Page 117 of The Way We Collide

“You deserve a blow job for that speech.” My wife’s hand creeps across the console from where she sits in the passenger’s side of the Rover I rented for our drive to Atlanta.

Her fingers trace the growing bulge in my jeans, and I shift at the tingling sensation. “This looks like a good place to park.”

I pull the vehicle behind a large structure at the back of her family’s estate and slam it into park. Quickly shrugging out of the seatbelt, I reach across the space, placing my fingers behind her neck and pulling her full lips closer to mine.

“As much as the thought of that sexy mouth sucking my cock has me hard as a fucking rock, I’d rather eat your pussy until you’re calling me God again, then fuck you til you can’t walk.”

Her amber eyes blink fast at my words, and her breath catches.

“Sound good?” My brow arches, and I lean closer to trace my lips along the line of her jaw into her hair.

“I think I just had an orgasm,” she whispers.

A smile curls my lips, and I reach down for the button on the side of her chair, lowering the back so it’s almost flat. “Get those leggings off. Now.”

She does as I say, and I remove my jeans at the same time. My cock is so hard, I need some relief. Bending down, I hook my arm under her thigh, lifting it open so I can drag my tongue along her clit.

Her hips jump, and she moans as her fingers thread in my hair. She’s juicy and sweet, and I give her a few more passes with my tongue, a few more concentrated sucks, to get her right to the edge. Then I shift my body, moving my chair forward, so we can climb into the backseat.

“Come on, babe.” I reach for her. “Get back here and ride me.”

She sits up and follows me across the console, straddling my lap and lifting her ass so I can line up with her core. Our faces are close, and our mouths seal together.

Tongues curl and taste. We’re salt and freshwater, and we smell like flowers and vanilla and sex. I lift my hips, and she drops, taking me all the way into her tight, gripping heat.

My head falls back with a groan, and she leans forward, holding the headrest behind me.

“Fuck, yeah,” I hiss, shoving her sweater higher.

Her arms raise quickly so I can lift it over her head, and my hands cup her breasts, wrapped in black lace. She grips the seat again, rocking her hips back and forth over my cock, taking me deeper as I shove her bra higher.

Her breasts spill out, and I pull them into my mouth. Lifting, biting, sucking, her tits are all around me as she rides, chasing her orgasm and blowing my mind.

My cock thickens, and I feel my control slipping. Her lips are at my ear, and I hear her pants and moans as her pussy grips and massages me. I’m lost in sensation, doing my best to wait and go with her, but I’m not sure I can.

“That’s right,” I gasp, gripping her ass and moving her faster on my waist. “I love the way you ride my cock. You’re so fine.”

She kisses my ear, my neck, and her low moans grow in urgency as she moves faster.

Spreading her cheeks, I slip my finger into her ass, and she jumps with a little wail. I press, using it to pull her forward, and her pussy clenches.

Another back and forth, and she breaks into spasms. Her thighs shudder, and her body jerks as she comes on my cock. It’s so damn sexy.

“Fuck me,” I groan, letting go of my orgasm.

I lift my hips thrusting until the mind-altering pleasure explodes through my pelvis. I hold, letting it jet into her.

She’s leaning forward, still gasping and shuddering, and I wrap my arms around her waist.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, Pink.”

Her head lifts, and silky dark hair falls around us. Her mouth covers mine, and we chase each other’s kisses, tongues sliding out and in, lips moving from cheeks to jaw to lips again.

Another pulse of orgasm moves through my dick, and I groan.

Delicate hands cup my cheeks, and she meets my eyes. “No one’s ever said those things about me before.”

“Which ones?” I study her pretty amber eyes, so earnest.

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