Page 84 of Bad Habit
His hand moved off my clit and slid down to circle my opening, applying gentle pressure there that felt delicious. “Let me know if you’re too sore.”
I nodded and started to roll onto my back to be ready for him, but he pulled my thigh up and over his hip, and then, as we lay on our sides, he slowly pushed inside me.
I pulled in long, open-mouthed breaths as he tunneled forward. It was like every cell inside me was welcoming him back, waking up to greet him as he slid farther and farther inside me. I was sore, but it was a good sore, like the stiffness the day after rigorous exercise.
Once he was fully seated, our hip bones kissing, he held the back of my head and then, looking into my eyes, he rocked his body against mine slowly, the slight friction so delicious and even more pleasurable given his tenderness and the emotions flowing through me, the emotions I felt sure were flowing through him, too, even if he couldn’t admit it. His eyes said all the words I needed to hear.
He took my face between his hands, and the intensity of our rocking increased, his thick member sliding inside me as if it belonged there, as if it had always belonged there, and I wondered how my body had functioned twenty-two years without ever having had him inside me.
“You’re amazing,” he said, and then he kissed me.
Our lips joined, our tongues caressing, our sex organs bound together, and I lost all sense of time and place, like we were linked together in outer space, no gravity, no bed beneath us and no Vegas outside the windows, just our bodies and our mouths moving together in one endless dance I never wanted to end.
But at some point, our lips did part. His hands moved to my bottom and pulled me against him more tightly as he slid inside me with more speed and urgency.
His face turned red, veins rising on his temples, then his mouth opened. His eyes closed and he shouted my name, along with some curse words, as his body tensed and then shuddered, thrusting a few hard times before relaxing completely. He turned onto his back, pulling me on top of him.
It seemed like he’d fallen asleep, but his hands proved he hadn’t. They caressed my body, stroking me as if he could never get enough. I knew I couldn’t. I loved this man and I loved how it felt with his hands touching me like this, so gentle and intimate, so personal and loving.
Even if Mac didn’t love me, I knew that he cared for me, and I knew that I’d never stop loving him.
Moaning, he lifted my chin so I could look into his eyes.
“Holy shit, Faith.”
I grinned, not able to come up with a response that would capture the sentiment better than he had.
“I don’t know why it’s so hard to admit it.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “No, I do know why. It’s because I don’t deserve you. Not in a million years do I deserve you. But I can’t help it. Fuck. I love you. Faith, I love you so fucking much.”
Before I could respond, he pushed me onto my back, slid down my body, and took my sensitive clit into his mouth.
