Page 63 of My Turn Petal
“Pick a song,” he hands me my phone that lies on my pillow.
I browse through my playlists, “Are you going to lap dance for me?”
“Something like that.”
The excitement tingles from my head all the way down to my toes.
When the first sound of breathing comes from the song Breathe by Kansh, Theo’s hips start thrusting slowly into me.
He palms my face and urges me to look into his eyes.
His intense gaze is driven with passion and desire as he moves his body to the beat.
My clit beats too.
My body’s temperature rises.
Like listening to a heartbeat, he switches between thrusting and puffing his chest to mine. Again. Again. And again.
My breath gets caught mid-way into my lungs when he grazes my thighs.
He flips us—so now I straddle his lap—and resumes thrusting in me while he pushes and pulls my hips. His face is buried between my breasts and trails to my neck.
All at the same time.
My black fingernails scratch his neck and the back of his head.
“Mmm,” our throaty groans fill the room.
Our eyes are still glued to each other as the second chorus hits.
He tosses me hard against the mattress, rolls to the side, and climbs back on top of me. His face between my thighs, pretending to eat me, and his hard cock glides along my neck.
He growls at my pussy, and I can’t contain another moan.
I squeeze his ass and run my fingers along his back.
A couple of rounds in the same position before he lies back on the mattress and pulls my hips on top of him again as the song fades.
My heavy breathing echoes in my ears as I shove the side of my face to his chest, hearing his loud heartbeats.
Brushing my hair delicately, he starts braiding it.
His light citrus scent floods my nostrils and makes my eyes close. I feel so at peace when he’s around me and his cock hardens as he continues to braid my hair.
Does nurturing me turn him on?
With my sleepy voice, I utter, “Mr. Rock hard ready for duty woke up.”
He chuckles softly. “I think taking care of you does it for me.”
“Do you want to braid my hair more often?”
“If you want me to,” he clears his voice, “I guess.”
“I don’t mind, it makes me calm.”
He caresses my cheek. “Goodnight, Frankie.” He resumes to play with my hair.
