Page 142 of The Sweetest Return

For a second, it was tender.

Then my pussy clenched around him again.

Hard.

Dre’s whole body locked beneath mine.

“Don’t,” he warned, voice breaking.

I did it again.

His hands gripped my ass, and the sound he made was low, helpless, almost angry with how good it felt.

“Imani.”

The way he said my name pulled me under.

My orgasm rose fast, too fast to reason with, and I tried to lift away from it, but Dre held me where he wanted me.

“No. Stay on my dick.”

His forehead pressed to mine. “Let this pussy finish what she started.”

That was all it took.

Pleasure broke through me, deep and violent, my body shaking above his while my pussy locked around him again and again. Dre cursed, his hips driving up once, twice, then holding deep as his control finally tore.

“Mani,” he groaned.

His body shook beneath mine.

“Mani.”

I felt him lose himself, felt the way he buried his face against my neck and held me like the orgasm had taken more from him than breath.

“Mani.”

Softer that time.

Almost broken.

For a while, neither of us moved.

Only our breathing filled the suite.

His arms stayed around me. My body stayed loose over his, my face tucked against his neck, my pussy still pulsing around him like it had not accepted that the moment was over.

Then Dre kissed my shoulder.

He eased me up carefully, protecting his knee and me at the same time, then slipped away to dispose of the condom.

I fell onto my back, body loose, satisfied, and completely ruined. My nipples were wet. My thighs were open. My ass was tender. My pussy still pulsed like it had not accepted that he was no longer inside me.

Water ran in the bathroom.

A minute later, Dre came back with a warm cloth.

I covered my face. “Dre.”