Page 84 of Lemon Crush

“There. Harder,” I demanded when my eyes stopped rolling toward the back of my head.

“Bossy.”

It wasn’t like me, I knew. I patted his sweaty shoulder. “Just go with it.”

He went with it, setting a forceful, jarring rhythm that made me tighten my arms and legs around him and hold on for dear life.

“Like this? Is this what you needed, Gus? Hard enough, baby?”

“Yes.” I was going to come again in the not-too-distant future because he was a magician and a well-hung motor daddy and I was currently the luckiest woman on earth. “Just like that.”

“Next time I want you from behind,” he growled, sweat shining on his forehead. “Then on top, with your breasts bouncing every time I do this.” He drove into me so deeply my headboard hit the wall.

“Wade.”

I couldn’t believe it felt so good. We must be better at this than everyone else. If other people had sex like this, no one would ever leave their house again and the world would collapse into satisfied and exhausted anarchy.

“This is why I waited, August. I knew once was never going to be enough after having you. As soon as I felt this perfect pussy wrapped around my cock, I knew I’d spend every day counting down the minutes until I could get home and find my way back inside.”

His shockingly arousing words matched his sinful strokes, driving me closer and closer to the edge of something indescribable.

Irresistible.

That was how he saw me. It was there in his face as he hovered over me, memorizing every sway of my breasts, every gasp as he took me. It was there when I screamed out my climax, the sensations combining with his unbroken attention to electrify my body. One high voltage shock after another pumped through every nerve ending I had, lighting me up until I exploded into a million sparks of light.

He moaned low, powering into me with less control than he’d had before as I came around him. Each thrust kept the fires burning, sending new spasms of pleasure through me.

“August. Fuck, August,” he ended with a guttural roar of my name, joining me over the edge. We were so close I could feel every pulse of his pleasure and all the fine tremors that rattled his big frame.

My hands sifted through his hair and skimmed over his shoulders as he recovered, touching every part of him I could reach while he buried his face in the pillow beside me, his breathing heavy and labored.

This was so much better than my book.

Not something I ever thought I’d say, but there it was, and I didn’t have a single regret about it. How could I, when I felt so damn fantastic?

Dreams never lived up to the hype in your head. Reality never beat fantasy. It was an immutable fact of life. A fact that had just been completely annihilated by the man whose body was now draped over me so heavily while he caught his breath that he was stealing some of mine in the process.

“Sorry,” he murmured, either hearing my thoughts or my subtle struggle for oxygen. He moved off me to get rid of his condom, then collapsed on his back and tugged me into his arms. “I think I blacked out for a second there.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. That was another thing. What was that about? Laughter and sex rarely went together in a good way.

All the wrong men.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said when his hand found its unerring way to my breast and cupped it, my nipple hardening again in response to the possessive touch.

“You should.”

The glow of satisfaction suffusing my body made me feel like taking credit for every good thing happening at the moment.

The moon was still shining? You’re welcome.

Endorphins werethe best.

“I’m definitely putting this in my dirty book.”

His arm tightened around me and he kissed my temple, the tenderness of the action making me shiver. “What dirty book?”

Well shit. Why was I having such a hard time keeping my inside thoughts where they belonged?More proof of what happens when you don’t leave your house for two years.

---