Page 59 of Pack Me Up
I look up. “Is this okay?”
She nods, eyes shining.
I hook my fingers under the waistband, then tug, slowly. She lifts her hips, helping me, and I slide the leggings down, then off. She’s wearing nothing underneath.
She’s so fucking beautiful, I lose my train of thought.
I kneel between her legs, just looking at her, and she squirms, shy for the first time. She covers her face with her hands.
“Hey,” I say, reaching for her wrists. “You don’t have to hide. You’re perfect.”
She peeks at me between her fingers, then laughs. “No one’s ever… no one’s ever looked at me like that except this pack.”
I shake my head. “Their loss.”
She pulls me down, and we’re kissing again, bodies pressed together, skin on skin. My cock is hard, straining against my jeans, but I ignore it, focused on her.
I want this to last.
I kiss my way down her body, savoring every inch. When I reach her thighs, she spreads her legs for me, unabashed, and I go dizzy at the sight.
Her scent is everywhere. It’s sweet, sharp, and impossible to ignore. I bury my face in her, licking slow at first, then faster. She gasps, hips bucking, hands tangled in my hair.
“Fox,” she moans, and the sound is everything to me.
I keep going, tongue and fingers working together, mapping her reactions. She’s so sensitive, every touch a new discovery. I slip a finger inside her, and she arches, crying out.
I glance up, checking her face, but her eyes are shut, mouth open in a silent O. She’s so beautiful it hurts.
I keep going, adding another finger, curling them just right. She’s wet, so wet, and her slick coats my hand. I lap it up, greedy, and she whimpers.
I want to make her come. I want to make her feel everything.
I work her faster, tongue on her clit, fingers inside, until she shudders, the first orgasm ripping through her. She cries out, clutching at the blankets, and I slow down, letting her ride it out.
I crawl back up, kissing her everywhere, and she drags me in for a sloppy, desperate kiss.
“That was amazing,” she whispers, eyes wide.
“You’re amazing,” I say, and I mean it.
She grins, then runs her hand down my chest to the waistband of my jeans. She fumbles with the button, hands shaking, and I help, shoving them down and off.
My cock springs free, already leaking. She stares, a little awed, and then reaches for it, her hand small and warm.
She strokes me, slow, and I groan, barely holding on.
She tugs me closer, legs wrapping around my waist. “I want you,” she says, and the words nearly undo me.
“Are you sure?”
She nods, gaze steady. “I’ve never been more sure.”
I line myself up, the head of my cock slick against her, but I go slow, pushing in just an inch at first. She gasps, and I freeze, watching her face.
“Is it okay?”
She nods, breathless. “It’s okay. Keep going.”
