Page 109 of Practice Makes Perfect
“Fuck, Em,” he hisses, hands grasping my hips. “That view…”
I glance over my shoulder to see him staring at where our bodies join, his expression a mix of awe and intense desire. It makes me feel impossibly sexy, and I move with renewed confidence, bracing my hands on his thighs as I ride him.
The new position hits different spots inside me, and I feel the pleasure building faster now, a tightening low in my belly that promises something explosive.
His grip on my hips tightens as he helps guide my movements, occasionally thrusting up to meet me. And, just as I think I might be getting close, he sits up suddenly, his chest against my back, arms wrapping around to cup my breasts.
“I need to feel more of you,” he whispers against my ear, his breath hot on my skin.
He maneuvers us with surprising grace, lifting me off him and guiding me onto my hands and knees. Before I can miss the fullness of him inside me, he’s positioning himself behind me, guiding himself back inside.
“Is this okay?” he asks, the head of his cock teasing me.
“Yes,” I nod eagerly. “Please.”
He pushes in slowly, and I let out a long, low moan at the sensation.
“God, you’re so tight,” he groans. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“It’sperfect,” I gasp, pressing back against him. “Keep going.”
He pushes forward, filling me completely in one smooth, delicious slide. My breath catches—the angle is different like this, somehow deeper, more intense. He pauses, letting me adjust, his hands running soothingly along my spine.
“You good?” His voice is strained with the effort of holding back.
“So good,” I gasp, wiggling my hips slightly to test the sensation.
That’s all the permission he needs. He grips my hips and begins to move, establishing a rhythm that has me gasping with each thrust. The pressure builds immediately, a coiling tension low in my belly that grows tighter and tighter.
“Linc—” My voice comes out high and desperate.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, one hand sliding around to find my clit. The moment his fingers make contact, stars explode behind my eyelids.
My climax crashes through me and I cry out, unrestrained and lost in sensation. My arms wobble, then give out entirely, my face and chest collapsing onto the mattress while my hips remain elevated, still connected to him.
“Don’t stop,” I pant once I can form words again. “Keep going.Use me.”
“Use you, huh?” There’s a smile in his voice. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” I mumble into the sheets. “As a reward for everything you’ve taught me and everything you mean to me.”
He chuckles, his thrusts resuming but at a gentler pace. “That’s not how this works, Em. One orgasm is just par for the course.”
“Par?” I shoot a glance over my shoulder. “Are we golfing now? Because I’ve never played, but I think I might be good at it if it feels like this.”
His laugh is warm and genuine. “Well, I do like to see howmanystrokes it takes?—”
“Oh my god, stop,” I giggle, dropping my face back to the sheets.
He doesn’t stop, though. With my upper body relaxed against the mattress and my ass still raised, he continues moving inside me. This time it’s slower, more deliberate.
The sensation is different now—less frantic, more sensual. I can feel every inch of him sliding in and out. The intensity builds differently this time, a gradual ascension rather than a desperate climb.
“I can feel you getting close again,” he murmurs, and I marvel at how he seems to know my body better than I do.
“How—” My question dissolves into a moan as he adjusts his angle slightly, hitting a spot that sends electricity racing up my spine.
“Because you gettighter,” he explains, voice strained. “And you make these little sounds—these perfect little gasps?—”
