Page 171 of Beyond the Stroke

“I want you messy, Summer. I want your pussy dripping all over this table so I can lick up every drop.”

When he dips two fingers inside me, it’s gentle, yet commanding, and exactly what I need to let go.

“Rory!”I cry out, my body arching as a wave of pleasure crashes over me. It rolls through me, sharp and shattering, leaving me trembling and breathless, clinging to him like he’s the only solid thing left in the world.

I lie there, my skin slick with sweat and the shockwaves of my orgasm slowly dissipating.

Rory’s tongue swirls against my inner thigh, one side then the other, cleaning me up like he said he would. His fingers still working inside me as I come down from the high.

His mouth and fingers are phenomenal, but I want more.

I want his cock.

Tugging gently on his hair, I pull him up to me. His lips immediately descend on mine, letting me taste myself and sending another rush of arousal between my legs. His fingers tease under my shirt, his mouth retreating for a moment to lift it up and over my head.

“I’m nowhere near done with you,” he growls, voice thick with heat as he hovers above me. He nips at my lower lip, his fingers sliding inside the cup of my bra to tease an achy nipple.

“Good,” I whisper, tugging his shirt upward. “I’m not done with you, either.”

He lifts his arms so I can pull his shirt all the way off, then reaches around to unclasp my bra.

But just as heat begins to flood through me, he pauses. Pulling back instead of pressing in. His eyes lock on mine, steady and unreadable, and for a breathless second, I wonder if I’ve said too much. If my words revealed more than I’d intended to.

I sit there, bare from the waist up, legs dangling off the edge of the table, heart pounding.

“Good,” he says at last, his voice low but firmer now. “It’s settled. No one’s done here. Not by a long shot.”

He lifts me off the table, wrapping my legs around his waist and carries me toward our bedroom.

“You didn’t want me on the table?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Another time. Right now, I’m going to enjoy you in our bed.”

He crosses the threshold, then gently lays me on the bed, taking my skirt with him as he steps back.

I let my knees fall open, exposing myself to him. Rory’s gaze drops between my legs. One hand dips inside his boxer briefs to stroke his erection while his other hand’s palm skates up and down his jaw in an intense, contemplative motion.

I smile at how adorable he is when he’s distracted, but then his eyes lift to mine and all that intensity is focused on my face.

I watch him drop his boxer briefs, exposing his thick cock. Dying to taste him, I push myself forward and lick up the front of his shaft, my tongue tracing over the throbbing vein, then swirling around his head, tasting the saltiness of his precum.

I only get a few licks in before he’s urging me backwards and against the bed.

He crawls over me, his erection pressing against my inner thigh.

“I haven’t had you in four days, Wildflower. I’m fucking desperate for you.”

Then, he kisses me, sweet and gentle, like he’s my best friend.

It’s his super power. Turning me on so explicitly, while also making me feel safe and taken care of.

A moment later, he presses inside me.

And just like that, it’s not pretend anymore—not for me.

forty-nine

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