Page 152 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“Please,” I beg.
“Please, what?” he demands.
“Fuck me,” I whimper.
My body is desperate for his even if I was in fight or flight mode during the entire dinner. There’s no denying the chemistry we have.
“Turn around.”
I face him and he eats me up with his eyes like I’m something to be both treasured and devoured.
He holds my eyes while he reaches up and unbuttons his shirt. When it hangs open, revealing his chest he pauses there, and I wonder what he’s waiting for.
“Take my clothes off and get on your knees and suck my cock.”
I almost clip out, “Yes, sir,” but I manage to swallow the words down.
I shove the fabric of his shirt off his wide shoulders, but before I can do more than that, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me in for a kiss.
“You’remine,” he growls with pure possession.
It hits me then, that maybe part of his motivation for proposing to me nowwasthe kiss with Spencer. He’s marking his territory, letting the world know that I’m his.
He lets me go and I stumble in my heels, but his hand is quick to latch onto my hip to steady me.
I undo his belt, then the button and zipper on his pants before I drop to my knees and yank them and his underwear down.
His cock springs free and I grip the base, giving him a solid stroke before I take him in my mouth.
“Fuck,”he drawls, head dropping back.
He reaches down, cupping the back of my head and uses it to guide my pace.
“Fuck, baby,” he croons. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.” I blush beneath his praise. “Fucking beautiful.”
Holding my head down, he waits until I gag before letting me go. His cock is wet with my saliva when I stroke him.
“Such a good girl,” he praises. “Get up.”
I must not do it fast enough for him, because the next thing I know I’m lifted onto the counter and he opens the junk drawer, fishing for a condom. He finds one and quickly rips it open and rolls it down his length.
Spreading me wide, he spears into me, and I cry out. My fingers grapple against his stomach for something to hold onto. The pace he sets is bruising, almost punishing. I take it and take it until I shatter apart around him.
“Look at you,” he croons. “You’re so fucking pretty when you come on my cock.”
He keeps up his punishing pace and comes quickly. Our bodies are slick with sweat, sticking together when he lifts me into his arms and carries me to the shower.
“This isn’t over,” he warns with delicious promise.”
I kiss him hard. Firm and possessive. “Good.”
It’s late, almost one in the morning, and the apartment glows from the infomercial playing in the background. Sitting on the countertop, I watch Jameson make us each a bowl of ice cream. I take my cookies ‘n cream from him and swirl my tongue around the spoon. His eyes dilate watching my tongue, even though he’s had me every which way over the last few hours. His graysweatpants hang low on his hips, and I have to say I can’t blame him, because I’m not sure my appetite for him is quite satiated.
“I love ice cream.”
He chuckles, leaning in to brush his lips against my cheek. “I know.” His eyes drop to the swells of my breasts. The camisole top I wear is practically see-through. “You’re going to be my wife.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses.
My stomach drops, my happy and light mood swirling down the drain.
