Page 85 of The Summer We Lie

"I'm so close," I manage, the pressure building almost unbearably.

"I know, baby," he says, thrusting harder and faster.

Each time our bodies connect, the plug shifts inside me, intensifying every sensation. His fingers work my clit faster, with perfect pressure.

"Yes," I moan, lost in sensation. "Right there."

"Drench my cock," he growls, the command in his voice impossible to resist.

I fucking explode.

The orgasm rips through me like electricity, shorting out my brain and igniting every cell in my body. I scream through it, unable to process the intensity as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me.

"Fuck, baby," he praises through gritted teeth. "So fucking perfect. You soaked my cock."

He removes his hand from my overly sensitive clit and wraps my braid around his fist instead, pulling my head back for leverage. The slight pain cuts through the pleasure-haze, grounding me as he pounds into me with renewed intensity. Each thrust is hard and fast, relentless in pursuit of his own release.

Finally, he comes with a deep, guttural groan that I feel in my soul, his body shuddering against mine as he empties himself inside me.

My body feels boneless as he slips out of me, aftershocks still rippling through my muscles. Before I can process what's happening, he lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing. My head rests against his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady against my ear as he carries me to the bathroom.

He puts me on my feet, and my legs tremble beneath me. His hands steady me as he bends me over the counter. The marble feels cool against my heated skin. I watch his reflection in the mirror—the care in his movements as he turns on the water, testing it with his fingers until it's the perfect temperature.

He wets a washcloth, the tenderness in his actions making my chest tight. No one's ever taken care of me like this before. I'm always the one doing the caretaking.

When he gently removes the plug from my ass, I gasp softly, feeling suddenly empty. He places it in the sink before returning his attention to me. The warm cloth glides between my legs, cleaning his release from my sensitive skin. Every touch is deliberate, thorough but gentle. He runs the cloth over my ass next, and I bite my lip at the sensation.

"Go get in my bed and get comfortable," he instructs, his voice low and soft in a way that makes my stomach flutter.

I walk on unsteady legs to his bedroom and climb onto the mattress. The sheets feel impossibly soft against my bare skin. I settle in the middle, unsure which side belongs to him. The bed smells like him and I breathe it in, my eyelids growing heavy.

I'm drifting between sleep and wakefulness when the mattress dips beneath his weight. He slides under the sheets, his body radiating heat as he pulls me closer. I wrap my leg around him instinctively and look up to find his eyes on me, dark and intense. Something unspoken passes between us before he dips his head and captures my lips with his.

The kiss starts slow but quickly ignites into something hungry. His tongue slides against mine, and I feel him hardening against my thigh. My body responds immediately, desire pooling between my legs despite how thoroughly he just took me.

Before I can overthink it, I move on pure instinct, crawling on top of him and straddling his hips. I grind my pussy against his growing erection, the friction sending sparks through my core. I've never done this position before—never been on top—and nervousness flutters in my chest alongside the arousal.

His hands grip my waist, his eyes locked on mine. The heat in his gaze gives me courage.

I reach between us, wrapping my fingers around his thick length. He feels impossibly hard. Positioning him at my entrance, I take a deep breath and begin to sink down, taking him inch by inch.

"Fuck," I whisper as he stretches me open in this new angle. It's deeper somehow, hitting places inside me that make my thighs tremble.

His fingers dig into my hips as I take him completely, my body adjusting to the fullness. For a moment, I stay perfectly still, overwhelmed by the sensation and the power of being in control.

I wake with a start, my body already trembling on the edge of release. It takes me a second to register the source of the pleasure—the warm, wet slide of Dominic's tongue between my legs. I moan and throw the sheet off, desperate to see him.

The sight nearly stops my heart. He's between my thighs, dark eyes locked on mine as his mouth works against my pussy. Something primal flares inside me seeing him fully dressed in expensive clothes, his face buried between my legs like he can't get enough. I reach down and grab a handful of his hair, pulling him closer as I chase the explosion building inside me.

"Dominic," I cry out as I fall over the edge, my body arching off the bed. Waves of pleasure crash through me, each one more intense than the last as he keeps his mouth on me, working me through it.

When I finally float back to earth, I realize he's not only dressed but dressed nicely—crisp button-down, tailored slacks, looking every bit the successful architect while I'm a disheveled mess in his bed.

"Are you going to work?" I ask, still breathless.

"Yeah, I have some work I need to do in the office today," he says, standing up and straightening his clothes.

"Oh, okay." I push myself up on my elbows, suddenly uncertain. "Do you want me to..." I trail off, not even sure what I'm offering.