Page 56 of Two’s Better

I straightened immediately, my eyes widening with slight alarm. “Are you—? Did I—?”

“I’m going to come,” he panted, his eyes looking teary. “Fuck, fuck. I’m going to come.”

My pussy clenched hard, my satisfied clit perking her head up, getting ready to go again. “Does eating me out really get you that hot?” I teased, my gaze not leaving his face.

His response was a lifted eyebrow and a barely-there smile. “Stop fishing.”

I giggled, pressing my thighs together and staring up at him from underneath my eyelashes. “Isn’t coming kind of the point?”

“Christ,” he rasped, tilting his head back into the pillows, still squeezing his dick sinfully tight. “For God’s sake, Ofure. Let a man have his pride.”

“I literally don’t give a shit, Uzezi,” I said playfully but seriously, waiting until he met my gaze again. “I wasn’t joking last time when I said it’s such a fucking turn on.” I shrugged playfully, teasingly. “If you come, you come.”

His lips twitched, despite himself. “I’m not nearly done with you yet, Fure, baby.”

My pussy clenched again, my lower belly fluttering. “Okay, Uzi, baby.” I began to lean down once more, my hands finding their way back to the top of his thighs. “You can get hard again, can’t you?” I murmured seductively, eyeing him from underneath my lashes.

“Fuck.” He groaned, his dick jumping in his fist again. “Ofure,” he pleaded, all amusement gone. “I’m really close. I’m not joking—I’m—”

“I want it,” I whispered back. “I’m not joking, either.”

I eased his hand away from his shaft, replacing it with my own, my grip tight and firm. I remembered to tuck my teeth behind my lips, then immediately took more than half of him into my mouth, only stopping when my lips met my fist at the base, preventing me from taking him deeper. If he hadn’t gone so torturously slowly last time, I’d definitely have gagged, and even though I knew it wouldn’t have been a big deal or ruined the mood, I still hadn’t wanted it to happen. Maybe next time, I’d let go of that lingering bit of self-consciousness—let him fuck my mouth with abandon until I was gagging on his dick. The thought made my core ache. I refused to think of the circumstances surrounding this “next time”—refused to remind myself that this “thing” had an end.

Squeezing rhythmically at the base of his shaft with my fist, I swirled my tongue around the head of his dick, before paying particular attention to the sensitive frenulum.

“Ofure, God, shit, fuck.” He was panting, his left hand fisting my hair, the other nearly ripping at the sheets. His belly was clenched, his thick thighs shaking, his hips jolting as he thrust shallowly, jaggedly into my mouth like he couldn’t help it. “Goddamn, God—”

I’d barely begun to pull up, my cheeks hollowing, when he was crying out like a dying man and flooding my mouth with his release.

I moaned, clenching my thighs together hard. His grip on my hair turned nearly painful as I began to bob my head with what little skill I had, saliva spilling past my lips despite my efforts. I used the excess as lube, stroking the bit of his shaft that hadn’t fit in my mouth while I attempted to suck his come right out of him.

His orgasm seemed to stretch on for ages, his head tilted back on the pillows, neck straining, mouth open, his balls jumping with every splash into my mouth. I pulled off when he tugged on my hair with a pained-sounding whimper, but I didn’t stop stroking, squeezing every last drop from his dick until he was pushing my hand away, too.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he rasped, every inch of him quivering. “God-fucking-damn.”

“Yeah?” I sounded smug as fuck.

His gaze found mine, his expression dazed. “God-fucking-damn, Ofure.”

I preened helplessly. He seemed to need a few more moments to catch his breath.

“I swear, I can last longer than this,” he finally said, and I burst out laughing, knowing he meant me to.

I crawled up the bed, splaying my naked, slightly sweaty body on top of his. God, our naked bodies felt so good pressed together. I resisted the urge to rub up against him and purr like a content cat.

I held myself up by my arms, which were framing his shoulders. “I meant it when I said I literally don’t care, Uzi. All that matters to me is that you feel good.” The admission came out soft. Affectionate.

“Yeah. Same here,” he whispered, the words just as soft, just as affectionate.

17

For an electrifying moment, we didn’t speak, simply staring into each other’s eyes. He tugged me down at the same time I began to move. Our lips met with furious passion. He rolled us over so he was on top, his right thigh pressed between mine, kissing me so deeply, so passionately it made my chest literally ache.

He pulled back from the kiss only when we needed to breathe, both of us nearly gasping, our chests heaving. His eyes were half-lidded, lips glistening—full and swollen, parted like he wanted to say something. I saw that something in the dark heat behind his eyes, in the tender way he was cupping my jaw. That same something was building in my throat, stinging behind my eyelids.

I yanked him down when I couldn’t stand it, joining our lips once more. I spread my legs for him, and he happily slipped between my welcoming thighs.

For several moments all we did was kiss and kiss and kiss, until my lips felt raw with it, my skin rubbed sensitive from the gentle scrape of his beard. We kissed until I swore I could paint the full shape of his mouth from memory. Who knew simply kissing could be this erotic? I was so wet it was seeping out of me, trailing down between my ass cheeks, probably soaking the sheets underneath me. His hairy chest brushed against my breasts, the rough tease making my nipples ache.