Page 47 of Single Mom's Secret Diary
Annoying.
When I don’t spot her, I close the door and lock it.
Avery is in the corner, looking over my bookcase. It’s a lot of chemistry, statistics, and recipe books. A few hard science-fiction books that don’t have any romance.
I wish I ventured into those more now. I might have a clue as to what I’m doing with Avery if I had.
She turns to me, tipping her head to the side as she meets my stare.
Tossing my paperwork on my desk, I advance on her, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her against me.
Avery’s mouth parts, her breasts pressing into my chest and her hands gripping my shoulders. Maybe I don’t need the help. Maybe I just need the right woman.
I sweep a hand into her hair, tip her head back, and kiss her. She opens to me without resistance. The touch of her tongue tears heat through me. My skin is tight and uncomfortable, need pulsing down my center and making my cock hard.
Avery notices, rubbing against it with a moan muted by my kiss.
Fuck, this is exactly what I’ve been daydreaming about.
I reach down to lift her in my grip, and her legs wrap easily around my waist before I turn and set her on the oversized, plush chair.
Her skirt gathers high on her thighs, and I vaguely register how much more often she’s worn them recently instead of her slacks as my hands cup her thighs and slide up to her hips. I shift back to look down at her and the soft, tanned skin under my palms.
“You’re so soft.” I stroke her thighs, amazed by how my pinky and thumb span perfectly across the inside and outside of her pliable flesh. Fuck, I want to sink my teeth into it.
Her laughter is sweet and husky. “You look like an angry god.”
My brow jumps. “Why?”
“So intense and stony, like you’re planning to destroy me.” The way she says it doesn’t sound negative.
To be fair, I am thinking of ways I could destroy her, mark her skin with my mouth, my teeth, my hands, my cock until her skin is pink and red from my attention. I know she can take it. She has before.
“You’re not wrong.”
She wriggles under me a little, eyes hooded and dark as her knees spread higher.
Sinking lower, I kiss the inside of her knee and tug her slender panties down her hips, needing to regulate my breath as I lean down to splay her folds open with my tongue. I moan against her clit.
Her back arches, so I grab a firm hold of her and get a better, slower, more thorough taste. I’m addicted to the small noises she makes as she tries to keep quiet. To the way her hand grips my hair, twisting and tightening with her pleasure. To how her hips writhe under my ministrations until she comes.
I peer up at her as she cries out against her forearm, her teeth pinching the fabric as I slide two fingers inside her and suck on her clit. Her cry gets a little louder, lower as she takes it.
My cock strains against my slacks, throbbing, hard, and ready.
I may not have a lot of time, but I’m going to take as many orgasms as possible. Making her come is much more satisfying the fourth and fifth time when my cock is finally deep inside her. Avery gets tight, and her muscles squeeze me…
Sucking harder has her whimpering. My fingers twist inside her until I find that spot that makes her toes curl and her legs shake. Circling my tongue over her clit and giving a few flicks, I settle into a steady stroke.
She squeaks and jerks before her moans mimic my movements. When she bears down over my fingers, I’m prepared for her second orgasm, keeping my grip firm as she bucks against me. I slide my tongue along my fingers, stroking her in opposition as she sobs above me.
So fucking wet. Like devouring ripe fruit, but hot.
Avery trembles, but she’s not writhing so hard anymore. I lay her leg over my shoulder and down my back so I can reach around her hip to press her clit with my thumb.
Her groan sounds painful, but the agony on her face propels me harder. It’s only been a few minutes. She can take more. And she doesn’t push me away. It makes me search for the new sensitive spot that’s going to make her break apart again.
This one takes a little more time, a little harder thrusts, a third finger, but Avery grinds up against my face with the sweetest little pleading sounds. I want her to take it, to claim the climax I’m offering.
