38. Libby #2
“You’re not the only one who gets to play,” he rasps as he lowers me onto the cushion.
With one knee planted beside me, he flips open one cuff with a single fluid flick, unlocking a new kink inside me.
Then, with a kiss to my pulse point, he locks it around my wrist. “Too tight?” He searches my face, a hint of concern creeping into the lustful look.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
Smirking, he lifts my arm and loops the handcuffs around the frame of the futon. He gently forces my other arm up, and with another click, I’m secured to the couch. “Now stay while I go back to work.”
Jaw dropping, I gasp. “Fisher Jones!”
He drops his head back and lets out a laugh.
“I’m just teasing, Princess. I would never get any work done with this perfect pussy, wet and ready for me, only a couple of feet away.
” He presses a kiss to my lips and slides down my body, pushing my thighs apart.
“Don’t be too loud, or I’ll have to stuff your panties into your mouth. ”
God, why is that hot? I squirm, bucking against him.
The warmth of his lips hits me as he chuckles against my sensitive flesh, then his tongue licks a trail from my entrance to my clit. “Fuck, you taste good,” he grumbles before diving in for more.
I’m thrashing against the futon, half desperate to touch him and half thrilled to be restrained like this.
My orgasm comes on so quickly I have to bite down on my cheek to keep from screaming in surprise. “Fisher, please,” I beg.
As if possessed, he tightens his hold on my thighs and pulls me even closer, lifting my ass off the futon as he sucks my orgasm from me.
“Fuck me, please.” I’m a panting mess by the time he finally lifts his head and licks his lips. “Please.”
“Your hands okay?” he asks, hovering over me to inspect them.
Impatient, I scowl. “Yes. Now fuck me, please .”
With one arm resting beside my head, he lines himself up and pushes inside me with a low groan.
The guttural sound has my toes curling. His heavy weight settles on both sides of me as he rolls his hips and sets a rhythm.
His lips meet mine, and we silence one another by kissing, devouring each other’s moans.
Like every time we’re like this, it’s the best I’ve ever had.
“I love you,” I say as emotion washes over me.
He pulls back, his eyes flashing. Then he’s scrambling for the key he dropped on the desk and unlocking the cuffs. He pulls me onto his lap and holds me close. “Needed to feel your hands on me.”
His admission tugs at my heartstrings. I run my fingers over his chest, back and forth, back and forth, keeping time with the roll of my hips. I’m so full of him. He’s everywhere. Inside me, holding me, kissing me.
“I love you, Libby. Love you so damn much,” he growls, every word sharper than the last, as if he’s moving dangerously close to the edge of reason.
He pistons his hips, fucking up into me, and the moment he falls, I wrap my arms around him, bringing my chest to his, reveling in the way our hearts beat in time. For each other.
His heavy breath is in my ear, his hot cum filling me when I join him in the abyss, my body going limp as our orgasms wane.
Fisher’s arms tighten around my waist and he squeezes me to his chest.
“I got the part,” I whisper.
He goes stiff beneath me.
I straighten so I can get a better read on him and poke him in the ribs.
“Jesus, Lib.” He flinches and bats my hand away. “Give me a minute to breathe. You just stole the life from me.”
I press a kiss to his jaw. “And I’m going back to LA.”
His hand tightens on my hip. “What?” His voice is rough, but not in a good way.
Realizing how easily my words have been misinterpreted, I shake my head and cup his cheeks. “Not for good, just for the awards show.”
“Jesus fuck. Seriously, you’ve just stopped and restarted my heart at least a couple of times. Like a damn defibrillator.” He blows out a breath and his face lights up. “First, congrats, baby. Of course you got the part. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
“Now talk to me about LA. When’s the event?” He looks around like he’s searching for his phone, probably to check his calendar.
“You don’t have to come.”
“If you think I’m letting you deal with Brad yourself?—”
I shake my head. This isn’t up for debate. “I don’t want the media to get wind of us. If they do, then they’ll know where I’ve been and they’ll never leave us alone.”
“Libby,” he says, his voice low and filled with frustration.
I roll my hips over him and press a light kiss to his lips. “Did you release Brad’s emails and texts?”
He nods, his expression solemn. “It was that or fly out there and kill him.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “He’s not worth it.”
With a hum, he runs his hand through my hair and settles it on my cheek. “I know that, but you are.”
My heart floats like one of those buoys offshore. “I’m happy right here, Hacker.”
“Obviously.” He smirks, already hardening inside me.
I roll my hips and shudder, my clit still sensitive from the first two orgasms he gave me.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
“Yes, Hacker. Fuck me like you love me.”
“I do, you know.” He cups my other cheek too. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too. Now less talking, more fucking.”
With a laugh, he bucks up into me. Who woulda thought that I’d be begging for this man of so few words to shut up?