Chapter 8 #4
Her hands fly to my hair, fingers threading in tight. I hook one arm under her thigh and haul it over my shoulder, opening her wider, then seal my mouth around her clit. Gentle suction. A tease of my tongue. Her entire body shivers.
“That’s it,” I murmur against her. “Let me hear you. Give me those sounds.”
She moans. It’s soft at first, then turns into a desperate cry when I slide two fingers into her entrance and circle, just barely inside. Wet heat clenches around my fingertips like a promise. I push in slowly. Tight. Hot. Perfect. Her breath breaks.
“God, you take me so well,” I groan. “Greedy little pussy, huh?” I curl my fingers and stroke the spot I’ve been dreaming about finding. Her hips arch off the couch.
“Right there, oh god yes, please—don’t stop.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I lock my forearm around her thigh and devour her: steady strokes inside, tongue flicking her clit in a rhythm that matches the frantic flutter of her breath.
I talk her through it because I need her to hear what I see.
“You should see yourself. Slick and pretty, making a mess on my fingers.” I suck lightly, and her legs shake.
“That sound you make right before you come? I want it. Give it to me.”
She’s panting now, fingers fisting my hair, hips chasing my mouth. I angle my wrist, curl deeper, and hold her there, my movements relentless. The room narrows to her heartbeat against my lips, the taste of her, the way she rides my tongue like it’s the only thing keeping her sane.
“I can feel you starting to clamp down,” I rasp, lips brushing her clit between strokes. “Yeah, there it is. Let go for me, Adrienne. Come on my tongue. Make a mess.”
Her cry cracks. The muscles in her thighs go tight as wire. I bury my mouth against her and don’t let up. I press, flick, suck until the tremor turns into an earthquake. She shatters with a broken, gorgeous sound, hips bucking, nails biting my scalp, grinding onto my face like she can’t get enough.
“That’s my girl,” I groan into her, working her through it, slow only when she’s too sensitive to take more. “Ride it. Breathe. I’ve got you.”
She pulses around my fingers, clenches, releases, and I feel every aftershock against my tongue. I lick her softly, lazy little kisses that make her whimper and twitch, then slip my fingers free and kiss the inside of her thigh, tasting sweat and victory.
“Fuck,” I whisper up at her, her release on my chin. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”
I’ve still got her taste on my mouth when I climb back up her body. I brace a hand by her head and take a second. Just to breathe her in. Just to be sure I deserve this.
“You good?” My voice comes out low, rough. “Tell me.”
She nods, then adds a breathy, “Yes,” because she knows I need the word.
“Atta girl.”
I kiss her slowly, letting her catch the rhythm of my breathing until I feel her settle, until the tremble in her thighs turns into something eager again. When I pull back, she chases me for a second, like she can’t stand one inch of distance. I get it. I feel the same.
“Hands,” I murmur.
She gives them to me without arguing. I catch both wrists and pin them above her head against the cushion, my fingers spanning her delicate bones. Her breath hitches. Mine does too. The trust in that simple movement nearly undoes me.
“Remember what you asked for,” I tell her quietly, eyes on hers. “Remember how hard you worked to make me snap.”
Her smile tilts, half-wild. “I do.”
“Good.” I hold her there one beat longer so she feels it, my weight, my intent, then I let go to stand and strip off my shirt.
She watches me. I don’t tease about it. I don’t hide the way my hands shake a little with the need that’s been chewing on me for years.
Boots first, thudding to the rug. Belt next, the clink echoing in the sudden quiet.
My jeans follow, and her breath turns ragged in a way that detonates every last shred of my patience.
Her eyes go wide when I shove my briefs down and free myself. She makes a sound, a shocked gasp, and then looks at me with actual fear in her eyes.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice tight. “I’ve got a big cock and you’re gonna have to take it.”
“I—you’re huge.” She burst into nervous laughter, clamping her hand over her mouth.
“You knew what you were doing all this time.” I wrap a hand around myself and stroke once, slow, because I need to slow down or I’m going to lose my mind.
“This huge cock is what you were playing with. You wanted me to break and give you all of it, remember? You wanted to find out what happens when I stop being polite.”
Her knees fall open a little more. She’s not subtle. She never has been. “I can take it,” she whispers. “I enjoy a challenge.”
I drag my gaze over her, her hair a mess from my hands, her lips bruised, and I swear under my breath. I palm myself again, slower this time, and watch her throat work around a swallow.
“It’s going to hurt,” I say, forcing myself to put the warning in the air because I know it will, not out of arrogance. “I’ll go slow. You tell me if anything’s wrong, and I stop. No questions. Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
I climb back over her, one knee sinking into the cushion, both hands bracketing her head again like I can cage us in this moment and keep it.
She reaches for me, but I catch her wrists and pin them above her head again, lacing our fingers.
The power of that simple hold hammers through me—control, yes, but only because she gives it. The only way I ever want it.
“You taste like you were made for me,” I murmur, as I trail my mouth along her jaw. “Sweet. Delicious. Better than anything I’ve ever had.” I kiss the corner of her mouth, then deeper, stealing her breath. “I’ve wanted this so damn long, Adrienne. Longer than I should’ve.”
Her body arches, seeking me. “Then take it,” she whispers against my lips. “Take me.”
I groan because there’s only so much a man can take.
My palm slides down the length of her, over the warm curve of her waist, the flutter of her ribs, the soft skin above the edge of her dress.
I push the hem higher and higher, and she lifts her hips to help me, a silent yes that lights me up from the inside.
I strip the dress the rest of the way, tossing it aside, and for a second, I just stare.
I’ve seen her a thousand different ways over a thousand different days, but I’ve never seen her exposed.
Not like this. All of her. Mine tonight.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Adrienne.” It comes out almost like a plea. She’s always been miles out of my league, but this just confirms it. “God damn,” I run both my hands over her ups to her waist, continuing to cup her full tits. “You’re literally a fucking fantasy.”
She blinks like she’s surprised, but a second later, she smiles, her gaze softening again. “Say it again.”
“You’re beautiful,” I repeat, dragging my lips over hers. “And tonight, you’re mine.”
Her breath stutters. I kiss her again, softer than I need, and shift my hips, fitting my body to hers. The first brush of heat against heat makes both of us gasp.
I line myself up to her opening, sliding the tip of my cock up and down, coating it with her wetness, then pause to look at her. “Eyes on me.”
They find me immediately.
“That’s it.” My mouth skims her cheek. “I’m right here. Breathe.”
I press forward slowly.
Go slow. Don’t lose control.
It’s a practice in the kind of patience a man learns when he’s wanted something for years and would rather die than mess it up now.
She tightens, a surprised sound breaking loose, and I still, kissing her, murmuring into her mouth, letting her get used to me.
Her fingers squeeze mine where I’m pinning her wrists, not to stop me, just to anchor.
“Talk to me,” I say, our foreheads touching.
“It’s… a lot,” she breathes, and somehow she’s laughing a little, her breath shaky. “But I want it. I want you.” I press against her further, and she winces, so I pause, but this time she lifts her hips, attempting to pull me back inside her.
“Oh!” She winces.
“Hey, we have all night, I don’t want to hurt you.”
That soft haze in her eyes has turned into a dark, lustful stare. She bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes squeezing shut as she lifts her hips and takes me even deeper. “Fuck me, Scotty, please. I don’t care if it hurts.”
“Fuck, baby.” Hearing her plead for my cock sends me into overdrive.
I kiss the smile right off her mouth and slide in another inch, then another, stopping to let her body welcome mine. Every muscle in my back goes tight with restraint as she digs her nails deeper into my flesh with a loud groan.
“That’s it, baby,” I murmur against her lips. “You’re doing perfectly.” I lick my fingers and slip them between us, finding her clit. “Let me in a little more. Let me make you feel good.” I drop my head down, dragging my tongue around her nipple before wrapping my lips around it.
“Yessss.” She hisses, her back arching so she’s trusting her tits in my face. I take the opportunity to continue lavishing both of them with my tongue, biting down hard when I drive myself even further inside of her.
“Oh goddamn.” The words are barely audible as my eyes roll to the back of my head.
Her legs wrap higher around my hips, heels sliding over the backs of my thighs. She lifts to meet me, and that small, trusting move wrecks me. I press deeper, firm but careful, until I’m nearly seated, until it feels like there’s no space left in the world between us, and pause.
I can’t hold back the sound that rips out of my chest. “Jesus, Adrienne.” I breathe through my teeth, eyes shut because if I keep looking at her, I’ll forget to be gentle. “You feel—” I break off, because what I want to say feels too much, too raw.