CHAPTER FORTY-TWO #3
Still, I nod, handing it to her while I quickly unclasp her bra, leaving her in only her red thong.
“There,” she says with a tone of completion, but I can hear the arousal coiled in her words, begging to be unwound.
I grip her hips, shifting my weight and flipping us with practiced ease so that she’s now beneath me. Her ragged pull of air slices the silence as her back hits the mattress.
“What’s your next move, pretty girl?” It’s a reiteration of how I only want this if she does, and while I think her sliding a condom over my cock makes it pretty fucking clear, I still want to see where her head’s at.
Her eyes flicker with amusement. She must be thinking the same thing as her eyes land on my dick. “Did the condom not make it obvious enough?”
My fingers thread through the roots of her hair, pulling it enough to tilt her head to the side. We’re both smiling.
“Fuck me,” she breathes, looking straight at me, so sure of herself.
She’s not a virgin, but it’s almost worse that she’s even the slightest bit experienced and still has no idea how good it could be.
Lina must see my hesitation, because the next thing she does is encase my jaw with both hands, kissing me as my hands trail down her stomach.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she warns when she pulls away.
“I’m just making sure you really want to do this.”
“I do.” She pauses for a second before adding, “Just let it be known that I’m not the most flexible person in the world, but as long as you don’t try to fold me in half like I’m some kind of trapeze artist, we should be good.”
My laughter spills out before I can stop it. “Noted.”
Then, with a little less hesitation this time, I guide her thighs apart and settle between them, bending to press a kiss just above her navel.
She arches slightly, her breath hitching as I trail my mouth lower, slow and deliberate. I want to memorize every inch of her, every sound she makes, and every flutter of her pulse beneath my tongue.
Without allowing myself to think too much about it, I slowly sink into her, watching her face to make sure there’s no pinch of pain in her eyes or flicker of doubt in her expression.
Lina keeps her eyes fixated on mine, almost like she’s challenging me to give her something more. As always, the change in pace riles me even more.
“Is this alright?” I ask as I lift one of her legs to rest over my shoulder. I don’t think the position is too jarring, but after her warning of how inflexible she is, I want to check.
Her mouth opens in an aroused O, and I know I’ve found a better angle before she even moans.
My pulse races in my chest when I begin pumping my hips to press further into her.
Her tiny gasps inflate my ego more than anything as I start to move. I’m dying to go slow, trying to make this last, but I can’t ignore the way Lina’s hips are continually tilting upward, searching for a faster pace.
“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” I mutter, completely infatuated by the sight of her underneath me in my bed.
For months she’s been sleeping beside me, but knowing she’s here in this position because she’s mine fills my chest with a sweet, aching kind of triumph.
“Grant,” she begs. “More. Please. ”
I press my forehead to hers, my breath shaky as I oblige, picking up the pace enough to have her nails biting into my shoulders.
Lina finds her rhythm quickly, drawing the most beautiful moans from her lips over and over again.
“That’s it,” I whisper, voice ragged. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”
Her lips brush mine, but it’s not a kiss—it’s a gasp that gets caught between us as I thrust again, deeper this time. I reach between us, and when I press my thumb against her clit, she practically melts .
“You,” she breathes, barely louder than the creak of the mattress. “I just need you.”
And fuck, if that doesn’t ruin me a little.
My hand cradles the back of her head, pulling her closer like I could somehow crawl inside her chest and live there. Our bodies move in sync, every roll of my hips coaxing another helpless sound from her throat, each one driving me closer to the edge.
“ Oh. ” She tightens around me, and I know she’s close. I can feel the tremble starting in her thighs, the stutter in her rhythm.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, burying my face in her neck. “Come for me, pretty girl.”
It takes a few more moments of me fighting off my own orgasm and her hips rising to meet my hurried thrusts before she’s pulsing around my cock.
The mind-blowing pleasure courses through both of us at the same time. I come so hard it feels like a detonation that leaves nothing behind but us.
And I know she feels it too because it takes us both a few moments to reorient ourselves. Once we’re aware of our surroundings, being here with each other, she lets out a short giggle while she pulls my body down so I’m lying on the bed next to her.
I let my weight settle against the mattress, and she rolls over to rest on top of me. We’re chest to chest, and I can feel her heart thudding above mine.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she whispers with a laugh.
“Me neither.” I hum, pressing a lazy kiss to her collarbone.
Her fingers comb through the hair at the nape of my neck, soft and slow, like she’s grounding herself, like she’s anchoring me too.
“You didn’t fold me like a trapeze artist,” she murmurs, teasing, but her voice is hazy and sated.
I smile against her skin. “Yet.”
She laughs again, quieter this time, and I swear I could live in the sound.