41. Sully #3
Ellie’s lips curved, clearly delighted by that thought and by the power she had over me right now. Which I had no problem with whatsoever. She could walk me around on a leash for the rest of my life for all I fucking cared. I’d bark just for a taste of her.
She was giving me more than a taste, though.
She was making a goddamn mess of me, just like I’d asked for, rubbing that pretty pussy all over me as she took what she wanted, riding me with tight little movements.
Fuck, it was so hot seeing her like this.
Her body was flushed and warm and perfect.
A light coating of perspiration covered her skin and mine as we writhed together.
I could feel my insides coiling tighter, that tingle at the base of my cock, and Ellie was panting raggedly.
Her expression was desperate, like she was worried she wouldn’t be able to chase her high in time, and I wondered if she needed just a little bit more.
“Can I touch you?” I pleaded, and she licked her lips before drawing her bottom one into her mouth.
“Uh-huh.”
I smiled as I slid my hand from her hip to the apex of her thighs, dipping my thumb between her legs until I felt—
“Sawyer,” she gasped.
Ah, there it was. Her swollen, needy clit. My name from her lips.
“Yeah?”
“More,” she begged, and I was so ready to give it to her.
Flattening my palm over her abdomen, I braced my hand against her as I rubbed my thumb back and forth across her clit, using just enough pressure to have her eyes rolling back as she continued to rock against me, soaking my cock and groin.
“Yes.”
“That’s my girl,” I muttered. “Come for me, El.”
She was close; I could tell from her frantic, hurried movements. And I’d never needed anything more than to see her get there, to watch her body pulse and shudder as she finished.
“You, too,” she urged, but I shook my head, just not willing to risk it. This, right here, was about her anyway.
Ellie didn’t argue. I suspected she was past being able to argue. She’d grown quiet, her mouth opening but no sound coming out, and I could feel the muscles in her body tighten, pulling to a point that was about to shatter.
And then she did just that, unraveling and crying out from a climax that was so fucking beautiful, I immediately wanted to see her do it again.
She wasn’t going to give that to me, though. As soon as Ellie came down from her high, she moved her body down, sliding off my cock and fixing her attention on it, trailing a hand down my length in a way that made my hips jerk as I teetered on the edge of a cliff.
I stared, mesmerized as Ellie ripped the empty condom off. And then she took me in both hands, pumping once, twice before looking at me.
“Tell me again.”
“What?”
My brain struggled to comprehend words when her hands were wrapped around me like this.
“To spit on it.”
I groaned. My God. “Oh, baby. You’re such a filthy fucking girl, aren’t you?”
She gave a tiny shrug. Bit her lip. Drove me wild. “For you.”
“For me,” I echoed, my entire body pulling tight at the reminder. “Spit on it, Eleanor. Be my filthy girl and spit on my cock for me.”
Her seductive grin made my head spin, and then she spat on my erection, wetting it—repeatedly.
She was making my cock a sloppy, beautiful mess, and I was about to ask if she ever planned to stop fucking torturing me when she lowered her body to mine.
She braced her palms on either side of her tits, pressing them together so they hugged my cock. Holy fuck, was she—
“Will you come now?” she asked, looking up at me beneath her lashes as she used her saliva coating my length as lubricant, rubbing her tits up and down my erection, making sure they swallowed it whole.
And all I could do was stare. And moan. Because Jesus Christ—
Ellie followed my gaze, glancing down at herself. “I know they’re not very big, but hopefully, they still do the trick.”
“They’re perfect,” I choked and then canted my hips, thrusting my cock through her tits. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking perfect.”
She grinned, clearly happy with my response. And as amazing as every other part of this was, as good as she fucking felt all wrapped around me, that was what did it.
Just her fucking smile.
I came with a cry, coating her chin and her chest and her abdomen—because she dragged her body over me, like she wanted my cum covering her. And then she flopped back on my bed, and there I was, staring again.
At Eleanor Summers, sprawled in my bed, looking like a mess.
My fucking mess.
My fucking girl.
I trailed a finger through my cum, unable to help myself from spreading it across her chest, twirling it around one nipple and then the other.
Ellie shivered but remained silent, letting me play. Explore. Claim.
“Mine,” I breathed after, well, I wasn’t sure how long.
And all Ellie did was nod, agreeing.
“Yours, Sawyer.”
We stayed there for the rest of the evening, outside of a trip to the shower to rinse off.
And when we finally went to bed, exhausted and sated and alive, Ellie slept with her head on the right side of the mattress for the first time in over a month.