Page 81 of Eat Slay Love

I cupped them fully, both hands barely able to contain the sheer, overwhelming size of her.

My thumbs dragged over the lace-covered peaks, feeling the way she trembled under my touch.

Perfect.

Fucking perfect.

I wanted everything.

To peel the lace away with my teeth.

To press my tongue against the deep valley between them, kissing, tasting, marking.

To bury my face in them, to savor their warmth, their weight, the way they spilled over my hands like a feast made for a starving man.

I growled, squeezing just enough to make her gasp.

"You were made for this,chérie." My lips curled into a smirk, and my thumbs flicked against her nipples.

She let out the softest moan, and fuck, I nearly lost it.

The things I plan to do with these.

I could already see it.

A future moment, a night where I would take my time, strip her bare, and watch those perfect, big soft mounds bounce as she rode me.

Or better yet, I would have her on her back. Her lips parted, her big, dark brown eyes looking up at me with that delicious mixture of surrender and mischief, her breasts pressed together, forming the most perfect, tight, wet heat.

I could see myself there, kneeling before her, guiding my cock between those breasts, slick with oil, or perhaps the mess we had already made.

My hands would slide under the heavy curves, pressing them together, trapping me in their warmth.

I would thrust between those breasts, slow at first, letting her feel every thick inch of my cock dragging along her skin, teasing the sensitive peaks, watching as her dark nipples hardened from the friction.

She would moan for me, that pretty mouth open, her tongue flicking out just barely as if she knew exactly how to drive me insane.

My pace would quicken, my breath ragged, the sound of wet, obscene pleasure filling the space around us.

My cock would glide between them, hot, swollen, desperate, the tip brushing against her lips each time I thrust forward.

And then—that final moment.

When I would growl her name, fists tightening around her breasts, body locking up as hot, thick ropes of white cum spilled onto her throat, her chin, her beautiful, flushed cheeks.

FUCK!!!

Pre-cum spilled into my pants.

I exhaled sharply, forcing myself back to the present, to the way she shivered under my hands, completely unaware of how close I was to losing it right here, right now.

Not yet.

But soon.

And when I finally had her like that, she wouldn’t just feel worshiped.

She would feel owned.

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