Page 51 of The Anaconda Downstairs

I opened my eyes and stared up at him. “I want to hear you scream my name when I make you squirt all over me.”

I’d already questioned whether a guy going down on a girl was real or just in romances. I didn’t think it wise to question whether squirting was real or just in porn.

Everett leaned forward a bit more, stretching the back of my thigh, and moved his fingers inside of me. But this time, instead of pushing them in and out like he had when his mouth was on me, he did something quite different. It felt like he was dragging the tips across the inner walls, which didn’t seem so very sensual, until he hit some magical spot.

“There it is,” he crooned.

He moved his fingers faster, and the moan I made wasn’t even my own voice. It was otherworldly, just like whatever he was doing to me.

“Come on, Penelope, let, go, baby. Be a good girl and squirt for me.” He flicked his fingers even faster and then pressed his thumb against my clit, and I absolutely came apart.

This was a whole other kind of orgasm that rushed through me. Instead of my body clenching down like before, it was like everything exploded in pulsing waves.

“Yes, fuck, yes, baby, that’s it. That’s my girl.” His hand and arm were drenched, and I was falling into euphoria.

I blinked up at Everett, the literal love guru who was smiling down upon me. “What kind of sex magic did you just cast on me?”

“I’m just proving to you that you’re a sex goddess who deserves to be worshipped.”

“Oh. Is that all?” I wasn’t even sure actual coherent words were coming out of my mouth right now.

Everett leaned in and gave me a long, lingering kiss. “Yes. Because any man who thinks you’re not good in bed is a dumbass. But I’m really fucking grateful they were, because now I get you all to myself.”

His smile was radiant as he stood, quickly shedding his own clothes. And then he was there, all golden skin and defined muscles, and I definitely forgot the names of every other man on the planet.

“Like what you see?” he teased gently, but once again, I could see a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“You’re... like a work of art,” I said honestly, because he was.

Everett joined me on the bed, pulling me up to the headboard and pillows. Oh, and away from the huge wet spot at the foot of the bed. We’d be doing some laundry before morning.

He wrapped his arms around me, so we were chest to chest, skin to skin. The feeling was electric, intimate in another way I’d never experienced before.

He kissed my forehead and then rested his against mine. “Tell me what you want from me, Penny.”

In answer, I kissed him, pouring all my desire, all my newfound confidence into it. I whispered against his lips. “I want you. I want you to make love to me now, Everett.”

A THOUSAND LIGHTNING STRIKES

EVERETT

I’d always thought finding “the one” would be like lightning striking—instant, electric, unmistakable. But as I gazed down at Penelope, her skin flushed and her eyes shining with trust and desire, I realized love could sneak up on you, building that electricity up until it exploded and was impossible to ignore.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured, trailing kisses down her neck. “So fucking sexy.”

And she was. Every curve, every dip, every mark on her skin told a story, and I wanted to learn them all. My hands roamed her body, reveling in the softness of her skin, the generous swell of her hips, the fullness of her breasts.

I was going to make love to her, but as much as I wanted to be inside of her, to claim her with my body, this night wasn’t really about me. I realized that the second she admitted that no guy had every eaten that sweet, plump pussy.

That was completely unbelievable to me, given how absolutely sexy and sensual she was. I loved pretty much every woman’s body. And I wasn’t afraid to admit, I could admire some men’s too. It didn’t matter their size, shape, or what the scale said, I thought they were all beautiful.

But I also wasn’t completely obtuse. I full well knew that there were real dumbasses out there who thought it was cool or funny to disdain big girls. And it was very fucking clear that Pen had been on the sharp end of that shit stick.

Which really pissed me the hell off. Guys like Odin, or any stupid fucking asshole like him, deserved to be eaten by a snake.

I was claiming the job of repairing at least a little of Pen’s trauma by showing her exactly how sexy, beautiful, and wanted she was.

She was mine now, and I was going to prove to her every day that she was the supreme sex goddess that ruled over my world.

---