Chapter 23 #3
He grunts and groans as I rove my hips over his hand. Listening to him is so hot, I can hardly take it.
I run my mouth over his without kissing him. “I think I’d like to see that.”
He lifts his head and steals a kiss, curling his fingers inside my cunt as I ride him faster, sinking deeper, slamming against his palm much harder.
My orgasm burns at my toes, surging through my legs and spine, coming to rest like a heated weight between my legs. Right there—right there for the taking.
“I can’t wait to fuck you,” he admits. “I can’t wait to taste you and eat you and fuck you silly, baby.
It’s all I think about. When I train, when I cook, when I work.
You. Your body. This pussy,” he says, closing his eyes as I pick up the pace, riding his hand so hard and fast that the bed squeaks and groans as it nicks the wall over and over.
“I think about the same thing,” I admit, lowering my mouth to his chest to bite his nipple gently, loving how it makes him groan wildly aloud.
His groan sends me over, masculine and heady, making my pussy clench.
“Landry, you have me, I’m right there,” I promise, slowing my hips as my hands come to cup my breasts again.
He curses and groans, curling his fingers inside me as I unspool over him, my orgasm slamming into me hot and fast.
“Landry,” I breathe, “oh my god.” I don’t say the words. I don’t announce my orgasm. He feels me. Whether it’s been years or not, he knows a woman’s body, he feels me unraveling on his hand, on his fingers.
“There you go, honey. Come for your husband,” he offers, that title in his rough and tumble tone absolutely flooring me.
My body contracts, my walls tighten, sucking his fingers deep into my body as I come unraveled in wild, tantric waves. “Landry!” I slap his chest and belly, let my head tip back, and ride out every last second of enjoyment as I come hard on his hand.
When I’m still breathless but able to function, I open my eyes and find Landry’s jaw tight, teeth clenched, the hand not buried inside me gripping the pink head of his swollen, aching cock.
“I’m teetering on the edge here,” he admits, voice frayed from the strain of holding back.
I lift up and put him through another test as I take him by the wrist and bring his hand to my mouth. I lick myself from his fingers, and hold his eyes while I do.
“You’re somethin’ else,” he grounds out, adding, “so sexy.”
When I’m done with his fingers, I lower myself to his groin and collect his cock in my hand, finding him hot and thick.
He’s so big, the kind of cock that women fantasize about but realistically aren’t always prepared to take.
A cock like that takes work to accept into your body. Luckily, I’m a very hard worker.
Just not tonight.
I bring my lips to his tip and dust them over the arousal there, slick and salty. He groans, sifting thick, sticky fingers through my damp hair as he watches me.
“Let go for me,” I whisper, then I take his cockhead into my mouth, drawing my tongue in slow circles along the ribbed crown. “Come in my mouth, Landry.”
“Fuuuuuck,” is the last raspy, torn word he utters before I sink down on his head again, suckling and sucking, keeping his full, heavy balls in my other hand.
I tug his sack, smoothing my thumb over the heated, nubbed skin, and bob on his length, not able to fit more than a few inches, but sloppy and frenzied with the inches I do get.
Not more than a minute passes and his stomach clenches, and his thighs tighten beneath me.
The groan that tears from his chest and echoes around the room is the warning I need.
I seal my lips around his cock just as warm cum splashes against the back of my throat in urgent pulses.
He’s got so much to give, so much to unload, I can’t help but imagine all of that inside me, making a baby.
“Mmm,” I breathe through my nose, moaning as I swallow every drop of his orgasm. When I swallow, he’s panting, eyes hooded, nostrils flared.
“You look so fucking beautiful when you do that,” he says quietly, a private and raw admission.
I tug his bedsheets up around my breasts and flop down onto my back, right next to him. “You should see me doggy,” I tease, and that makes him groan, and then we laugh.
It’s easy with Landry. Natural, even. He rolls onto his side and untangles my hair with his fingers. “You can sleep with me tonight, since Sadie’s gone. You know, if you want to. If you like having your space, I get that, too. I just thought—”
I crush my mouth to his for a hot kiss before pulling back, finding myself suddenly giggling. “Of course I want to stay in here.” I swallow and search his eyes, my heart racing as I admit, “I’ve been dying to be in your bed.”
He tucks me into him, and we lie there talking about the exhibition ride coming up, about Daisy and how her colic is doing, about how Devin thought I’d tricked Landry into thinking I loved him just to get the scoop for the film.
He doesn’t like that Devin made that assumption about my character either, but assured me that it reflects more about him than me.
I ask him if he knows who Mabel’s lover was, and he just laughs.
He holds his hat over his groin while he sneaks down for two glasses of milk, and I know I’ll remember the sight of his untanned cowboy ass sneaking around in the dark.
I’ll remember everything about Landry Vaughn once I go.
But tonight, I don’t have to remember. I nuzzle into his arms, and the both of us drift off, deep and quick. As if we’re meant to find sleep together.