Page 76 of The Best Kind of Forever
He removes my shirt a lot more delicately than last time. He probably would’ve torn my bra off too if those things weren’t so expensive. His touch roams every square inch of me, tracing the slope of my waist. There’s something both wild and docile about it, and the buzzing sensation that overcomes me is comforting in a way that words will never be. He pulls my lower lip between his teeth, tugging just enough to lightly bruise the delicate skin. When his tongue flicks over the bite, warmth reaches every part of me with an unprecedented determination.
Every nerve inside of me is electrified with an inexplicable feeling—a feeling of two souls being bonded together, a sacred bridge rising between two minds, connecting us by the thinnest thread in the universe.
With heavy eyelids, he pours the remainder of the chocolate sauce down the front of my chest, and as soon as the stickiness hits my skin, my whole body shudders. Dark brown liquid slathers my flesh, trickling down my stomach and into the waistband of my pants.
I throw my head back, letting him devour my tits, and he rolls my pert nipple between his long fingers. A moan levitates up my throat, my hand jerking roughly in his hair.
He notches his groin against my denim-clad cunt. My underwear is already damp with arousal, restricting my movement. I want them off. I want nothing between us. I want to be skin to skin with him.
He’s breathing so heavily that it sounds like a jackhammer in my ears. “Be a good girl. Tell me all the ways you want me to fuck you.”
“I want you to fuck me so hard that I forget my own name. I don’t want to be able to walk straight for days. I want to have bruises all over my skin from your hands and your teeth, and I want my vagina to be so sore that I can’t imagine ever taking another inch of you.”
“Fuckingdone.”
I’m on autopilot when I lift his shirt over his head, flinging it somewhere to the side. I use my breasts to smear the chocolate around his chest, watching as his skin shines under the canopy of sweet confectionary. I bite my tongue to stop from licking every drop off of him.
I lower myself onto the floor, right between his knees, dipping my lips down to the mountain range of his abs. The aroma from the chocolate is disorienting in the best way, and I tongue his navel, watching his stomach hollow.
“Fuuuck.” He lolls his head back, his hand tightening in my hair, pulling at my scalp. The needy whimper sticking in his throat stokes embers of passion inside of me—embers only for him.
I end my expedition at the top of his faint happy trail, and then my fingers move down to unzip his pants and pull down his boxers, letting his cock leap out in all its eight-inch glory. It’s angry and red from neglect, and it shines with a pearl of pre-cum over the swollen head.
“I love how hard you are for me,” I breathe, tracing my finger along the dominant vein running up his shaft.
His dick spasms, and his hands dig deeper into my sides. “And I love how hard you make me.”
I shed my jeans and my thong in record time, leaving us both naked and covered in chocolate. He pulls me back onto his lap, and my pussy is sopping when his fingers strum the overstimulated area. His penis nearly covers half my torso with its erect state, and my cunt palpitates from the proximity alone.
Hayes slides his fingers inside me without preamble, stretching out my walls, hunting for that special spot that makes me scream his name and fist his hair. They curve and flit, gaining momentum until a loud moan slips out of me.
My upper body shivers, and I pull myself closer to him, my nails scratching his back harshly as they search for relief. “Wait, we need a—”
He twirls his digits in an expert circle, and the sensation budding inside of me cuts off my train of thought.
“I got tested a while ago. I’m clean. But I can go—”
“No,” I stop him, stilling under his hand. “I have an IUD. We’re good.”
It’s criminal the way he pumps inside of me, now knuckles-deep inside my swollen cunt.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he growls, removing his drenched fingers.
I shuttle my entrance over his dick, which is pulsing with anticipation to shunt inside of me. The first stretch is the most delicious. The moment his tip sidles against my core, I instantly clench around his shaft, and vertigo plays with the edges of my vision. I feel so full, the pressure in my cervix growing with each passing moment.
His breath mutates into a guttural rumble that shakes my frame. “If you’re going to continue milking me like that, you better be ready to watch my cum drip out of you.”
When he goes to silence my mewls, I can taste the bitter tang of chocolate on his tongue. There’s a slow crawl of heat that sprawls in my stomach when he bucks against me, every banded muscle in his torso tightening like a rope.
His hands are firmly dug into my sides to keep me in place as I ride him. He pistons his hips against my pelvis, something heady darkening in his eyes. I arch against him to grant him a better angle, and I can feel a burning pain blaze up from where his nails are breaking through my skin.
“Fucking hell, Aeris. I need to feel every inch of you. Please let me feel every inch of you.”
The faster I go, the quicker his self-control vanishes, and I’m cherishing every single moment of him begging for mercy. Hayes Hollings. Begging. That’s an Eighth Wonder of the World.
A symphony of moans ruptures the sex-fueled atmosphere. We nearly tip over the chair we’re both on as Hayes’ arm shoots out to grip the edge of the table. The only noise in my ears is the squelching of skin on skin, the slapping of my ass on his solid thighs, and the slurping of my vagina as I slide effortlessly over his erection.
His length twitches inside of me. “Fuck me,” he groans, his chest heaving.
