Page 86 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream
Oh. Lord.His words make me feel light-headed. Or maybe that’s the blood rushing at breakneck speed to the cluster of nerve-endings beneath my fingers.
“Harder, baby. This is so fucking hot. You’ve got this.”
I’m writhing on his thighs and he isn’t even touching me. It’s me. I’m making myself feel like this and he’s watching it all.
“Make love to that fucking beautiful clit for me.”
A blinding heat slams into my lower spine and I cry out. My fingers falter with the intensity of my orgasm. I feel his hands ram up beneath my arms and I’m lifted into the air. He attaches his mouth to my pussy and sets off a new, hard, extreme set of convulsions through my blood, shattering my insides. I grip his hair and sob ashe licks and sucks ferociously, drawing climax after climax from my core.
When I literally cannot come anymore he lowers me to his chest and strokes my back until all my tears are spent.
“Sera?” he whispers, his throat hoarse.
I keep my face buried in his chest. “Mm-hm.”
“That was fucking incredible.”
I feel too weak to respond, too weak to lift my head even.
“Let’s get you tucked in.”
He pulls back the bedsheets and pops me under the comforter as though I’m as light as a feather.
“I’ll be right back.”
I find strength from somewhere and sit up. “Where are you going?”
I know exactly where he’s going. He’s going to the bathroom, like he always does after he’s made me come. I want to know why.
He stands at the side of the bed, his shirt partially ripped, his pants creased but fully intact. His lip curls up in one corner. “To the bathroom. For a little privacy.”
“Are you going to jerk off?” I don’t think I’ve ever said those words before and they make me feel dirty. Dirty and hot. I stare at him, my insides twisting in disbelief. How can Istillfeel hot?
He shoves his hands in his pockets which only makes the enormous bulge in his pants more prominent. “Of course I am, baby. I won’t be able to walk until I get rid of this hard on.”
“Don’t go,” I whisper. “I want to watch you too.”
His brow knits. “You want to watch me jerk off?”
I nod eagerly.
Keeping his eyes on me, he pulls his hands out of his pockets, unzips his slacks and steps out of them. When his boxers join them on the floor I cast my gaze timidly to his cock, then swallow hard. It stands upright, the skin taut, a dark pink hue.
He climbs back onto the bed and leans back against the pillows. Then he points to a spot further down the bed which I shift to. Then I sit on my knees and wait.
His gaze locks onto mine as he wraps a hand around his cock, but I can’t help but look down to watch the movement of his strokes. They’re tight and firm and unrelenting, like he’s punishing himself for getting turned on.
His chest rises and falls, the pace of his breaths quickening. His gaze still doesn’t move from my face.
“Keep watching my cock like that and I will come in seconds.”
I do. When a glistening pearl appears on the tip, something innate pushes me forward onto my hands and knees, over his tensed thighs, and before he can stop me, I dart my tongue over it, swiping the liquid into my mouth.
The saltiness startles me, but not as much as the white-hot rage barely concealed beneath his fixed jaw. His free hand connects with my breast bone, holding me at arm’s length and he continues to stroke himself, harder and more forcefully than before. I lower onto histhighs and watch intensely, glued to the way his cock thickens, widens, lengthens.
His nostrils flare, his breaths shorten, and a low growl rises up from his chest. Then his balls tighten and white semen shoots out of the crown onto his stomach. He stills, squeezing his hand tight around his length, his eyes glazing over as he watches me watching him come.
His chest heaves with gasped breaths that almost match mine. That was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen. I extend my arm, and before his reflexes can kick in, I’ve scooped up a fingerful of his semen and I’m sucking it off the tip. The saltiness makes my taste buds burst and my mouth water.
