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I eased her up by her hip, holding the base of my cock for her to sit on. Positioning myself at her opening, I smiled.
Anticipating.
Giving her what she was silently expecting, I groaned, “I love you.”
Her lips parted, gradually sliding her pussy down my shaft. She breathed through the sting of my cock splitting her open.
Claiming her lips, I demanded, “Ride me, Bay.”
She slowly rocked her hips until she got used to the feeling of my cock deep inside her. Placing her hands against the headboard for more leverage, she swayed faster and harder. Causing her head to roll back. I took her nipple into my mouth, kneading the other one, unable to get enough of her.
Another moan escaped her throat. All I could hear was desire as I fondled her breasts and sucked on her nipples.
I shifted my hand back down to her clit. Her breathing escalated, bucking her hips forward.
“Aires…”
“Fuck me,” I growled from deep within my chest.
I could feel her pussy tighten, gripping my cock like a vise. I felt her shiver as she started kissing me more aggressively.
I kissed her jaw, her neck, deliberately making my way back to her lips. Her delicate hands glided down my chest.
“Fuck…” I growled. “You feel so fucking good.” I thrusted my hips upward before roughly gripping her hips again.
Moving her harder.
Faster.
Relentless in my pursuit of her pleasure.
Both our mouths parted, breathless, riding the high and longing to fall over the edge together. The second her pussy throbbed, pulsating long and hard, I thrust in and out a few more times.
But her coming was my undoing.
Shewas my undoing.
I wasn’t letting her go.
She was mine.
And now I knew she was aware of it too.
chapterthirty-three
Bailey
One week later,I was where I belonged.
We sat on Mulholland Drive, looking up at the stars. We were back in LA. Aires wanted to pack more clothes and grab a few things from his house, and I couldn’t resist showing him my favorite spot in California. I remembered all the times I’d been there alone, thinking about my career.
Now, it wasn’t the first thing on my mind anymore. Timing was everything. It all led us to this moment when I was once again sharing another part of me with him. We were sitting on his black 1965 Lincoln Continental with suicide doors. We were on the hood of the car, lying on a cozy blanket I grabbed off his bed. Our backs were to the windshield.
He kissed me, letting his lips linger for a couple of seconds before resting his forehead against mine. Almost like he needed a moment to take me in.
To take us in.
I felt his smile against my mouth, whispering, “I always loved this view. It’s nice seeing it with you. I used to come up here alone all the time.”
