Page 272 of The Wright Man

I squirted for the first time in my life, crying out his name as the release wrecked me.

"Good girl," he groaned through gritted teeth. "Wet my shit up, just like that."

He pulled out just in time, groaning as he painted my ass with his seed.

He collapsed against me, panting into my back, laughing low. "Shit... I forgot to strap up. That's crazy. Never done that before."

I giggled, turned my head with a crooked smile. "Oh, you was ready. Wait... So I'm the first raw pussy you've ever had?"

He shrugged and kissed my spine. "It's only right."

Truth was, I hadn't even noticed. Didn't care. I'd been too far gone. Too open. Too his.

He didn't give me time to recover. Dropped to his knees and licked me like I was his last meal, tasting me, humming against me until I sobbed his name again.

"Maleek..." I moaned as I pushed back onto his face.

"So fucking sexy, leaking on my dick like that," he groaned through a mouth full of me, gripping my thighs with both hands to keep me still. "You know I had to get a taste."

I couldn't respond, and he didn't care. Just kept going, kept licking and sucking until I fell apart again, grinding back onto his tongue as I rode out the orgasm.

He pressed one last open-mouthed kiss to my folds before he stood. I felt those big hands wrap around my waist, then he flipped me onto my back like I weighed nothing.

He crawled up my body, eyes dark and locked on mine. He put both of my legs over his shoulders, pressing hot kisses to my inner thighs, then he slid back in deep and slow.

He talked me through the stretch, whispering, "Tell me whose pussy this is," as I took him in.

"Yours, Maleek... Always—fuck—it's always been yours."

My entire body started shaking again as he stroked me slowly, rolling his hips to hit that spot that made me scream. "You gonna give me another one?" he asked.

"Yes..." I nodded wildly. "Don't stop. Please. Don't stop."

"Say it again."

"Don't fucking stop."

He didn't.

He groaned, thrusting deeper, sending lightning through my veins. "Look at that. Creamin' all over my shit again already..."

"Maleek, you feel so fucking good," I sobbed, losing track of everything except him. "Harder."

That did something to him, like I knew it would. He loved when I was vocal.

He pressed my knees to my chest, and drove in deeper, rougher, his thumb on my clit and his mouth on my neck.

"I'm bouta—shit... I'm close," he warned, his strokes becoming wilder, harder, deeper. "Where you want it?"

I was delirious as I felt my own orgasm rapidly building, but I knew what I wanted. "Inside." I panted, clawing at his arms as I felt myself start to tremble around him. "Don't pull out. I want all of it. Give me everything."

We came together, locked in each other's arms, high on love and lust and two decades of what-ifs. I chanted his name breathlessly through my climax, nails biting into his back.

We collapsed, sticky and shaking, skin to skin. He kissed me slowly, gently, still grinding into me like he couldn't bear to stop. Like we were fused.

"I love you," we breathed at the exact same time.

We laughed, delirious, and he finally pulled out with a soft grunt, then got up slowly.