“Breathe,” he ordered from between my thighs, his voice gentle and coaxing as he applied more pressure. “Just relax and breathe. Won’t do anything you don’t like, baby. You don’t like it, just tell me to stop and I will.”
I trusted him completely, so when he went back to devouring me like I was his favorite meal while applying just a bit more pressure against my hole, slipping in to the first knuckle, I sucked in a deep breath and did my best to relax—something that was growing increasingly difficult given I was strung tighter than a guitar string.
The feel of him at both of my most intimate openings was almost too much.
“Oh God, Stone. I can’t—” He growled against me before his teeth nipped my sensitive lips, sending a shockwave through my whole body.
“You can, and you fucking will,” he demanded as he began to stroke that long finger in and out of my ass. Then, as if to prove himself right, he scraped my distended clit with his teeth and drove his finger deep, setting off an earthquake inside me that had my head snapping back and my throat working as I cried his name over and over, rubbing my pussy against his mouth as I came longer and harder than I ever had before.
Aftershocks riddled my body, draining so much of my strength that I couldn’t keep myself upright. Collapsing on top of him, I licked and sucked along his shaft, trying impossibly to concentrate on him while he kept at me until I had absolutely nothing left.
“Fuck,” he grunted, shifting me once again, flipping us over so that I was on my back, and he was hovering over me, his hips nestling between my thighs, pushing them open wider. “So goddamn sweet.” He licked his lips, making me shiver. “I could die a happy man, hearing you scream my name like that.” He notched his cock into place, murmuring, “Give me another, baby,” before snapping his hips and filling me up, stretching me wide.
“God, yes,” I cried, throwing my head back against the cushion and arching my back, dragging my nipples across the thin smattering of hair on his chest. He pulled out and slammed back in so hard the couch creaked across the floor. “Again,” I panted, savoring the fullness of having Stone inside me. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
“Never, baby,” he grunted, grabbing hold of the armrest above my head to use as leverage to fuck me even harder.
A misting of sweat dotted across his brow, a single drop running down his neck. I lifted my head, running my tongue along the column of his throat before biting down.
“Fuck me harder,” I demanded.
A grunt rasped past his lips, letting me know he liked it, so I bit down again. “Christ, my dirty fucking girl. You were born for me, weren’t you? Absolutely fucking perfect for me.” A second release crashed over me, pulling me under. “That’s it. Let me have it. Let me feel you drench my cock.”
I did just that, raking my nails down his back and crying out over and over again until I felt absolutely boneless. My channel clenched and spasmed as he followed me over the edge, burying his face in my neck and grunting as he shot deep inside me, coating my walls.
It felt like an eternity passed before our breathing returned to normal. When he finally lifted his head so he could look down at me, what I saw in those whiskey eyes made my chest squeeze.
“Don’t want to scare you or anything, mouse, but I think I’m addicted to you.” A laugh-snort bubbled past my throat before I could stop it, making his lips spread into a blinding smile. “Christ, I love that laugh.”
God, every day I fell more in love with this man than the day before. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” I whispered as I reached up and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “I’m addicted to you too.”
He let out a breath and lowered his forehead to rest against mine. “Thank Christ.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Willow
Sitting back in my chair, I let out a breath and pressed my hand against my belly. “I think that might have been the best meal I’ve ever had.”
Stone smiled at me from across the table. We’d been an official couple for nearly two weeks, and so far everything had been beyond my wildest imagination—and that was really saying something, considering I’d been fantasizing about him for nearly a whole year.
It took several days after that dinner where he and Stone had met for the first time for my dad to have a good enough day for me to take him out to see the Chevelle and Knucklehead at Stone’s place, but when we finally did, I thought that might just go down in history as one of the best days of my life.
Truth was, I’d gone from crushing on the man to falling head over heels, but despite how good things were going, I couldn’t bring myself to say those three words just yet, even though I was pretty damn certain he felt them too.
Tonight he’d surprised me when I got off work by picking me up on his bike and taking me straight to the Cattleman for dinner.
“The food was good,” he agreed, his eyes taking on a devilish gleam. “But I wouldn’t say it’s the best. I’ll be having the best later tonight when I bury my face in your pussy.” A spark of electricity zoomed between my nipples and clit, making me squirm in my seat. He saw me shifting around, and his lips pulled into a big grin. “Now you’re thinking about it too, aren’t you?”
“No,” I lied. I was totally thinking about it. In the past two weeks, we’d gone at each other every opportunity we had—and even some opportunities we’d had to create ourselves—and it was as if our desire for each other had only gotten stronger. I constantly caught myself drifting into daydreams about all our different times together. But two could play this game. “I was actually wondering if it would be possible to slide under the table and suck you off real quick before the waiter showed up with the check.” That got him, and I felt a little spark of delight at the way his fingertips dug into the tablecloth. Leaning forward, I lowered my voice to a whisper and smiled as I asked, “Think we have time?”
The waiter chose that moment to return, placing the black leather billfold on the table before scurrying off at the sound of Stone’s threatening growl.
My giggle turned into a snort as he pulled his credit card out of his wallet to pay. “Thank you for dinner tonight, honey. It was great.”
“I have a lot of making up to do,” he told me. “Figured this was as good a place to start as any.”
The waiter came back to take the card and made quick work of ringing us out. As we stood and started toward the exit, I took his hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. “You don’t have anything to make up for. We’re good.”
He let go of my hand, but only so he could swing his arm over my shoulders and pull me flush against his side. It had been like this for two whole weeks now. If I was close enough to touch, it never failed that he’d grab hold and situate me in a way that gave him maximum contact. Even in our sleep. I’d never taken Stone as the cuddling type, but I’d been very wrong. “The goal is to get you to better than good, mouse. When I achieve that, I’ll be happy.”
I opened my mouth to tell him he’d already succeeded when my cellphone started to ring, cutting me off.