Page 8 of Made for You
He dropped onto his stomach between my legs, his big, rough hands nudging my thighs wider before the flat of his tonguepressed against me. He licked me slowly, then fast, and then slowly again. He was teasing me, yes, but it also felt like he wastrainingme. Rewiring every nerve ending I had so that my body was calibrated only to him and the pleasure he could give me.
His tongue flicked my clit with devilish precision, circled it, then sucked. Sparks shot down my spine. I fisted the covers and cried out again.
Gageateme like a man starved—not just for sex, but forme. He was devouring me like I was his personal sacrament, and this was his form of worship.
“I could stay down here all night,” he said, lapping at me.
“I … please … yes …” I stammered, my hips lifting to grind against his mouth as my fingers tangled in his hair.
A thick finger slid into me, curling against that perfect spot. He added another one, fucking me on his hand and tongue, until I detonated for the second time. He licked me softly through the aftershocks until I was boneless and utterly wrecked.
When he finally crawled back up my body, I blinked up at him in a daze, my skin flushed, my limbs heavy with pleasure.
“Still with me?” he asked, brushing my hair off my cheek.
“Yeah,” I breathed. “But I want you inside me.”
His lips kicked up in triumph, his grin cocky as he reached for the condom he’d tossed aside, ripped it open with his teeth, and slowly rolled it down over his thick length, never taking his eyes off me.
“You want to be my good girl tonight, don’t you, Siena?” he rasped, dragging his hand up to cup me roughly between my legs where I was wet and swollen and oh-so sensitive.
I whimpered, nodding as my hips lifted toward his touch, desperate for more.
He pulled his hand back and landed a sharp smack over my swollen pussy.
I cried out, the sting lighting me up in the best kind of way. My thighs jerked as heat bloomed under my skin.
He pressed the heel of his palm against my clit and ground it down hard.
“Oh fuck!” I gasped, my back arching off the mattress, the pressure just on the edge of overwhelming.
Gage let out a low, pleased sound, his fingers dragging through my slick folds before thrusting three of them deep inside me, pumping hard. “You like it when I get rough with you, sweetheart?”
I nodded again, panting as my hips jerked helplessly, my body chasing another orgasm. “I didn’t know,” I gasped, clinging to his shoulders. “I didn’t know I could feel like this.”
“That’s all right,” he murmured, his breath hot against my neck. “I’ll teach you. I’ll show you all the things your pretty little pussy likes.”
“Yes,” I moaned, not just letting him take control, but willingly handing it over.
Cravingit.
He shifted slightly, grinding the heel of his palm against my clit while he kept working me open with his fingers. The pressure built so fast it stole my breath, my body tensing.
“That’s it,” he coaxed. “Don’t hold back.”
“I … Gage … ah!” My voice broke as my release slammed into me, sharp and staggering and so intense I couldn’t think, could barely even breathe.
And then it happened. A rush—no, aflood. My eyes flew open in horror. “Oh my God,” I choked out, trying to slam my legs shut.
“Nuh-uh,” Gage admonished with a dark and filthy smile, his free hand gripping my thigh to hold me open as he watched me drench the bed, his forearm flexing as his fingers pulled every last ripple of pleasure out of me.
“That’s my good girl,” he praised as I felt the last of the moisture leak out of me. “So fucking pretty when you come like this.”
I was still shaking, my breath coming in shallow bursts as I tried to process what had just happened. My thighs were wet, the sheets soaked beneath me, and my heart was hammering like I’d just run a marathon.
Gage hovered between my legs, his gaze locked on my pussy, his chest rising and falling like he’d just run one, too.
“Oh my god,” I whimpered again, tossing my arm over my face.
