Page 27 of Swept Away
“How much time do we have…?” I ask, swept away in a trance, my eyes connected to his.
“Enough…” he says with a smile, and I know what that means when he brings his hand to his jeans and unfastens his belt.
His zipper goes down while I look at him with curiosity.
He grabs the bottom of my T-shirt and rides it up over my shoulders before unbuttoning my shorts and flicking my zipper down.
My T-shirt ends up on the kitchen table while his fingers slink inside my panties and dip between my folds.
Just like that.
“Fuck, you shaved…” he says, spreading my moisture around while I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning.
I never thought I’d have his hand on me again.
The tension from his hand and my shorts that are still clinging to me do me in.
With the other hand, he undoes the remaining buttons and opens his shirt all the way.
His cheeks are flushed, his eyes lustful when he brings his hand to my back, flicks my bra open, tears it off, and drops it to the floor.
“I want to come on your tits, baby,” he growls, tilting his chin toward my chest. “But let's do this first.”
He nudges me around and pulls me back into his chest, his erection pressing into my lower back, his mouth breathing fire into my hair.
“How many times do you want to come?” he asks next to my ear with a grin.
I laugh because his question is ridiculous.
People are waiting for us outside. Plus, I usually come once if I’m lucky.
He pushes my shorts to my thighs and runs his fingers through my folds, stroking my clit before curling his middle finger and sliding it into me.
I jerk against his chest and crash into his bulge.
His hand is wet from stroking me as he rolls his hips and rubs his hard length against my back.
With one smooth gesture, he brushes my hair over my shoulder and kisses my neck. Sexy, paced, arousing kisses that make me pulse against his hand.
I lean against his chest as he moves his touch even lower and strokes my clit with the heel of his hand, finger fucking me at the same time.
It probably won’t take me long as I grind against his touch, wanting to feel it deeper and deeper.
He brings his other hand to my chest and roughly kneads my boobs, occasionally rolling my beaded nipples between his fingers, and making me yelp.
My pleasure quickly shoots up.
Moaning and pressing my hands into his thighs, I close my eyes and let him drag me to the finish line.
A swirl of pulsations sweeps through my center, and I only long for more of the same.
What was he talking about? Going out?
My knees feel like rubber, my legs shaking, my hair damp with sweat.
Steam flows from my lips as I struggle to steady myself, still experiencing the aftershocks.
He removes his hand from between my legs and holds me against him, making me aware of the tension in his cock.
