Page 27 of Serendipity

Wrong.

I slip my hands under the waistband of his boxers and give his butt a hard squeeze.

His hands drift down my sides, over my waist, coasting over the thin material of my panties, before gripping my thigh and wrapping it around him. He presses against me and I whimper into his mouth.

I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly we’re both yanking away that final barrier between us. And I stare.

I can’t take my eyes away from his impressive erection.

Pointing right at me. Long and hard and thick.

A drop of moisture is on the tip and I lick my lips in anticipation.

He smirks at me. “Not yet, sweetheart. I need to taste you first.”

I whimper again.

Letting my legs fall open to grant him access, no more nervousness in me. Just eagerness.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.

And then his mouth is on me. His tongue going to work and tasting me. His tongue is magical. But his fingers don’t want to be left out and join the party, pressing inside and curling while his tongue sucks on my sensitive bud. I’m almost embarrassed by my reaction, but it feels too good to care about how I must appear to him.

Desperate.

I am, though. Desperate for his touch to continue and never stop. It’s beensolong but that’s not the reason for my reaction.

It’s Stone.

“You taste incredible,” he moans against me.

Of their own volition, my hips jerk up, needing to be closer. His strong, calloused hand presses on my stomach, holding me to him. When his fingers curl once again and he pulls my clit into his mouth, I come unglued. My orgasm tearing me apart. I cry out his name and writhe against him. My hands grip the comforter tightly.

“Holy crap,” I breathe.

“That was without a doubt the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles, crawling up my body and peppering me with kisses along the way until he reaches my mouth.

I grip the back of his head, tasting me on his lips while reaching between us to finally grip his erection. His hips jerk as I try to work him between us. I flick his tip against my center, once, twice, and the third time he gets the picture.

“I’m losing my control here so this is your chance to tell me if you’re not ready but if you are, just know that you’ll have a hard time walking tomorrow without still feeling me inside you.”

“Now. If you don’t get inside me right this second, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

He thrusts into me and we both cry out at the sensation.

“You feel incredible,” he moans, lifting up to look down at me.

I wrap both my legs around him and that’s all the invitation he needs to keep moving.

We’re both shaking with need and lifting my hips to meet his that are pumping into me. Our eyes are locked on one another’s, watching and expressing everything we’re holding inside. With every stroke, I feel the build of another orgasm rise inside me.

“Don’t stop,” I beg.

“Never,” he promises. “Leah,” he pants. “Incredible,” he repeats. “Perfect.”

He pinches my taught nipple and I cry out when he shifts so one of my legs is over his shoulder. Driving in deeper. Harder.

“So good,” I think I moan.

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