Page 88 of Something Like That

She gasped, her hips jerking. He clamped his free hand over her hip, holding her still. Her thighs slid wider, and she pushed down, taking his fingers deep. He crooked his fingers, rubbing against her swollen g-spot. Her high-pitched whine vibrated against his lips as they trailed up and down her throat. He sucked on her skin a little harder than he probably should, but he was too far gone to worry about leaving a mark on her.

“What are you doing to me?” Her voice was all raspy and raw. She tilted her head back, her hips rocking faster and faster against his hand. “Oh, God. I’m going to come.”

He moved his lips up to her ear. “That’s right, sweetheart. Rub that sweet pussy against my fingers. Take what you need. Let me give you what you need.”

“Fuck, Nick. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” The plea was nothing more than a string of gasped words. Her fingers faltered on his dick as she got closer and closer to coming, but he didn’t care. Because her breaking apart was just so fucking beautiful.

He pulled away from her throat so he could watch. She had her head tilted back, her eyes closed. Her chest and cheeks were flushed, a bit of sweat glistening along her collarbones. She was breathing hard, each inhale thrusting her breasts forward. Her nipples were stiff little points, visible through her dress, just begging to be sucked.

Pressing on her clit, he circled his thumb faster. She pushed against him hard. On every deep stroke, she made a noise partway between a groan and a grunt. She rocked faster, chasing her orgasm down. It was the sexiest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

And then suddenly, her thighs trembled and her back arched. Every muscle in her body tensed, the walls of her pussy clamping tight on his fingers. Her entire body shook.

He wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her close, but keeping the pressure on her clit with his thumb, gently pumping his fingers in and out of her through the orgasm.

Her body unclenched and she melted against him, nuzzling her face against his neck. It was his turn to sweep his free hand up the length of her spine and then back down in an easy rhythm. She made a noise that was almost like a purr. His cock twitched. Hard.

He eased his fingers out of her. She whimpered and jerked. His cock twitched again, tight and aching. He closed his eyes, resting his cheek against the top of her head. The feel of her in his arms, her body soft and molded against his, was heaven. Contentment rolled through him, unfamiliar, and yet not completely unwelcome.

She wrapped her fingers around his cock again, and gave a squeeze. He gasped, his hips jerking. She pressed her lips to his throat as she slipped her other hand into his boxers. It was a tight fit, considering he was still wearing pants, but he wasn’t about to complain.

She pumped the length of him with one hand and teased the head with the other. Sparks of sensations skittered along his nerve endings, making his skin tight and tingly.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he whispered, tightening his hold on her waist. It was almost like he was trying to pull her into him, make her a part of him. “Use your palm on the head. Rub in circles.”

She did as he asked, the pre-come leaking out of the tip making the glide smooth. He groaned, sensation streaking through him like lightning, gathering tight in his pelvis. “Yeah, just like that.” His voice was deep and guttural. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna come.”

“Not yet.” She licked a path up his neck to his ear. “Don’t come yet.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the freight train barreling down on him. She stopped moving her hands, which helped, but it was still fucking difficult. He blew out a breath, confident he wasn’t about to blow within the next few seconds. But all bets were off if she started rubbing him again.

She pulled her hands out of his boxers. He made a disappointed noise in the back of his throat and opened his eyes. He was so hard it hurt, but if she wanted to stop, then so be it. He’d already gotten everything he wanted.

The edge of her lower lip was clamped between her teeth, her hair all disheveled and sexy. With her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, she looked like a very satisfied sex kitten. His wildcat.

She leaned back on her hands, scooting back and somehow managing to unfold her legs out from under her. Man, she was flexible. Too bad he wasn’t going to get the chance to test out just how bendy she could be.

Disappointment slid through him, but he pushed it away. He needed to stay in the moment. Where it was only him and her, and nothing else mattered.

He watched her, his back pressed to the door, unsure of what she wanted. She reached up under her skirt and wiggled out of her panties. He tried to swallow, but his throat was as dry as the surface of the sun.

She planted her feet on the ground, sending her skirt to sliding up her thighs. Which was helped along when she grabbed the hem and slipped it up to pool around her waist. Her pretty pink pussy was on full display.

His cock bobbed, the sensitive tip scraping along the fabric of his boxers. He hissed out a breath, his gaze glued to the space between her legs.

“I want you to fuck me.” She punctuated the sexy words by trailing her hand down between her legs.

The muscles in his pelvis tensed at the dirty demand. He knew how much it wasn’t in her nature to use such language, and yet she felt comfortable enough to let him know exactly what she wanted. It was a heady feeling, that level of trust, of intimacy.

He crawled forward, his focus completely on her pussy. His mouth watered for the tart, sweet taste of her. He was going to savor this last feast. Remember the feel of her against his tongue, the way she writhed and moaned as he pleasured her. He ran his hands up her inner thighs, the goosebumps on her skin tickling his palms.

“No,” she said, spearing her hand through his hair and cupping the back of his head. Her eyes locked with his, the desire and determination in her gaze a huge turn on. “I need you inside me.” She tugged him forward.

He shook his head, but moved up and over her anyway. It was like his body refused to comply with what little coherent thought he had left. “I don’t have a condom.”

Lowering himself down on his elbows, he stretched out over her, his face and body inches from hers. The urge to lower his hips into the cradle of her thighs, to rub his aching cock against her hot, wet pussy, spiraled down his spine. He tensed every muscle in his body to stop from giving in.

She traced her fingers over his cheeks and across his jaw. Her touch was soft and light, but it burned. Burned right through his skin and muscle and bone, right to his very soul.