Page 37 of The Love You Fight For
She starts to flutter around my fingers at the same time her panting breaths become more ragged.
“Are you going to give me another orgasm, baby?”
“Yes. Yes.”
Fuck yes, she is. I curve my fingers inside her and suck her clit at the same time. I stroke her inner walls as I thrust into her, and when she starts to chantoh god, oh god, I flick my tongue over her clit as fast as I can.
“I’m coming. I’m coming,” she says, voice strangled as her body bows and her thighs clamp around my shoulders. “Oh, myfuck.”
The moment her orgasm breaks free, I feel her arousal on my hand, pooling in my palm and dripping down my wrist. I don’t stop stroking and thrusting, don’t stop tonguing her clit until her body starts to jerk, and she pushes on my head, too sensitive for more.
I sit back on my heels and grin at her gasping, spent form.
“I didn’t know you were a squirter, princess.”
She shoots up on her elbows, and the look of horror on her face is enough to make me bark out a laugh.
“I did not! I do not!” she protests, sitting straight up and staring at my couch cushion, which is now dark and damp with bourbon and her.
I didn’t realize until now that I never actually took her pajama top off, so it’s just drenched in bourbon and sweat, hanging open and loose around her body.
“I am not asquirter,” she hisses. “Porn stars are squirters.”
I smirk.
“I mean, I’ve got a camera if you want to make that dream a reality. Because, baby, you’redefinitelya squirter, and it’s fucking sexy.”
Her lips twitch and her nose scrunches up as she fights her smile. I can tell she’s embarrassed, but she’s trying hard not to show it. Embarrassment is weak, and Samantha Harper would never show weakness.
She steels her spine and gets control of her expression, and it’s like a curtain dropping. Her eyes turn seductive, her smile more predatory as she leans forward and slips her delicate fingers into the band of my joggers. My cock is so hard that it hurts, and it’s pressing as far out as the fabric of my pants will allow.
“Well,” Sam says, tugging me closer until I’m directly in front of her. She presses a kiss to my abdomen. “I think it’s my turn, don’t you?”
I breathe slowly through my nose and work to keep my excitement off my face. I run my knuckles over her cheek, then thread my fingers through her hair, gripping it at the back of her skull.
“If that’s what the princess wants,” I say smoothly, giving her hair a little tug.
She keeps her face tilted up and her eyes on me as she drags myjoggers down my thighs until they pool at my feet. She licks her lips and smiles softly, then lowers her gaze to my exposed erection.
And then she freezes.
I laugh loudly, and she whips her eyes back up to mine, face full of shock. She giggles once, then again before she punches my thigh.
“You have your fuckingdickpierced?”
ELEVEN
“It’s called a frenum,”Chris says pointedly, and I blink up at him a few more times before bringing my attention back to his cock piercing.
Excuse me. Hisfrenum.
I tilt my head to the side as I survey it from every angle.
“Why?” I ask finally, and his dick bobs as he shrugs.
“I played poker with a bunch of on-leave Marines and lost.”
I chuckle. Makes sense. Sounds like something that buddies of Macon would do.
