One more stroke, just one more…
“Oh no, you don’t.” He chuckled and stilled his hand, and I whimpered in frustration. “I definitely need my lips and tongue and teeth on you when you come.” To accomplish that, he gripped the delicate strips at my hips and peeled off the undies.
“Graaanntt.” I drew out the single syllable of his name and complained, “Please! Shit, I was so close. That’s just cruel.”
“Mmmm,” was all he said while nestling back between my legs. He finger-painted my sensitive sex with his index finger by dragging my own slickness around in slow, torturous circles. “So sexy, Blaze. You’re so wet…so hot. Fuck, I have dreams about this pussy.”
“Is that so?” I asked in lighthearted disbelief. Quickly, everything changed, however. From playful to overwhelmingly stimulating in seconds. My brain swam with endorphins, and my skin broke out in chill bumps when he finally took the first pass with his tongue.
Grant worked at my needy button with his flat tongue. Swipe after swipe, repeating the same motion in an intoxicating rhythm. I dug my fingers into his lush hair and moaned.
“So good. It’s so good, Grant. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I’m so close, God, yes!”
When he entered me with his expert fingers, I was done. After just watching him beat off, then adding his mind-numbing oral skills, I was primed to orgasm in record time. When the climax broke free, my entire body tensed with the prickling pleasure of every nerve ending firing at once. Every muscle contracted in unison too.
The beautiful man crawled over me and braced his weight on his bent arms positioned on either side of my head. After recovering from the all-consuming rush of my release, I smiled up at him and thanked him.
“Oh baby, you don’t have to thank me for eating your pussy. I’d happily make the experience my chosen career path if it actually paid my bills.”
His ridiculous comment brought a giggle all the way up from my heart. It felt so good to be so buoyant, even if just for a moment.
Grant’s thick erection was pressed between us and twitched and pulsed with need. He rolled his hips into my cleft, and my sensitive sex all but cried to be filled. I’d sworn I wouldn’t sleep with this man again until I had my head on straight, yet here I was. Beneath him and all but begging to be stuffed with his cock.
“Oh God, why does that have to feel so good?” I couldn’t look at him directly, but with his proximity, it was difficult to look anywhere else, so I closed my eyes instead. With his face nuzzled into the junction of my neck and shoulder, his groan vibrated through to my core.
“Blaze. I want to be inside you more than my next breath. The heat coming off your pussy right now is killing me. Fuck.” He rotated his hips again. “Fuck, baby. Can you feel that? The way you’re making my cock so slippery. Fucking perfection.” He stilled his movement and pulled back to look at my face. “Are we doing this?”
Who was I trying to kid? Of course he would get what he wanted. Because I wanted it too. Wanted him to the point of feeling pain at the thought of not having him. There would be plenty of time afterward to beat me up for complicating things between us again. Finally, I gave a quick nod, and he covered my mouth with his.
But Grant Twombley didn’t kiss. He took. Stole. Robbed me of every rational thought and swept me up in the tide of his lust. I was pulled under with every masterful invasion of his tongue and every demanding nip of his teeth. Along my jaw. Behind my ear. Down my throat. With his mouth, he explored every inch of my body that he could reach. My pussy reacted by weeping more for his erection.
“Fuck me, Grant,” I panted breathlessly. “Put your dick in me and fuck me. God! Please!” I begged into the sultry air of the room. Apparently, those were the words he’d been waiting to hear. As soon as I finished pleading, he reached between our bodies and directed the head of his shaft to my opening. He ensured we had firm eye contact before sliding into me completely.
“Fuck, baby. So good. It’s so good in this cunt. I’m ruined for any other.” Slowly withdrawing, he kissed me again. Expert strokes followed, and both our control began to slip. I gasped when he moaned. I sighed when he growled. Erotic sounds from our throats and lewd, wet sounds between our bodies echoed around the room. My head spun with the exquisiteness of it all.
“Rio. Baby. Come with me. God, I can’t hold it off,” Grant panted while pounding into me.
“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Yes! So close,” I answered through my own ragged breaths.
Together we reached our peak, and he went utterly still, absorbing the way our bodies held each other in the tightest, pulsing, and throbbing embrace.
The wonder in my voice was pure when I looked at him and said, “I feel you. I can feel you coming inside me.”
“I know, baby, feels so good.” His eyes drifted closed, and he groaned as I clenched my insides around him. “Yes, God. Squeeze me like that. Fuck, that’s amazing. I think I’m getting hard again.” He kissed my nose and grinned down at me. “You are so incredible. Do you know that?” A slight shift of his hips, and he pulled out of my pussy and rolled to the side, pulling me against him when he settled on the mattress.
And then silence. Golden silence. There were times—notably, when my anxiety was ramped up—that silence was louder than a brass band. But lying in Grant’s embrace, while he delivered an occasional kiss to my shoulder, neck, even my hair, peace blanketed the room. A girl could get used to feeling safe in his arms.
Don’t go there, fool.
Sex was sex. Just physical need, and nothing more. I was in no place, emotionally or psychologically, to consider what just happened between us as anything more. Nothing but trouble would result from that dangerous line of thinking. Grant was a terminal bachelor. I knew I was already breaking the mold of his usual conquests when he dipped his dick in me more than the one time. The interest he took in me was so outside his normal behavior. Those were the facts I needed to remind myself of—and often.
“Should we shower?” he asked quietly.
“Probably,” I replied, but neither of us made a move to get up. His muscular arm was slung across my waist and I rested mine on top. “Let’s just chill here for a bit. Feels too comfortable to get up.”
“Agreed.”
This time when the silence settled, I could feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts. My curious mind weighed the merits of asking him what he was thinking so intensely about. But I knew how cliché it would sound from a freshly fucked female to ask this brooding male, “What are you thinking about?” Nine times out of ten in this situation, hearts and egos were stomped on. The answer might not be one I wanted to hear.
Fuck it. When had I ever played on the safe side of the tracks? So, throwing caution to the wind, I asked him, “What’s so heavy on your mind, Twombley? I can feel the weight of your thoughts hanging above us like an anvil.” I stroked up and down his arm, trying to let him know I wasn’t looking for a confrontation.
Long minutes passed, and he didn’t respond, even though I could tell from his restless shifting he hadn’t drifted off to sleep. Just when I was giving up on having my question answered, he pulled his arm off my body and rolled over to face me, resting his cheek on his folded hands.