Page 110 of A Pizza My Heart

He breaches my opening, stretching me to that delicious point where pain and pleasure meet.

“Breathe,” he encourages, and I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath.

I exhale and he buries himself inside me fully, pulling me flush against his lap.

“You… Sweet hell,” he hums.

His hands curl into my hair, fisting the long locks and pulling my head back to expose my neck. He drags his tongue up the uncovered column of my neck and sucks my earlobe between his teeth.

“Better than I imagined.”

“Y-You’ve i-imagined this?”

He drives into me, his free hand wandering under my shirt. He deftly pulls the cups of my bra down, freeing my nipples.

“So much.”

He rolls my perked buds between his fingers, and I dig my hands into his thighs, the sensations getting to be too much. I can already feel another orgasm working its way to the peak.

“We were never in your kitchen, but I’ve imagined you many ways. In my bedroom…”

The jeans he never took off rub against my naked thighs as he pushes into me over and over, the scratchy material feeling like silk beneath me.

“In my bed.”

I whimper when he abandons my breasts. He chuckles, and if he didn’t feel so amazing inside me right now, I’d be annoyed.

He inches his hand lower, pulling my skirt up and finding my still swollen clit.

“In my truck.”

My pussy clenches around him when he says this and he hisses, grasping my hair tighter and driving into me harder, faster. He works his lips up and down my neck, shifting between licking and biting me. I’m certain I’ll have marks tomorrow, but I don’t care right now. Right now, all I care about is how Foster feels inside me…like he was made to be there.

Everything feels so…right.

I meet his thrusts with drives of my own, shoving his hand out of the way to rub my clit in the way I know I need it right now.

He laughs and smacks at my ass again, bucking under me so hard and fast our thighs are slapping together, the noise echoing around the kitchen.

Our breaths are harsh, loud, and full of so much pleasure.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he warns.

“You want a cookie?” I mutter.

He yanks my head back again and I hiss, loving that fine painful-pleasure-filled line he’s riding.

I squeeze my pussy again and he moans.

“Son of a bitch,” he spits, barely holding himself together. “Please tell me you’re close.”

“So close.”

Like he knows exactly what I need, I feel his thumb press against my asshole, drawing small circles over the sensitive spot, and my legs begin to shake, my orgasm hovering near.

He drops his head against my temple, holding me to him, and sighs.

This moment with Foster inside me…his hands on my body touching me in places I never thought I’d be touched…the way his heartbeat is synced up with mine…the way his breath sounds like it’s forever caught in his throat…everything about it…

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