Page 118 of The Sebastian Guarantee
“That would be a hell yes.”
He shrugged his pants and boxer briefs to his ankles and came up behind her. Pressing his hard length against her ass, his cock wept, aching for her. She brushed her chocolate fingertip against his bottom lip, then eased it inside his mouth. He sucked like he was auditioning to play the part of a human vacuum.
“Somebody’s all in,” Phoebe remarked, taking notice of his enthusiasm.
He licked his lips. “Not yet. Bend over.”
She gripped the lip of the counter and bumped something with her elbow. It tittered and buzzed along the flat surface. “Oh dear! How did my Wham Bam end up in the kitchen?”
Like he said, he was the luckiest guy on the planet. That was the other thing about falling in love with your best friend. They knew each other inside and out. That meant they were comfortable when it came to dialing up the freaky factor.
He picked up the pulsing sex toy, then lifted her skirt. Lining up his cock with her entrance, he held the vibrator against her most sensitive place. Peppering her neck with kisses, he worked her sweet bud, wham-bamming the hell out of her. Emboldened by her sultry sighs, he reached beneath her T-shirt and massaged her breasts. She moaned, growing slicker by the second. He rocked his hips and nudged the tip of his cock inside her.
“Pick up a cookie,” he demanded over the hum of the vibrator.
“A cookie?” she panted.
“Then take a bite.”
This was the first time they’d drifted into food-porn sex, and he was there for it.
She plucked one of the sweet confections from the cooling rack and complied with his request. “Oh my God, Sebastian,” she groaned.
“Is it delicious?”
“Yes.”
He thrust his hips. Filling her to the hilt, he inhaled a sharp breath, savoring the moment.
“Your turn.” Her voice was a sexy wisp of a sound. She held the treat to his lips. He inhaled the buttery, chocolatey scent, then took a bite. The sex and cookies combo was the real deal. “Jesus, that’s good! From now on, every time we eat sweets, my cock needs to be buried deep inside you.”
“Every time?”
“Every time.”
She arched her back. “I’m good with that.”
With the scent of sex, cookies, and a demolished chocolate cake in the air, he pumped his hips. Their kitchenette escapade escalated, going from zero to sixty as he dialed up his pace. He couldn’t stop himself. There was no slowing down. He could feel the frantic pulse of the Wham Bam as he worked his fiancée, taking her hard and fast from behind while applying the sweet buzz to her sweet bud.
They’d barely been at it a few seconds when Phoebe bucked against him, moaning and panting, writhing against him. Wild and unconstrained, she cried out. “I’m so close, but I . . .”
“What is it?”
“The photo. I can’t come with my parents watching us.”
He glanced at the canister of coffee beans and then slid his gaze to the picture of Phoebe’s mom and dad. Was her dad glaring at him? He didn’t want to find out. He grabbed the frame and flipped it over. “Better?”
“Yeah. Oh, Sebastian,” she breathed, meeting him blow for blow. “I’m so close,” she exclaimed for the people in the next town over to hear.
It was probably a good thing they were moving out.
Between his cock and the pulse of the vibrator, she was on the brink of losing control. But she wasn’t the only one teetering on the precipice of bliss. He was close, too. She was tight and so wet for him.
Near delirious with need, he knew what to say to drive her into orgasmic oblivion. “Phoebe Gale,” he growled, resurrecting his accent.
“Yes?” she cried—again amplifying her voice for everyone in a fifty-mile radius that hadn’t heard her the first time.
“Princess of the Hot Dog Fairies . . .”
