Page 67 of Miss Typed

He scooted me up, allowing our entwined fingers access, penetrating me slowly. “Does this turn you on?”

“Yes.” I practically panted out the word.

His fingers moved with mine, slowly in and out. “You have no idea how incredibly sexy you are. How much this turns me on.”

I shivered at the thought, catching my breath when he moved my fingers around my clit. Though he was slow at first, he picked up the tempo until my legs began to shake. My entire body contracted moments before my orgasm crashed over me. I sat there, open for him, my breath erratic, as I came down from the intense pleasure.

“Fuck, that was incredible. Stand up and turn around, beautiful.”

I did so on shaky legs to find him unbuckling his trousers.

He lifted his hips up to take his pants and boxer briefs down to his thighs. “Is this going to bother you?” he asked, looking up at me.

“No. Not at all.” I straddled him again, my eyes drawn to his enormous cock, exposed for me to see.

“Give me your fingers. The ones you used to touch yourself.”

I watched, completely mesmerized as he put the first one into his mouth and sucked lightly. Jesus. By the time he’d tasted the second, I was drunk on the tingling pleasure his actions sent to my core. My need was bubbling up and making me bold enough to reach for him. His skin was hot to the touch, but soft. Softer than I’d imagined. I put my fingers around his shaft and watched his eyes close at the contact. “How does it feel?”

“Good,” he choked out.

“I want to taste you.”

His hand smoothed the hair on my forehead. “You will, but if you do it now, I’m afraid it will put an abrupt ending to what we’ve started. Here, help me get the condom.”

He brought his wallet out from his back pocket and opened it to reveal the foil packet inside. “Have you ever given a blow job?”

I shook my head. “No, you?” My eyes rolled at the same time my face heated. “Jesus. I didn’t mean—”

But he chuckled. “Despite you giving me a boyfriend at the steakhouse, no, I haven’t. You and your slipups are adorable, by the way.”

Glad someone thought so. I’d certainly had some doozies.

After he opened the packet and took it out, he made quick work of sliding it down the length of him. Since I’d never seen the action performed, I found myself staring. Finally, I thought to wonder how the hell he’d fit inside of me.

“Chloe, you okay?” He tipped my chin up to look at him.

“Yeah. Just a bit apprehensive as to how you’ll fit.”

“Lift up and ease down. If it hurts too much, we can try for another position.”

The concern on his face was touching. I hovered over him, putting one of my hands on his shoulders to balance my weight and using my other hand to align my entrance with his tip. Slowly, I eased down on him. Oh, God, it burned. I shut my eyes, overwhelmed by the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Is it too much?”

“No. But slow may not be the right approach.” He was notched inside of me, but not anywhere near all the way in.

He nodded, holding my hips. “Are you ready?”

I bit my lip, ready as I’d ever be and hoping it wouldn’t hurt too badly. “I’m ready.”

Holding my hips tightly, he gave one swift thrust up to seat himself fully.

The quick shot of pain took my breath away. I stayed motionless, with my face buried in his neck, breathing unsteadily and trying to adjust to the foreign sensation of him filling me.

He didn’t move, despite his ragged breaths and the fact he was throbbing inside of me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Better now.” And I was. I could already feel the burn start to disappear and in its place a slow throb of desire. My body demanded movement. Tentatively, I lifted up a small fraction before sitting back down. Oh, that was nice. I did it again, this time lifting higher and taking him deep again.