Chapter Three #2
The sight of him bare from the waist up stole the next joke before it formed. He stood in the kitchen opening with his broad shoulders and lightly furred chest bare above the waistband of his jeans.
Years of ranch work showed in every hard muscle.
Titus reached for me again, but I stopped him with a hand against his chest.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
I took another towel from the bathroom shelf, folded it on the kitchen floor beside the counter, and stepped back between his legs.
His gaze dropped to the towel, then returned to me. “You planned that?”
“I like my knees.”
“That makes two of us.”
The laugh barely left me before Titus lifted me onto the quartz. The stone was cool beneath my thighs. He spread my thighs and stared at my pussy with open hunger.
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
“Your tongue.”
He bent and gave it to me.
The first slow stroke made my back arch. Titus held my hips near the edge and dragged his tongue over my pussy, then circled my clit with maddening patience.
My heels pressed against the cabinet below.
“Firmer,” I said.
His tongue flattened and rubbed harder.
“Yes. Like that.”
Titus made a low sound that vibrated against me. He slipped one finger inside, then a second when I opened wider for him.
My head tipped back. The white kitchen ceiling blurred above me.
“Don’t stop.”
“I won’t.”
His breath warmed my wet skin.
He curled both fingers and found the place that made my thighs shake. I reached down and gripped his short hair while his tongue worked my clit in steady strokes.
Pleasure gathered fast and sharp. I rocked against his tongue.
“That’s it,” Titus said. “Take what you need.”
The praise pushed me over.
I came with his name torn from my throat, my hips lifting from the quartz while he stayed with me through every hard pulse. He slowed only when my legs stopped trembling.
Titus rose and kissed the inside of my thigh.
I looked down at him, his hair mussed and his lips wet.
“Every rule,” I managed.
He stood, smiling. “Forgotten?”
“Temporarily unavailable.”
“That’ll do.”
I slid off the counter and reached for the button of his jeans.
Titus’s cock sprang free when I pushed the denim and his boxer briefs down his hips. He was thick, long, and already slick at the tip.
He stepped out of them before I wrapped my hand around him.
His chest rose sharply.
“Too tight?” I asked.
“No.”
I stroked once, watching the muscles in his stomach pull taut. Then I knelt on the folded towel and took him into my mouth.
Titus’s palm settled lightly against the back of my head without pushing. He groaned when I sucked him deeper.
The sound went straight through me.
I drew back and circled the head with my tongue. “Do you like that?”
“Yes.” His voice had gone rough. “Put your mouth back on me.”
I did.
His hips moved once before he stopped himself. I held his gaze and took him deeper the next time, using my hand where my lips couldn’t reach. A flush climbed his chest, and his breathing lost its steady rhythm.
“Shay.” He eased back gently. “If you keep going, this ends earlier than you asked for.”
I kissed the tip. “Are you asking me to stop?”
“I’m asking you to stand up.”
“You were almost polite.”
“It’s the best you’re getting.”
I rose, and Titus kissed me before I’d straightened fully. He backed me toward the quartz, his cock hard against my stomach.
“Turn around,” he said. “If you still want the counter.”
“I do.”
I faced the quartz and braced myself near the edge.
Titus came behind me. “Lean forward.”
I lowered onto my forearms, my feet firm on the floor. He stroked down my spine, over the curve of my ass, then between my legs.
Two fingers slid through my wetness and stroked my clit.
I pushed back against him.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Yes. I want your cock inside me.”
He guided the broad head to my entrance and pressed in slowly.
The stretch stole my breath.
Titus stopped. “All right?”
“Yes.” I reached behind me and gripped his thigh. “Give me a second.”
He stayed still while my body opened around him.
“Now,” I said.
He eased deeper until his hips met mine.
I’d imagined the size of him since Monday. My imagination had lacked ambition.
Titus bent over me, his chest brushing my back. “Still good?”
“So good.”
He withdrew halfway and thrust in again.
The angle made me gasp. I braced on the quartz while he found a steady pace, each deep stroke driving me forward and pulling a broken sound from my throat.
He reached between my legs again and stroked my clit.
“Oh, God.”
“Tell me.”
“Faster.”
Titus moved faster.
The old bungalow filled with the slap of skin, our breathing, and the sounds I couldn’t keep quiet. He stayed close behind me, one arm around my waist while the other worked between my thighs.
“Right there,” I said. “Don’t change it.”
“I’ve got you.”
My body tightened around him. Titus groaned, but his pace held.
His cock filled me with every thrust while he rubbed tight circles over my clit. The pleasure wound tighter. My legs threatened to give.
He pulled me closer against his chest and kept me steady.
“Come for me, Shay.”
I did.
Pleasure broke through me in hard waves, stronger than the first. I cried out and pushed back against him while my pussy clenched around his cock.
Titus buried himself deep and held there through the last shudders. Then he thrust twice more, rough and controlled, and came with my name against my shoulder.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.