a-handful tits, her curves... my mouth dries up like I’m a man in the desert, and my only salvation is drinking this woman in.
“Get naked.” Her demand is charged with the same need coursing through my veins. “Get inside me.”
Huh. Well. I guess we’re done with the foreplay.
CHAPTER 28
Penelope
Tate is lucky he doesn’t waste any time taking his clothes off. Now that I’ve had one orgasm, I need his dick. If he were to drag his feet, I’d probably scratch his face off. Or tie him down and ride him like a prized stallion.
He doesn’t ask me to repeat myself, and he’s naked in seconds. His cock is glistening, beads of precum pooling at the tip.
I need his fucking dick.
“Hurry up.” I claw at his chest, leaving a red trail of scores in his skin.
He tips his head back, that sensuous rumble rattling in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter closed. “Again.”
I sink the nails of both hands into his pecs, moving them slowly down his body.
“Fuuuuck.” He hisses through his teeth. When I get to his cock and pump it a few times, his hips jerk.
“Hurry. Up.”
He suits up with a condom from his bedside table before dragging the tip of his dick through my soaking wet pussy. Ugh. If he keeps up with this teasing thing, I’m going to lose it.
If we were in my place, I’d whip out a dildo and start riding until he figured his shit out. But I’m not, I can’t, so I start fingering myself instead.
I’m still vibrating from my first orgasm, it doesn’t take long before I’m closing in on the edge all over again.
He’s pumping his cock, watching me as he licks his lips. “Where do you want it, Pitstop?”
“Does it matter?” I move my fingers faster, gliding them across my clit as my hips buck to meet my own hand. “I’m almost there myself anyway. I don’t need you.”
He throws my leg over his forearm and drives into me on a growl.
“That all you got?” I don’t even believe the words as they come out of my mouth. I’m stretching to accommodate him, there’s a burn from my body adjusting to his presence, and he thrust the air out from my lungs when he shoved inside me.
He pulls back his hips, then slams inside me again. And again. Harder, and harder, more aggressively with each thrust. With each pump of his hips he drives me higher—both in the bed toward the wall, and driving me faster and faster toward another orgasm. My head cracks off the headboard, but I ignore the sting of pain, and the burn of friction between my legs because he’s hitting that tender spot inside me and making me soar.
I won’t come before he does.
I won’t.
I need to beat him, to win, to make him fall apart with my magical pussy.
As though he’s inside my brain, he flashes me a smirk before picking up my other leg and draping it over his other forearm.
Once I’m situated, legs hanging over both his arms, he pistons into me in a punishing rhythm, his balls smacking off my body with each grunt. “Come again, She Devil.”
“Make me, Satan,” I snarl at him.
He doesn’t need to rise to the challenge, because before I finish my sentence the familiar tickle at the base of my spine and right to the tip of my toes starts building. No... no, no, no, no, no. Don’t come. Fight it. Hold it off. Don’t give in.
I didn’t think he could fuck me harder, but I’m happy to be proved wrong. He’s about to split me in two with his cock with how hard he plunges inside my body.
