Page 106 of Sharkbait
I want as much as he’ll give me.
I unbutton his pants.
He slides them down at the same time I’m lifting my skirt. He rolls a condom on in record time, positions himself right where I want him, and enters me in one long, delicious thrust.
I gasp.
Tears come to my eyes.
Not from pain, but from the sheer pleasure and relief of being with him again like this.
If I’m honest with myself, I’ve wanted this for so long.
“Oh my God, that’s good,” I breathe.
“Louise, you are fucking amazing,” he moans as he begins to pump.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” I say and grip his ass.
“Why the hell would I stop, baby?”
He continues to worship that spot on my neck while I knead the muscles in his back and run my hands up to caress his skull.
He reaches under us and cups my ass, pulling me closer, deepening our connection.
It’s like he can’t get close enough.
I feel the same exact way.
All I want is more, more, more.
“I could live inside you, Louise.”
“Fine by me,” I pant.
“You are absolutely everything. The things I would do for you, if you’d let me.”
He’s relentless in his pace like he knows we’re running out of time, and he wants to give me every ounce of pleasure he can before the clock runs out.
I feel the build swirling in me, curling my toes and shooting up my spine. My head presses back into the couch as my mouth opens in ecstasy. He seals his mouth to mine and swallows my moan as he pumps harder, faster, chasing and lengthening my release as far as it can go until it his own orgasm meets mine and we ride out the waves together, over and over, in an undulating sea of bliss.
His weight settles over me, his breaths rising and falling with mine. His heart beats a steady, satisfied rhythm against my chest.
I want to memorize everything about this moment.
Everything about him.
In that instant, all thoughts of a one-night stand evaporate.
I will take this man for as many nights as he’ll have me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
James
Later that night, we’re snuggling on the couch under a soft blanket, watching the rest ofSplash, which is—as Louise mentioned—way more problematic than I remember when I watched it as a kid.
Her head is resting on my chest.
