Page 59 of Holly Jolly Cake Fight
“Laurin,” she whimpered, the sight alone overwhelming.
“You’re stretching so fucking well for me,” he cooed as his pace picked up and the friction between them began to burn. “Such a good, tight slut, aren’t you?”
She nodded, the wordslutthrilling her. She did want to be that for Laurin. But she didn’t want to repeat it, and not just because it was so dirty.
She knew what he wanted from her; she knew he was demanding it be more than just some quickies while the camera was turned. He wanted to make a go at something more real, something that went home with them. A relationship. Candace wanted that too.
But he didn’t know what he was asking for. Knowing the mess she was and living it were very different beasts. He’d get exhausted with her and hurt her. And if he was as genuine as she thought he was, he wouldn’t mean to hurt her, and it would kill him when he inevitably did.
“I need to come,” she whined, desperate to get everything she could out of this before she had to end it. “Please, Laurin.”
He didn’t push her to say anything else, instead picking up a rough pace as he commanded her to play with herself.
And then commanding her to watch herself playing with herself.
It was too much. His voice, his touch, his heat, his scent consumed her, while the carnality of seeing her own sex as Laurin claimed it so brutally overwhelmed her. She saw her own orgasm, her rim suddenly seizing up on his cock, tightening around the base. When he pulled out, a river flowed down her thighs, soaking into the delicate lace stockings.
Laurin saw it, too. He growled, “Don’t you dare change those while you’re packing.” He came with a ragged groan as his cock jerked violently in her pulsing core before leaning into her, touching her everywhere possible, giving voice to the moment with a long, deep, satisfied rumble deep in his chest.
He pinned her there a moment longer as they caught their breath. She glanced up and saw the gentlest, laziest, most sated smile on his face.
He caught her looking, murmured, “Je t’aime, bonbon,” then carried her into the kitchen. He sat her back far enough on the corner of the kitchen table that he could spread her knees over either side and make himself enough space to prepare a cheeseboard right in front of her stretched, sopping pussy.
She was too dopey to protest, especially once he started feeding her bits of cheese, and she decided not to dwell on what he’d just told her, the French being as clear as English to anyone who had worked in a bakery on Valentine’s Day.
Chapter 21
Every show Candacehad ever done with Food2Love, she’d found a box of six condoms discreetly stored in the nightstand. She’d never used them, but Jannie had once indicated that whoever was doing the housekeeping would check the stock periodically, so no one had to worry about running out.
It wasn’t like there was a chance for anyone to restock today, though.
Laurin’s pocket condom was the last from his box. Candace couldn’t even remember using so many overnight, but everything blurred together, so she supposed the count was right. They only got halfway through lunch before a wide, lazy stretch from Candace got Laurin pouncing on her again, this time making it all the way to her bedroom to raid the second stash.
She wanted to talk with him, to temper things a bit and give the future some realistic expectations, but the combination of new partner and celebration was intoxicating enough that she couldn’t seem to resist any of his passes. One moment, she was thinking about how important it was that they use this time to talk about parting amicably in case he decided she shouldn’t stay the weekend at his place in Atlanta; the next, she was being held up against her closet door, her knees around Laurin’s waist, his lips lightly sweeping hers as he pumped enthusiastically. She draped herself over him and allowed herself to get lost in the motions, in the sensations.
In the fantasy.
He was slick with his words. That made Candace wary even as they ensnared her. He certainly liked his passionate declarations of forevers and bests and belonging, fitting together. She was his and he was hers and all of that. The sort of thing that anyone would want to hear in the heat of the moment. Candace didn’t say any of it back, because she wasn’t foolish enough to think he meant it, even though she wanted his words to be sincere.
Whether he was sincere or not, she had no intention of staying. She’d learned a long time ago that the more she loved someone, the more important it was to be the one to leave, and the more it would hurt if she waited. She had the easiest out this time, and she was thankful for it.
But she lied when Laurin asked, “What are you thinking about?”
They’d made it from the bedrooms to the sofa once the bags were packed, and there were only two condoms left — one of which was currently doing its job. The back cushions of the sofa had been thrown to the floor so Laurin could make room behind Candace without her falling to the ground. She had a feeling he was also enjoying curling his body around hers and keeping one hand on her chest to secure her while the fingers of the other hand fussed with her clit, making her come while he rocked gently into her.
The position had since been partially abandoned, though, and while her rear was still sandwiched to his pelvis, her leg still thrown back over his hip to make room for him to fill her, she’d been twisted so her shoulders were both on the sofa. Laurin had propped himself on his elbow to precariously hold his weight as he kissed her and held her thigh for balance. The moment wasso lush and heady that she got lost thinking about how much she would enjoy these memories after they never saw each other again.
And then she sighed heavily, and he asked that question.What are you thinking.
She couldn’t come up with a good lie, so she said, “I just didn’t think a guy your age could go through condoms that quickly.”
Laurin snorted. “Bonbon, how old do you think I am?”
She couldn’t hide her cringe, not when she was naked and flushed from exertion and raw from the emotions he drew from her with every wickedly divine touch. She didn’t know how old he was. Not much older than her, but guessing a number was never fun. “I don’t know, thirty-four?”
“Thirty-two,” he grunted as he peeled himself off her and laid her flat on the sofa cushions. No doubt needing to prove his prowess since she’d been right enough on his age, he hooked his shoulders up under her knees and leaned down as he tugged her down the sofa, folding her like a pretzel as he pounded into her until they were down to their last condom.
And then the last condom was also used, for good measure.
