Page 77 of One Pucking Surprise
I lift her easily, laying her down, careful to keep my weight off her. She looks up at me, her lips slightly parted, her breathing shallow. My hands slide over her sides, up under her shirt, brushing against bare skin. She shivers at my touch, her back arching slightly as I palm her breasts over her bra. Her hands slide over my arms, gripping me tightly as I kiss down her neck, my lips grazing her collarbone.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I murmur against her skin.
“I don’t want you to stop,” she whispers, her voice breathless.
That’s all the encouragement I need. I tug her shirt over her head, then unhook her bra, revealing her bare skin. She gasps when I take one of her nipples into my mouth, my tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. My hand slides down, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them down along with her thong. She helps, lifting her hips, her body eager for my touch.
I spread her legs, running my fingers along her inner thigh before pressing against her. She’s wet and warm, and I groan as I slip two fingers inside her. Her head tilts back, a soft moan escaping her lips as I move, my thumb circling her clit in a rhythm that makes her body tremble.
“You like that?” I ask, my voice low as I watch her.
“Yes,” she breathes, her hands gripping the sheets.
Her hips start moving in time with my fingers, her moans growing louder. I lean down, kissing her softly, murmuring against her lips, “Shh, baby. You’ve gotta keep quiet.”
She bites her lip, stifling a moan, and I speed up, curling my fingers inside her. She gasps,her back arching as I kiss her neck, my tongue trailing along her skin.
“Come for me, Lainey,” I murmur. “I want to feel you.”
“I’m close,” she whispers, her voice breaking.
“Good. Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”
Her body tightens, and a soft cry escapes her lips as she falls apart beneath me. I slow my movements, drawing out her pleasure as she shudders, her hands gripping my arms like she never wants to let go.
When her breathing steadies, she looks up at me, her cheeks flushed. Before I can say a word, she reaches for me, her fingers sliding under the waistband of my jeans. She pulls me free, wrapping her hand around me. A groan escapes me as she strokes me slowly, her touch both gentle and deliberate.
“Fuck, baby,” I rasp, my hips moving slightly into her hand. “That feels so good.”
She smirks, her confidence growing as she watches me. “You like that?” she asks, echoing my earlier words.
“More than you know,” I manage, my voice strained. She strokes me faster, and my control slips further with every movement of her hand. My fingers find her again, slipping between herthighs as I circle her clit. Her breath catches, and her free hand grips my shoulder.
The rhythm builds between us, our bodies moving together as moans fill the room. My lips find hers again, the kiss desperate and messy as we push each other closer to the edge.
“Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m going to come,” I warn, my voice ragged.
“Come for me, Zach,” she whispers, her hand tightening around me. “I want to feel it.”
Her words undo me. I groan her name as I come, her hand still stroking me as my release spills onto her stomach. At the same time, her body trembles, and I feel her pulse around my fingers, her release drawing another moan from her lips.
We lay there, our breathing heavy, our bodies tangled together. I pull my fingers from her and bring them to my lips, tasting her. “You taste so good,” I murmur, my voice rough with satisfaction.
Lainey, still flushed and breathless, watches me before bringing her fingers to her lips, tasting me in return. “You taste good too, Zach,” she says softly, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
The sight of her, completely undone, makes my chest tighten. I lean down, brushing asoft kiss against her lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby.”
She smiles shyly, and as I watch her, one thought echoes in my mind, louder than all the others.
I’m in love with her. I’m so fucking screwed.
Chapter 29
Lainey
“Aweek?”Irepeat,my voice climbing to a near shriek.
I stare at the ceiling, hands on my hips, willing it to stop. The slow, taunting rhythm of water falling into the bucket below has been the soundtrack of my life since last night, and I’m officially at my wit’s end.
