Page 29 of Sweetly Yours

She turns her head slightly, her voice soft and teasing in the quiet darkness. “You’re awake.”

“Barely,” I murmur, squeezing her hip again, trying to keep my breathing steady. “Kind of hard to fall asleep right now.”

Her laugh is a breathy whisper, and then she shifts again, her ass pressing more firmly against me. I can feel the heat of her even through the thin barrier of her boy shorts, and it makes my cock twitch in response. “Are you saying I should stop?” she asks innocently, though the deliberate roll of her hips says otherwise.

“Christ, Willow.” My hand slides down, my fingers dipping beneath the elastic band of her shorts, finding the soft, smooth skin beneath. She gasps softly when my fingers move lower, brushing against her soaked folds.

“Fucking hell,” I murmur, the words more of a growl as I glide my fingers between her slick, swollen lips. She’s dripping wet, her arousal coating my fingers as I trace her heat, and the feel of her makes my restraint crumble completely.

Her body arches slightly against me as my fingers tease her entrance, and she lets out a soft, needy whimper. “You’re so wet for me,” I murmur into her ear, my voice thick with desire. “Did you dream about this? About me touching you like this?”

She doesn’t answer, but the way her hips move against my hand tells me everything I need to know. My fingers slide deeper, finding that spot that makes her gasp, and I press my lips to the back of her neck, kissing her softly as I work her with slow, deliberate strokes.

The room is quiet except for the sound of her breathing, growing heavier with every movement of my fingers, and the faint, wet sound of her arousal as I circle her clit, teasing her,building her up. Her hand grips my arm, her nails digging in as her body begins to tremble. “Brock,” she whispers, her voice trembling with need.

“Shh,” I murmur against her neck, my voice low and soothing. “Let me take care of you.”

Her breaths come in shallow gasps now, her body trembling against mine as I tease her with slow, deliberate strokes. But it’s not enough—not for her, and certainly not for me. The need to have more of her, to taste her, to claim her completely, becomes an overwhelming ache.

I slide my hand out from her shorts, my fingers slick with her arousal, and she whimpers softly at the loss. I shift behind her, rolling her onto her back, and the moonlight spilling through the window illuminates her flushed cheeks and parted lips. Her honey-brown eyes blink up at me, heavy with sleep and desire, and I can’t help but smile. “Stay right there,” I murmur, my voice a low growl as I hook my hands under her thighs, spreading her legs slightly. The little boy shorts she’s wearing cling to her hips, teasing me, but not for long. I grip the waistband and tug them down her legs in one smooth motion, tossing them aside.

Her thighs press together instinctively, as if she’s suddenly shy, but I’m having none of it. I grip her legs, my hands firm but gentle, and pull her closer to me until she’s fully spread before me. Her glistening folds catch the moonlight, and I swear I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.

“Brock,” she whispers, her voice trembling, but I don’t let her finish. Instead, I dip my head between her thighs, pressing my lips against her pretty pussy. “Fucking perfect,” I mutter against her, my breath hot on her sensitive skin. My tongue flicks out, tracing her folds slowly, savoring the way her hips jerk at the contact. I circle her clit with deliberate strokes, feeling her body respond, and when I press my tongue flat against her, she lets out a breathy moan that goes straight to my cock.

Her hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as I devour her, my tongue exploring every inch of her wet pussy. Her taste is intoxicating, sweet and rich, and I can’t get enough. I suck her clit into my mouth, teasing it with gentle pressure, and her thighs clamp around my head as she cries out, her back arching off the bed. “Brock,” she gasps, her voice trembling with need. “Don’t stop.”

I have no intention of stopping. I grip her thighs tighter, holding her steady as I slide my tongue inside her, tasting her from the inside. She’s so soft, so warm, and the way her walls pulse around my tongue makes me groan against her, the vibration drawing another desperate moan from her lips.

Her hips grind against my face, seeking more, and I oblige, sliding two fingers into her wet pussy while my tongue continues its assault on her clit.

Her moans grow louder, her body trembling beneath me as I work her with practiced precision, driving her higher and higher. “You’re incredible,” I murmur against her, my voice thick with hunger. “So fucking sweet.”

Her hands grip the sheets, her body arching as the tension builds within her. “Brock,” she cries out, her voice breaking, and I know she’s close.

I press harder, faster, my tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to push her over the edge. Her cries fill the room as her climax crashes over her, her body writhing beneath me as wave after wave of pleasure consumes her. I don’t stop until she’s trembling, her thighs quaking around me, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

When I finally pull back, my lips and chin slick with her arousal, I look up at her and smile. Her flushed cheeks and dazed expression are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “Still shy?” I tease, kissing the inside of her thigh as she tries to catchher breath. She laughs softly, her hand reaching down to tug me up toward her. “Not even a little.”

I hover over her, my lips trailing along her neck, savoring the way she melts into my touch. Her warmth presses against me, her body pliant and eager, and when I catch the look in her eyes, it’s all I need to know.

“I need you,” she whispers, her voice trembling with urgency. “I can’t wait, Brock. Please—don’t make me wait.”

Her words are all the permission I need. I sit back on my heels for just a moment, my hands sliding to the waistband of my boxer briefs. Her gaze follows the movement, and her breath catches as I push them down, letting them fall off the edge of the bed. My cock stands thick and hard between us, and the way her lips part, her tongue darting out to wet them, nearly undoes me.

I move between her thighs, my hands sliding up the smooth curve of her hips as I settle over her. The heat radiating from her is unbearable, and when I grip myself, aligning with her entrance, I know there’s no going back. Slowly, I press into her, inch by inch, watching the way her body opens for me, the way her lashes flutter and her breath stutters with every movement.

She gasps softly, her hips rising to meet mine, and when I’m fully seated inside her, the tight heat of her surrounding me, I let out a low groan. “Willow,” I rasp, my voice raw with need, “you feel...”

“So do you,” she whispers, cutting me off, her hands sliding up to grip my shoulders. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me even closer, deeper. Her body trembles beneath mine, her hips moving instinctively with mine, meeting every slow, deliberate thrust.

I lean down, catching her lips in a deep, searing kiss. Her moans vibrate against my mouth, her hands threading through my hair and holding me close. The rhythm builds between us,each stroke harder, deeper, until we’re completely in sync, our bodies moving as one.

“Brock,” she breathes, her voice trembling with pleasure. “You feel so good.”

“You have no idea,” I murmur against her skin, my lips brushing the sensitive spot just below her ear. My hand slides between us, finding her clit, and when I circle it with my thumb, her body jerks against mine, a soft cry escaping her lips.

Her hands clutch the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as her breath comes faster, sharper. “I’m close,” she gasps, her voice breaking.

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