Page 102 of Better Left Unsaid

Talk about coming. Maria was the greediest I’d ever seen her. I’d never emptied so much of myself inside her before. Her walls made sure to take every last drop and then some from my balls.

I lazily thrust a few more times before leaving it all with her and letting my forehead drop against her back. “You’re incredible,” I barely got out, my breath so hard to catch. It felt like I’d ran a damn marathon.

“Thanks. You, too,” she replied, her breathing heavy.

I scooped her up in my arms and took her upstairs.

I set her down on the bed. “I’m going up against the headboard, and you’re going to sit on my face.”

She chewed on her lower lip in a way that was driving me wild, my spine tingling. “You want me to sit on your face?”

Did she think I was kidding? “I had the appetizer, and now I want the main dish.”

I fully intended on worshipping her every day for the rest of my life, but right now I’d start with her glistening, swollen pussy. I was hungry. Scratch that—I was starving, and I needed to eat a substantial meal before I died.

She hovered over me, her eyes connected with mine. “And you’re sure?”

“I want you to suffocate me.”

“Um.”

“I can’t think of a better way to go than from your pussy suffocating me.” I wet my lips. “Death by Maria’s pussy.”

Her cheeks reddened, and her tits grew pert. She liked that notion. Of course she did. She was my girl, and I could finally think that and not feel like a fool because it was true. Maria Morelli was my girl.

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

Eagerly, she sank her knees into the mattress on either side of me.

“Grab the headboard, so it’s easier for you to ride my face.”

She did, and then she sunk down, but at too slow of a rate for my liking, so I took the lead, pulling her down on me. Her pussy was on my face, and my first order of business was to lick her puffy folds.

Her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head. She let out a low whimper. “That’s right, baby, relax and let me be in control.”

Three things she was lousy at:

Relinquishing control.

Accepting change.

Trusting others.

I loved her in spite of those things.

Oh, who the hell was I kidding? I loved herknowingthose things.

Like I’d said before—there wasn’t a thing I’d change about her.

She swore she wasn’t perfect, but if that was the case, then she was my perfectly imperfect girl. No two ways about it.

My fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips as I helped her ride my face, guiding her before she got the hang of it and found her own pace. She continued to roll her hips back and forth. I held my tongue out, making sure she swiped against it so I could drag my tongue along her.

I moved my hands to her butt and held on tight, so tight I knew I’d leave marks. She moaned in response, throwing her head back in pleasure.

A few more rolls of her hips and she was screaming my name, her body tensing. “Dom, Dom. Oh, Dommmm. . . .” Her cries were loud and unabashed.

I feasted on her and took everything she gave me, never wanting this to end.

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