Page 13 of Spellbound
“Aw, lookie there, Elijah. You still know my name. I must be doing something wrong.
I trailed my tongue south, down his torso, outlining the rock hardness of his abs. This guy spent serious time in the gym. “How about this? Am I doing it better now?”
“Nothing to fix. You’re perfect. I love every fucking minute of it.” By now he was panting, gasping for air, struggling to speak.
I let my tongue follow his happy trail, then tugged the waistband of his underwear and slid them down. His cock popped out and bounced against his belly. Eli was immediately helpful, lifting his hips and kicking off his underwear when I had them to his ankles. While he worried about getting naked, I slid between his legs and sucked him full in my mouth.That got his attention.
Eli let out a roar of what damn well better be pure pleasure. I peered up at him, over the endless expanse of perfectly toned abs, and got my confirmation. His face was contorted in an expression of absolute bliss mixed with a little torment. With my mouth open wide and holding Eli’s rapt attention, I let his cock slide out over my tongue, then swirled the broad head and slowly, agonizingly so, slurped him back in. Jesus, he didn’t all fit.
Once I heard Sam, another reporter at theAlert, bragging about his penis size, but he was a jerk and I figured it was machismo. Eli’s cock was a whole different story. I let it slide out again, this time faster. And then took up a speedier pace, bobbing down till he hit my throat and then and back up till he nearly popped out. Eli was authentic; nothing exaggerated about it.
Eli grasped hold of my head—guiding my movements or holding on for dear life?I had my own theory about that. And then I felt it—felthim. His movements grew wild and uncontrolled. His cock swelled, stretched my mouth around him. The vein at the underside filled and was rigid against my tongue. He was on the verge.
And then he was gone. Pulled from my mouth and leaving me confused and bereft.
“The fuck, E—” No more time for words. He yanked me up and over him till our mouths fused and my bare pussy was in just the right spot for—
He ripped open a condom and slid it on, then slammed his dick into me. Right where I needed him most. Then I was clutching at him—the corded knots of his biceps, his bucking hips, the tight, flexing muscles of his ass—and there was no doubt who was holding on for dear life.
Me. It was me. If I let go, I’d fly off for sure. I loved every second of it. One of his arms wrapped around me, held me tight. The other squeezed between us and took hold of a breast, alternately smoothing it with his thumb and then pinching my nipple.
“Jesus, you feel good, Eegee. So hot.”
I pulled my knees up. He went deeper.
“So tight.” Pinch.
His fingertip swept my pebbled tip. I moaned. Straightened and braced my arms on his chest. Threw my head back and bounced.
“So soft.” His tongue brushed against a pebbled areola. His wet mouth sucked.
Eli’s eyes were half-lidded, his mouth slack, his hips jackhammering, his hands back on my bouncing breasts.
“So smooth.” He nipped.
Did he know that each pinch took me that much closer to an epic explosion?
“Fuck me, Eli. Don’t you dare stop.”
“You’re on top, babe. I’m not going anywhere.”
Eli’d been thrusting up into me at a rate that surprised and truly impressed me. The man had stamina. I slammed down onto him as he arched his back and drove into me, our bodies crashing together only to separate and pound into each other again. We kept up our pace, constant, relentless, nearly overwhelming. My legs quivered. My core was heavy and tight, starting at my clit and radiating throughout my body. I was close.
I reached back and took Eli’s balls in my hand. They were drawn up tight. I slid a finger up the base of his cock, massaging that bulging vein. Then reversed direction and hit him in his sweet spot. He growled.
“Don’t. Not yet. Just fucking don’t.”
Too late. With a sound that was part groan, part snarl, totally animalistic, and definitely heard in the next cabin, he shot his load. I jammed myself to him two, three more times as he continued to pump into me—and found the fireworks.
He collapsed to his back, prone on the bed. I fell onto him, our bodies fused from our mouths on down. Our tongues met and tangled. Sedately this time, more like a mating dance than a battle for dominance. My head raced and my senses whirled, and I had the sudden and inexplicable urge to lay my heart at his feet. Declare my love for him, along with a flood of devotion and unflagging desire.
Wait. What?
Yes. Yes! I long ago stopped searching for that one person to fill the gaps in my life, and then what happened? He went and fell into my lap. Well, I actually sort of fell into his lap. Semantics.
I was half in love with this man before we even met. Didn’t I already admit that? And now, after only one day—and one delicious night, my inner vixen pointed out—it felt as if he was my soulmate. The one I conjured in my dreams.
It was chemistry. It was lust. And sixth sense. Maybe it was karma or an angel watching over me. Whatever it was had me bursting with feelings I couldn’t contain, full of joy and a yearning to latch on to Eli and never let go. The sensation was exhilarating, exciting. It made me want to do handsprings and cartwheels.
