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“There’s no such thing as coming too soon. Let go, shortcake. Ride it out.”
“Ride” is the word of the day. My hips hitch forward erratically, aching for more, trying to find a rhythm. Jay gives me more by sinking one thick finger into my cunt, heaving a moan against my chest.
“Look at you riding my hand.”
Holy hell I’ve never been this wet in my whole damn life. I’ve never been so wet that I could hear it.
I find my rhythm and go to town on his prodding finger. He adds a second one, stroking in and out, owning me, thumbing me over and over insistently, then softly.
He stretches me with a third finger and finds that spot. The spot. Jay pushes me over the edge.
“Jay!” I cry out, my back arching violently.
“There’s my girl. There’s my good girl.” His murmurs are cut short with a groan as I involuntarily push my breasts forward, and he turns his attention there again. Jay might be swallowing my side boob whole right now. It’s hard to tell when I’m being blinded by this orgasm.
He bathes me, worships me with attention until I come down, trembling and seizing on his wicked fingers.
When I’m finally still, I let out a long sigh and open my eyes.
“Wow, that was…”
Jay slips one, then two fingers into his mouth, cleaning my scent from him like a lazy cat bathing itself. He keeps his eyes trained on me as he does this. “Fun?”
I give him a grinning, contented nod.
He chuckles. “Lie down and get some rest.”
I don’t need any rest. Instead, my hands reach for his belt, but he swats them away.
“I said lie down.”
Jay’s firmness has me quivering, unsure what will happen next.
What was on that list again?
seven
Jason
That flirtatious skirt is flipped up over Journey’s waist as she lies back against the pillows.
As I crowd over her on the bed, all I can think is, Damn, what a sight. Her breasts, nipples, and throat bear the tiny red marks from my mouth that will bruise later. Her heavy-lidded gaze regards me as she lies on her side, tugging the front of my shirt to pull me down for a kiss.
“Thought you said you wanted me to rest.”
I give her a searing look. “This is how you rest whenever I’m around.”
All that implies is going to get me into trouble. But it’s too late. I already know that this isn’t going to be our first and last time together.
“Oh,” is all she says as I knock her legs open, revealing her swollen, damp pussy, its tight line of dark curls beckoning me to have my fill.
I’m drunk at the sight of her. Journey’s softly rounded lower belly below her navel. The subtle trail of soft hair—and still more freckles—begging to be touched.
“Take the skirt off… that’s a good girl.”
With the mussed chiffon out of the way, she can watch me as I worship her lower belly. Pooch. Whatever it’s called. I growl on it as I run my palms over the soft, yielding flesh.
Gooseflesh rises across her skin.
