Chapter 12 #4
“It’s never enough time.” His words are soft, gentle puffs of air against my hot skin, and I feel every sensation as it washes through my body and settles right between my legs. “It will never be enough when it comes to you.”
“We’ll make it be enough,” I tell him. “We’ll take full advantage of every second we have together, and soon we won’t have to hide. If we want to spend all weekend in bed, we will, and no one will be able to say a damn thing about it.”
He lifts his head to meet my eyes. “All weekend?” Before I can answer, he lifts my shirt and eyes the breasts that he doesn’t seem even remotely disappointed about. “More like all week, Sitka, maybe all month.”
“I’m looking forward to that,” I tell him, and then gasp when he leans down and pulls my bra down, wrapping his mouth around my left breast and sucking hard.
I moan his name and rock harder, trying like hell to grind against him.
He sinks his weight onto me, giving me the friction I need while he tongues my nipple and brings me closer to the edge.
“I’m looking forward to a lot of things.” He grabs onto my hip, holding me in place so he can take control. “But right now I want to hear those pretty little moans you give when you come.”
Without warning, he latches back onto my tit and lifts his hips so he can press the heel of his palm right between my legs.
He gives me the friction I need, moving his hand so he’s grinding into me and making me squirm beneath him.
Digging my foot into his back, I use him for leverage, lifting my hips and rocking into him, desperate for the orgasm that’s right out of reach.
I slide my hand under his shirt, dragging my nails along his back as he works me harder. I’m so close, but the barrier between us is annoying me, and when I let out a frustrated breath, he lets me drop from his mouth as he brings his face to mine.
“Tell me what you need.” He rocks his hand, sending a rush of pleasure through me, but it’s not enough, and when I fist his hair and whimper, he nips at my bottom lip and starts to undo my jeans. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I moan. “I want to feel you against me.”
His fingers drag along my skin, pulling my pants and underwear down just enough for him to be able to cup my pussy with his bare hand and nothing between us.
My lips brush along his with a sharp inhale as he presses harder, giving me the friction I need while he slowly grinds the heel of his palm against my clit.
“Better?”
The word is murmured against my mouth, and my whimper of a response is as close to a yes as I can manage.
I feel his grin before he says, “Good. Let go, Sitka. Give me what I want.” His fingers lightly graze my mound while his heel rocks against me.
When I rock my hips, he groans and slides lower.
I let out a moan of protest at the loss of contact, but it quickly turns to pleasure when I feel the brush of one finger along my slit.
“So fucking wet, besyonok.”
He keeps his mouth barely touching mine as he slowly nudges one thick finger into me.
When my body clenches around him, he groans and closes his eyes.
I cup his face, feeling the tension in his jaw as he very slowly fingers me.
His thumb finds my clit, rubbing more of my arousal over the sensitive bundle of nerves while I rock my hips and tighten my grip on him.
My breathing turns erratic, my body refusing to stay still as I grind into him, wanting more and knowing I’m so close to getting it.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb over my clit in small circles that have my thighs shaking and my pussy clenching around the finger that’s still slowly sliding in and out of me.
“Such a good fucking girl.” He drags his lips along mine, and the sensual touch mixed with his praise has me moaning his name as the dam breaks and pleasure swallows me whole.
He groans my name and kisses me hard, stifling the sounds he’s pulling from my body as he keeps working my pussy like he owns it.
Instead of adding another finger and slamming into me, he keeps it slow and gentle while his thumb abuses my clit in the best way possible, forcing the orgasm to last longer than I thought possible before softening his touch.
Aftershocks run through me with each brush of his thumb, and when he breaks our kiss, he slides down my body and buries his face between my legs.
He licks around the finger that’s still firmly inside me.
Deep groans of appreciation are all I hear as I let my arms fall to the side, every part of me feeling like it’s made of liquid heat, too heavy to lift and not wanting to even if I could.
He slides his finger out, slowly sucking it clean before giving my slit another long lick. His breathing is ragged, and I expect him to take his pants off so I can return the favor, but he just rests his head against my thigh and gives me a kiss while his hand lays splayed out on my lower stomach.
Reaching for him, I run my fingers along his. “I want to do something for you,” I tell him.
“You just did,” he says and then turns his head so he can kiss my thigh again.