Page 121 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
My stomach contracts as I struggle to get enough breath in my lungs.
He’s not going easy on me, and he knows my body well enough that it barely takes him any time to drag me to the edge and throw me right off of it. His name is a panted prayer on my lips. A plea for him to go easy on me, to give me more, to give me everything.
He doesn’t stop there. He laps at my wetness and sucks on my clit. I can’t stay still, and my hips move, rocking against his face.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “Ride my face.”
The next thing I know he’s on his back and pulling me up and over his body until my core hovers over his mouth.
“Sit and give me this pussy.”
Before I can do as I’m told, he’s already pulling me down. With a gasp, I grab onto his headboard.
“Spencer,” I cry out. Somehow, I seemed to have shoved the memory from my mind of just how good he is with his mouth. His hands grip onto my ass, kneading the flesh and pushing me down even farther on his face. My legs are practically squeezing his head, but if he minds, he doesn’t show it. The sounds he makes as he eats me out are purely those of pleasure. He told me once he’d be happy to spend the rest of his life between my legs and I didn’t believe him then, but I do now.
When I come again, he grabs me before I can fall to the side and gently guides me down to lay on his bed. His lips find mine and I taste myself on his tongue. I cup his cheek in one hand, holding him to me, while my other hand slides down his muscled torso to dip beneath his athletic shorts. Just as I thought, he has nothing on underneath.
“Oh, fuck,” he curses when my hands fists around his hard length. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, squishing his eyes shut. “I hope you’re prepared for more than one round because I’m thoroughly about to embarrass myself.”
“You weren’t lying, were you? When you said it had only been me?”
His eyes pop open, the blue almost entirely swallowed by his dilated pupils. “I would never lie about that, Harlow.”
I whimper at the way he says my name, the desperation and longing in it. I heard Poppy say once that she wants a man who yearns, and that’s exactly what Spencer has done with me.
His lips skim over my neck, sucking on my pulse point. I stroke him with my hand, his hips pumping against me.
“Need this off,” he groans, pulling at my top. I release his cock and sit up, yanking at the shirt myself. I’ve barely gotten it off and he’s popping the clasp on my bra and yanking it off my arms. He openly gapes at me, and I worry something’s wrong, but then he says, “Holy fuck, I love these.” He wets his lips with his tongue.
I lean back on my elbows and his eyes stay glued to my breasts. “You can touch them.”
He cups my breasts, rolling his thumbs over the puckered buds. I moan, dropping my head back onto his plush pillow. A gasp flies out of me at the first flick of his tongue over my nipple. He squeezes my right breast and fully sucks on my left nipple before moving to the other to give it the same attention.
“Take your shorts off,” I beg.
He chuckles, letting my nipple go with a pop. “You really want this to be over quick, don’t you?” he jokes.
“No,” I whine. “But I need you in me so fucking bad.”
“Fuck, baby.” He nips at the curve of my breast. “When you say it like that…” he trails off and I groan in desperation.
Rolling off of me, he slides his short off and I get my first sight of him in years entirely bare for me. I eye his dick, eager to suck him off. I start to move to do just that, but he reads me and gives my shoulder a gentle shove back down onto the bed.
“If you put your mouth on me right now, I’m going to explode.”
He climbs out of the bed, and I mewl in protest. “Where are you going?” I whine, my body achy and needy for his touch.
He looks over his shoulder at me and I nearly whimper from the view. He’s so much bigger than the last time I saw him like this. Wide, muscular shoulders that taper down into a trim waist, and an ass that looks like it was hand-picked by a Greek god. He catches me staring and the smirk on his mouth is pure male satisfaction.
I can’t even be grouchy over his pleasure in finding me checking him out. He looksthatgood.
“I’m grabbing condoms,” he answers me before he disappears into the bathroom. A cabinet opens and closes and then he returns with an unopened box. Squinting, he scrutinizes the box. “We’re in luck. They’re not expired.”
He rips open the top and grabs one. The muscles in his stomach flex as he bites into the foil and rips it off. He rolls the condom on, holding eye contact with me the entire time.
“Come here.” He crooks his finger, and I scoot across the bed. I’m not quite to him when he grabs my ankle and yanks me to the edge of his bed.
A small squeal rips out of me when he loops his arms around my legs and lines up our bodies.
