Page 90 of Wildflower
He grips my hip hard and pushes my front down with a firm hand on the top of my back. I follow his lead, leaning forward onto the door frame, and shift my legs for him. Then I feel the tip of that massive cock as he lines it up with my opening. Seeing his face in the mirror is such a turn-on. He’s hyper-focused on me.
He inches inside, grips both my hips, and buries himself deep with a deliciously animal-like groan. I meet his eyes in the reflection and keep looking at him as he thrusts into me with raw need. My tits are jiggling with our motion, and it’s the first time I feel sexy while so exposed.
His expression is everything I need.
Watching him watching us in the mirror and then looking down at where he’s entering me, burying himself to the hilt with low, sexy groans, it’s the most satisfying sight.
He bends and massages a breast, still holding me tight with the other hand. Then he moves his hand down and starts circling my clit. My mind is swimming. I’ve never felt this much before. He’s filling me to the brim, his hands are in the right places, and his warm skin against my back.
I can feel his cock swelling inside me, stretching me even more than before. He’s everywhere, inside and on me, in my head and body—it’s so intense. The sounds of him slapping against me and growling my name. Every thrust takes me closer, and closer.
“Hold me, I’m coming,” I whimper, and he grips my hips hard, thrusting deeper, rougher, filling the room with the sounds of my wetness and his body slamming into mine. As I hear and feel him unravelling, losing control of his movements, the pleasure crescendos with an intensity beyond belief, and I cry out. I’m shaking and tingling, and the warmth explodes through my bloodstream, like every nerve ending has been lit up. My legs have stopped working, and I know it’s only because he’s holding me tightly that I’m not falling over.
But fuck it if I’m not falling in every other way.
CHAPTER THIRTY
light sleeper
MARK
It feels like I’ve just woken up. Like I’ve only now truly started living. I’ve had sex countless times. I’ve seen enough women unravel in my arms, smiling at me. But it’s never made me feel like this. My heart is too big for my chest, and I’m sure Rey can feel it beating against her side as I lie here, close to her. As close as I can get.
It’s late, and I know I need to leave—to get home, so I can wake up in the morning (in six hours to be exact) and do my regular routine before I start another day. I’ve never taken a sick day in my life. But I’m contemplating it. What would happen if I simply didn’t show up at work tomorrow? If I disregarded everything and just sunk my face in between those soft thighs again and stayed there.
“You look thinky,” she says, brushing a thumb over my brow. There’s a hint of worry in her voice, and I know she has a lot of questions. Questions I have too. That I can’t answer yet.
What are we? How does this work?
“I’m thinking about how I can see you. I want to get to know you even better. I want to know everything about you.”
“Everything?” She grins.
“Yes.” I roll onto my side and prop my head up to see her better.
“Like what?”
“Hmm, where to start?” I ask, dipping down and brushing my nose against her temple and down the side of her face. “What do you eat for breakfast?”
She laughs, and it’s a glorious sound.
“I rarely have breakfast because I sleep in and need to rush to work. But if I have time, I have butter with toast.”
“What? You mean toast with butter?”
I brush a lock of hair off her forehead, and she follows my arm with her eyes.
“Yes, but with a lot of butter.”
“That’s it?”
“Don’t underestimate buttered toast.”
“Okay,” I say, but can’t help grinning at her. Why do I find everything she says so adorable? She’s just talking about toast.
“What about you?”
“It depends, but my favourite is a decent shakshuka.”
