Page 122 of When Love Found Us
The air is cool against my bare skin, but it’s nothing compared to the fire where I need him most. He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t hold back. He leans in and licks into me, tongue firm, unrelenting, sending a shock of pleasure racing through me so fast my legs go weak.
I grip his shoulders, my fingers digging into him, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let me escape the pleasure, doesn’t let me shy away from the way I unravel beneath him. His mouth works me over, slow and knowing, dragging me closer to the edge, pushing me right to the brink.
I moan his name, barely a sound, but he hears it.
He groans against me, pulling back just enough to look up at me, his mouth glistening with my arousal, his eyes dark with need.
He moves back, lowering onto the lounge chair we have in the nursery, and my breath stumbles when I see him. “Come here,” he orders, his voice rough.
He leans back, undoing his belt with one hand, shoving his pants down just enough to free himself, and my breath catches at the sight of him. His cock is thick, long, flushed dark with need, already dripping at the tip. It juts up, hard and perfect, the veins lining the shaft pulsing with each slow stroke of his hand. Lust claws at me, raw and insatiable.
I want him.
I want to sink onto him, take every inch of him, feel the stretch, the pressure, the impossible fullness only he gives me.
“Sit,” he commands.
I straddle him, my knees pressing into the cushion as I hover over him, the broad head of his thick, veiny cock brushing against my entrance, teasing us both.
“Take off your shirt.”
I do, tossing it aside, my pulse hammering when his hands go straight to my covered breasts, cupping them, thumbing my sensitive nipples, making me gasp.
“Now, your bra.”
I unclasp it, letting it slide down my arms, and the second I’m bare, his mouth is on me.
His lips close over my nipple, tongue rolling over the tight bud before he sucks, making my core clench with need. I moan, grinding against him, slicking his cock with my arousal, needing more, needing all of him.
“Now take me,” he murmurs against my skin. “Sink and take all of me.”
I grip his shoulders, positioning him at my entrance, teasing us both with the way I slide against him, slicking his length with my arousal. His fingers dig into my hips, his restraint hanging by a thread, but he lets me control the pace.
I sink down slowly, inch by inch, feeling every thick, pulsing stretch of him as he fills me completely. My mouth parts on a gasp, my body molding around him, gripping him so tight he groans, his head tipping back against the chair.
“Fuck, baby.” His fingers flex on my hips, a shudder rolling through him. “You feel that? You feel how perfect you are for me?”
I nod, but it’s more than that. It’s more than just this moment, more than the way he fits inside me, the way we move together like we were made for this. It’s love. It’s trust. It’s everything I never thought I’d have.
I move.
I roll my hips, grinding against him, taking him deeper, and he curses under his breath, his control slipping. His hands guide me, setting the rhythm, making me take him the way he wants.
He thrusts up into me, deeper, harder, his breath ragged, his lips dragging over my throat, my collarbone. His mouth closes over my nipple, sucking, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, making me moan as pleasure crashes through me, tightening, building, pushing me closer to the edge.
He thrusts up into me, harder, deeper, dragging a cry from my throat. His tongue flicking over my nipple before his teeth sink in, just enough to make my stomach clench, my body pulse around him.
“I fucking love you so much, Blythe,” he says with a desperation that almost makes me come. “Say it,” he murmurs against my skin. “Say you love me.”
“I love you,” I whisper, and the words break something open inside him.
His movements turn desperate, his grip tight, his thrusts rougher, deeper, as if he’s trying to bury himself so deep inside me, that I’ll never be able to leave.
Pleasure coils low, tighter, hotter, until I shatter around him, my release slamming into me so hard I tremble, gasping his name, my nails digging into his skin. And then he’s right there with me, groaning low in his throat, his body tensing beneath me.
I feel it.
I feel the thick, hot rush of his release spilling inside me, coating my walls, filling me completely, making me moan at the deep, raw pleasure of it. His arms wrap around me, his forehead pressing against my shoulder as he lets go, as he gives me everything, his body shuddering beneath mine.
