“You,” I whine, rolling my hips into his face. Damn him for making me this needy, for doing this to me and then pulling away.
“Not good enough,” he snickers, nipping at the soft skin of my inner thigh. “Tell me exactly what you want and you’ll get it, but I need to hear you say it.”
“David,” I beg. “Please. I want you. Can’t you tell?”
“So then tell me,” he taunts. “Just say the words, baby.”
Channeling every ounce of my desire into my words, I let them fall from my lips as if they’re the last ones I’ll ever say. “Make me come. Please. I want more of your mouth on me. Your fingers in me. My clit. God, please. I need to feel you, David.”
“Here.” He moves his tongue to my clit, circling it lazily.
“Yes, oh, God, yes.” Shamelessly, I grind my hips up into his face. “More please. I need you.”
As if he’s reached the last reserves of his control, he moves his tongue in a frenzy over my clit, stopping only to plunge it into my pussy. With insatiable hunger, he laps up my need, transforming it and morphing it with his own. With every drop of me he consumes, he only becomes hungrier, needing more and more.
My insides clench, needing something to clamp down on. “Your fingers. Oh, God, please. Use your fingers.” Our eyes meet over the writhing motion of my hips. Without blinking, he licks at my clit in a perfect rhythm of passion as he pushes his finger into me. “Ahh. Oh, God. Yes.” Adding another, he plunges into and pulls out of me, never moving his mouth.
Fire races across my skin. A kaleidoscope of bright colors flashes behind my tightly closed eyes. And then it all stops. “Eyes on me, baby. Watch me make you come. Watch me take you over the edge. Let me watch you fall.”
And then he pushes me to the brink again. His mouth, his fingers, his words, they’re all too much to hold in. Cresting, the wave of my orgasm crashes over me, pulling me into the deepest recesses of passion. His fingers curl inside me, drawing another surge of pleasure out of my body. Boneless and replete, I don’t even notice him moving to lie at my side. With his fingers lazily moving in me, he lets me come down from my high. Kissing my neck, and nuzzling against me, he whispers, “Beautiful. Everything about the way you come is beautiful and I can’t wait to do it again and again and again.”
Fumbling under the pillow, he pulls out the condom. We shift so that we’re both facing each other on our sides. “And now it’s time to take care of you,” I murmur, moving my lips against his chest.
He pushes into my hand, the drops of moisture making him glide effortlessly in my palm. Making a move to push him on his back, he stops me. “If you do any more than what you’re already doing, I’ll embarrass myself.” Ripping the condom open with his teeth, he pulls it from the wrapper. “Let me make love to you now so I don’t look like a fool, coming in your hand in a matter of seconds.”
Nodding at his request, I take the condom from him. Rolling it over his length, my need amplifies. Knowing that he’ll be inside me, pulling me into oblivion with him renders me speechless.
Looming over me, he kneels between my legs, his sheathed cock bobbing under its own weight. He lowers himself to his elbows, resting one on each side of my head. “I’ve lost myself to the fantasy of having you so many times, I started to believe it would never actually happen. And now that we’re here, with you beneath me, I feel like if I close my eyes, it’ll all vanish. Like this is some kind of dream and if I blink, it’ll all be over.”
“It’s not,” I promise, cradling his jaw in my hand. “I’m right here with you. Feel me. Take me. I’m yours.” Leaning forward, he pushes into me, filling me. “Oh, hell,” I cry out. “My God. David,” I cry his name.
Rocking back and forth, he works into me, inch by inch until he’s buried deep inside. With my legs wrapped around his waist, I’m shaking as my orgasm rushes into me. Clawing at his back, I thrust up onto him. “I’m gonna come again. My God. David, I’m coming.”
“Come on me, baby,” he coos into my ear. “Take what you need from me.” Lost to the rhythm of my hips, I come wildly, unable to control anything. The waves of pleasure never subside, as he continues to move through them. Plunging into me, he holds me in his arms. There’s no space between us, no room for anything but our desire.
Angling back slightly, he pulls my nipple into his mouth. Arching into his lips, he smiles around my skin. Moving a hand down my stomach and further still, he circles my clit with his fingers. “I can’t. Oh God, David, please. I can’t. It’s too much.”
Despite my begging, he doesn’t stop. And it is too much, but in the most perfect way. He pushes further and further into me, hitting that spot deep inside that makes me writhe under him. My nipple in his mouth. His fingers on my clit.
“Come again, baby. I need you to come one more time. Please,” he begs, letting my nipple fall from his mouth. And I fall beautifully, over the precipice into some deep abyss from which I never want to be rescued.
“Perfect, baby,” he groans, burying his face into my neck. “So goddamn perfect.”
His movements become more erratic, less fluid. He swells, pulsating against my still spasming core. “Grace.” He groans, rocking into me hard. “Oh, fuck, baby. I can’t . . .”
“Then don’t,” I murmur into his ear. “Fall with me.”
And he does, in a wildly passionate flash of need. On a final plunge, he calls out my name and falls on top of me, capturing me in his strong arms. Before I can even catch my breath, he’s rolling over, away from me. Barely able to open my eyes, I can only assume he’s taking care of the condom.
The bed shifts under his weight. His body curls around mine, covering me in his sweet warmth. Then there’s a blanket over us. I’m wrapped in his strong arms and the soft fabric of a quilt. “Sleep, baby.” He kisses my temple, trailing his fingers down my spine. Drifting off, all I remember are his softly whispered words dancing against my skin, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“You’re fidgeting. Nervous?” Grace threads her fingers through mine as we wait on the train platform.
Scanning the approaching track for the millionth time, I lie, “No. Not at all. What would make you think I’m nervous?”
“Mainly that if I let go of this hand,”—she holds up our joined hands, leveling me with a playfully hard stare—“you’d bite this nail until there was nothing left.” Keeping up her mock stern face, she quirks an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to say something.
Pulling us to the bench, we sit, our hands still laced together. “I’ve never done this before,” I admit, keeping my eyes focused on hers. Her face contorts in confusion and whether it’s because her coffee hasn’t kicked in yet, or it’s already closing in on ninety degrees at nine in the morning, she’s not picking up what I’m trying to say.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need more than that.” Patting the top of my hand, she laughs at me.
“This,” I huff. “Meeting the parents.”
Her laughter continues through my words. “Really? You already know them. Why would you be nervous?”
“The last time I saw them was eighteen years ago. And you weren’t my girlfriend and we weren’t sleeping together.” Abruptly, I stand from the bench as the train approaches the platform.
“Just don’t lead with ‘I screwed your daughter six ways to Sunday this past weekend and twice last night’ and you should make a fine impression.” Stretching up on her toes, she kisses my cheek as the train comes to a stop.