Page 57 of Pretty Obsessed

"Is that enough footage for future orgasms, dearest?"

When had dear morphed into dearest? I hadn't a clue, but it stirred my insides.

"I think I'll be watching it every night."

"You honor me."

"It's well deserved. I'm impressed you’re so new to this. Top marks.”

"I've studied a little.”

“What kind of studying?” My gut twisted but it also turned me on.

“Watching porn. It’s very new to me since we kissed.” A smirk curled over his lips.

“And this is something you’ve never done before?”

“Not gay porn, no. I wanted to be sure it was enough to convince you to let me stay."

"Oh, so you had backup plans?" I colored at the thought of him showing up in the middle of the night and offering to suck my cock.

I'd be thinking about that when I came to this video later.

"I had to ensure you were receptive to what I wanted, Emory." He squeezed my dick one last time and rose. "Consider that a gift for what I'm about to do to you."

"What are you about to do to me?"

"Own every last inch of you. I'm going to be so deep you can taste me." He stepped between my knees and brought his lips to mine. "I want you to be so filled you can't imagine ever coming any other way."

"Christ." I set my phone aside to cup his face, licking his glistening lips. "I might come the second you touch me."

"If you do, I'm not going to stop."

"Please don't." I shoved at his sleep pants, needing his cock in my hands, needing it inside me, but I'd take what I could get for now.

“Desperate?"

I nodded, denial not even crossing my mind.

He pulled a condom out of his pocket before letting the pants drop. "Put it on me."

I did what he asked in double time, rolling it down him as I slid to the edge of the counter, legs winding around his waist. His fingers found my hole, rubbing around the outside while I worked on his cock. Shamelessly I arched into him, exposing myself and silently begging for his cock.

"I need more than saliva, my dear."

"Nooooo." He was right but I wanted to be fucked right here, not carried to the bed.

Intensity was such a fickle mistress and as a writer, I knew a change in environment could obliterate the passion.

He opened cabinets around me hunting, for what I had no idea.

"River." A bite came out in my tone I hadn't meant to be there.

He produced a bottle of olive oil and upended it over himself before I could say a word.

"Woah," I said but he already had his tip inside me.

"Yes?" he purred in my ear, pushing deeper. So exemplary of our shared lust.

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