Page 71 of The Midseason Fakeout

Grabbing a handful of her ass, I yank her down, her knees spreading wide while I flick and taste her. “Oh my God,” she moans. Once I hear her, I can’t stop. I drive my tongue into her pussy, then circle her clit. She keeps lifting off me, telling me it’s too much, but I yank her back down every time, sucking.

“Aidan!”

“Mmm, give it to me,” I murmur against her nub. I want her juices to spill over my lips. I want her pleasure. All of it.

Her hips start to move, riding my face. My dick is so fucking hard, it’s straining against the rubber.

“I’m going to— Aidan!”

I keep going until a tremor rocks her body, her orgasm hitting hard and fast, and then I move her down, holding my cock near her entrance. I don’t even have to tell her what to do. She lowers herself, taking just my tip as she rides out her orgasm. She rocks again and again, squeezing me.

“You sneak,” she says breathlessly when she comes down, and I swear to fucking god, watching this woman ride me is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

My mouth goes dry. “We’re going to go slow now. You haven’t taken all of me yet.”

She nods, bracing her hands on my abs as I urge her hips forward. Little by little, she takes more of me. Watching her explore, her fingers sinking into my chest, gives me chills. “That’s a good girl. Does it hurt?”

“It’s a mix. Pleasure and pain and…” She finally presses down, sinking over me to the hilt, and I groan, holding her hips in place so she can get used to me. “There you are.”

“Fuck, baby.”

Her brows rise. “Does it hurt?”

“Only because I want you so damn bad.”

She lifts up again and lowers. I tip my hips, and her mouth unhinges. “I like that.”

She drops forward, her hands hitting the bed. We move against each other, finding our rhythm in a mix of pants and frantic heartbeats.

My cock swells, loving it inside her. I lift up quickly, coaxing her into a faster rhythm. She moans. “Oh…oh my—” She dissolves into a groan.

“Uh-huh,” I tell her.

Leaning up, I lock my lips around her nipple, flicking her with my tongue. She moves faster, calling out my name. I touch her everywhere, sliding my hands over her ass and then squeezing her breast, tweaking her nipple.

“This feels amazing,” she mewls.

“It doesn’t hurt still?”

She shakes her head, using her hips to slide down me.

“That’s good because you’re killing me.”

She stops. “I am?”

I smile. “It’s the perfect torture, Angel. Don’t you worry.”

Leaning forward, she kisses a trail up my chest, over my neck to my jaw. Eventually, she presses her lips to mine, kissing me lazily at first, then with more passion. Her movements get jerkier. I thrust up, grabbing her ass to bring her down.

Feeling her body work over me and knowing this is her first experience, I can’t get past it. I want more. I want it all. I want this first thing in the morning and before I go to bed every night. I want this as my prize for winning a game.

The more I think about our future, the more I lift up into her. “Aidan, yes.”

I hold her in place and thrust up into her. She writhes against me, both of us frantically trying to finish.

I know the moment Bailey realizes she’s going to come. I watch as her movements even out, taking me in long and deep. When it hits, she cries out my name, and I jerk inside her, following after her with a long groan. Her eyes round. We keep moving together, moaning in tune with the other.

Breathless, she stares down at me. Beads of perspiration gather between her breasts, and I lift up to lick them off.

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