Chapter Fifteen #5
He frees his already hard cock and steps back between my legs. One hand grips my hip, holding me exactly where he wants me as he lines himself up.
“Revel.” His name comes out needier than I intend.
“What do you need, Mama?”
“You.” I push back toward him impatiently. “I fucking need you.”
A rough groan tears out of him.
“Fuck, Cece.”
Then he slides into me.
Slowly.
My fingers twist into the sheets as he works himself deeper, stretching me around him until the pressure steals whatever smart-ass comment I had left.
“Fuck!” I cry out when his hips finally press flush against mine.
“Yeah,” he grunts behind me. “That’s what I fucking thought.”
Before I can catch my breath, he spits onto my ass. His thumb follows, circling slowly while his other hand stays locked around my hip.
“Fuck, Revel.”
A low groan rumbles out of him, his grip tightening as my body shudders beneath his touch.
His hand leaves my hip and comes around my throat, firm enough to pull me upright against him. My head tips back toward his shoulder, and when my eyes start to close, his grip tightens just enough to get my attention.
“Look at me, Mama.”
I force them open and look back at him.
Fuck.
The Revel staring at me barely resembles the cocky asshole who was joking about imaginary daughters outside the club. His jaw is tight, breathing rough, eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that makes the whole stupid fantasy suddenly feel a lot less like a joke.
“There you go.” His voice drops. “Don’t look away.”
His mouth finds the side of my neck, teeth catching hard enough to pull a broken sound from me. My hand reaches back blindly, fingers tangling in his hair as he leaves another mark against my skin.
“Revel…”
“Tell me.” His mouth brushes my ear. “Tell me you want it.”
Any smart-ass answer I could give him is long fucking gone.
“I want it.”
His breathing catches.
“Want what, Mama?”
“You know what.”
“I wanna hear you fucking say it.”
“Fuck.” My fingers tighten in his hair. “I want you to feel you come inside me. I want all of you.”
The sound that tears out of him is somewhere between a grunt and a groan.
“Fuck, Cece.”
Then suddenly he pulls away.
He hauls me up, guiding me to sit on top of him. I slide down his length slowly, my pussy gripping him tight, the sensation of him filling me again making my toes curl.
“Fuck, Mama.” His hands lock around my waist, holding me there for a second like he needs to get himself under control. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”
“Pretty sure you started this.”
“Yeah.” His eyes drag over me. “Best bad decision I’ve ever made.”
I start moving, and his grip immediately tightens, helping guide me as the rhythm builds between us.
I’m desperate now, grinding my clit against his pubic bone, my internal muscles milking him with every frantic downward plunge.
Revel’s hands move up my body instead, catching the edge of my bralette and tugging it down. My breasts spill free, and his attention drops immediately.
“Fuck, so goddamn pretty.”
He cups them in both hands, squeezing as he pulls me closer. His mouth closes around one nipple, sucking hard enough to pull a gasp from me before his teeth catch it, giving it a sharp little tug.
My fingers bury themselves in his hair.
He groans against my skin, switching to the other breast and giving it the same attention, hands kneading and holding me while I move above him.
“That's it, Mama. Fucking take what you need.”
His grip tightens, and the filthy praise goes straight through me.
“Mine,” he breathes against my skin. “All fucking mine.”
There’s something about the way he says it that fucks with me more than it should. The roughness is still there, but underneath it is something almost reverent.
His eyes lift to mine.
“I’m gonna fill you up, Mama.” His voice is wrecked. “Want you walking around with me still inside you. Want you feeling exactly what I left behind every fucking step you take.”
Fuck.
My entire body reacts to the words, the pressure building until there’s no room in my head for anything else.
“Revel—”
“Come for me, Cece.”
That’s all it takes.
The orgasm tears through me hard enough that I collapse against him, crying his name into his neck while my whole body shakes.
His arms lock around me.
“Fuck, yeah. That’s it, Mama.”
A rough, guttural groan tears out of him as his control finally snaps, his arms locking around me as he comes deep inside me.
Neither of us moves afterward.
Eventually, his breathing begins to slow beneath me, one hand dragging lazily over my back before settling across my stomach again, and somehow, that touch feels more intimate than everything that came before it.
We stay like that for a long time, tangled together, the only sound the ragged synchronization of our breathing.
“Ay, cállate,” I mutter, hiding my face in his neck.
He laughs quietly and pulls me back down against his chest. But his hand stays on my stomach. No joke this time.
No teasing. Just his palm resting there while our breathing slowly settles.
And somewhere between the dirty talk and the fantasy we were supposedly only playing with, Revel stopped sounding like he was pretending.