Page 48 of Perfect Pairing
“I’m on birth control,” I managed to gasp out as my orgasm crested higher.
“That’s my girl. I’d fill that pussy with my cum until it was dripping out of you. God, I’d kill to see that, to see my cum slipping down your thighs after I fucked you.”
“I’m close,” I said, though it came out as more of a whisper, the edges of my vision darkening with my impending release. The pressure at my clit was nearly unbearable, and I pumped the vibrator faster, imagining Ezra’s hips slamming into me, driving his cock deep inside me over and over, fucking me recklessly.
I wanted him to fall apart for me, to be as consumed by me as I was by him.
“Get there, honey. Come for me. Come all over that toy youwish was my fat cock.”
“Ez!” I shouted as I crashed, the wave of my climax pulling me under. My body spasmed so hard, I barely managed to keep my phone upright, to let Ezra coach me through it, murmuring praises as I lost all sense of time and space.
I came back to my body in time to watch Ezra barrel toward his release, his hand flying over his shaft as he gritted his teeth.
“Come for me,” I whispered as I struggled to catch my breath. The three words he’d given me repeated back to him triggered his undoing.
I watched, enraptured, as he came in great, long spurts, that milky liquid coating his fist, his balls, his thighs, his stomach. His chest rose and fell rapidly as his hand slowed then left his cock to swipe across his abdomen, marveling at his cum covering his hand.
With a blissed-out smile, he met my eyes in the phone and said, “You’ve made a mess of me.”
That makes two of us.
MAY
“You’ll never guess whathappened today,” Brie said in lieu of a proper greeting when she connected our FaceTime call an evening in the middle of May.
“Considering I’m over three hundred miles away and not a mind reader, you’re probably right.”
Brie rolled her eyes, and I chuckled. I loved riling her up.
“Okay, smartass,” she said, grinning. “So you know how my apprenticeship ends next month?”
“Yes.”
I was, in fact, well aware of the end of her time in Chicago. Despite our agreement to remain friends, I didn’t think either of us could deny that something more was cooking between us these last few months. I wanted her to come home, wanted the opportunity to see where it could lead.
So maybe I had the date she was moving back marked down on the calendar in my phone, and I might have been counting down the days.
Yeah, I was down bad. Fucking sue me.
“Well, apparently, Bryce wants to test me one final time before I move on from her instruction, so she’s setting up this sort ofIron Chef-inspired competition for me to participate in.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “She’s not messing around.”
“No, she’s not. I’m really nervous, actually.”
“Don’t be. You’re going to kick your opponent’s ass.”
“Oh, Ez,” she said with a soft giggle. “I’m going up against Bryce.”
“What?” I shouted then winced, my ears perking up to listen for any sounds from the other bedrooms. When the house beyond my walls remained still, I returned my attention to Brie.
“Yeah…” she trailed off. “Even if I don’t beat her, it’s not the end of the world. It’s just a friendly competition to see how I perform under pressure and to test how well I’ve retained everything she’s taught me, but…”
“But you want to win.”
“Of course, I want to win,” she said. “Wouldn’t you? Could you imagine being able to say you beat Bryce Newsome in a head-to-head pastry bake-off?”
“Well, no,” I said, grinning when she made a noise of protest. “But I’d never be in that position. We both know pastries are not my forte.”
