She's quiet. Then: "Never."
"Never?"
"Not once in three years."
I'm going to kill him. I'm actually going to find Derek Marsh and beat him to death with my bare hands.
"Well," I say, keeping my voice light despite the violence churning in my gut, "we're gonna fix that. That was one. I'm thinking we should aim for at least three before the night's over."
Her eyes go wide. "Three?"
"At minimum." I kiss her gently. "You deserve to feel good, Savannah. And I'm gonna make sure you do."
Chapter 7 - Savannah
He just made me come with his mouth and fingers.
What the actual fuck.
I'm lying on his bed, my whole body still trembling with aftershocks, trying to process what just happened. The intensity of it. The way he touched me like he had all the time in the world. Like my pleasure was the only thing that mattered.
Derek never made me come. Not once in three years. Half the time he didn't even try. He just did what he wanted and rolled over when he was finished. The other half, he'd make a halfhearted attempt and then get frustrated when I couldn't get there fast enough, like my body was deliberately defying him.
I learned to fake it. Learned to make the right sounds at the right times so he'd be satisfied and leave me alone.
But Ryan… He didn't need me to fake anything. He worked me over like he was learning a language, paying attention to every sound I made, every movement, every gasp. And when I came, it was real. So fucking real I almost blacked out from the intensity.
And now he's lying next to me saying he wants to make me come at least three more times tonight.
Three. More. Times.
I didn't even know that was possible.
He's watching me with those sharp blue eyes, his hand tracing lazy patterns on my hip. His face is still wet from me, from being buried between my thighs, and he doesn't seem the least bit bothered by it.
"You okay?" he asks quietly.
"I'm..." I laugh, because I don't have words for what I am. "I'm better than okay. That was incredible."
"Good." He leans in and kisses me, and I can taste myself on his lips. It should be weird but it's not. It's hot. Evidence of what he just did to me. "We're just getting started."
Something shifts in me at those words. Some combination of need and want and the realization that I'm allowed to have this. Allowed to take what I want instead of just accepting what I'm given.
And what I want right now is to see his cock. To taste him the way he just tasted me. To make him feel as good as he just made me feel.
I sit up, ignoring the slight ache in my feet, and look down at him. He's still wearing his jeans and nothing else, while I'm completely naked. That needs to change.
"Don't move," I tell him.
His eyebrow raises. "What are you—"
"Just don't move."
I reach for the button of his jeans. My hands are shaking slightly but I manage to get it undone, then the zipper. I can see the outline of his cock through his black briefs, thick and hard and straining against the fabric.
Holy fuck, he's big.
Bigger than Derek by a significant margin. The outline alone is intimidating, but also exciting in a way that makes my still-sensitive pussy throb with anticipation.
