Page 77 of The Rebel

The reason my mouth was on her cunt was to make her come.

So, I did what I knew would get her there, dragging the long wetness across her clit, massaging the top, circling until I felt it harden—the sign that she was close.

Along with the, “Cooper,” that she exhaled every few breaths.

I wanted to feel her come.

I wanted to hear it.

I increased the speed in which I licked, the pressure in which I pressed, and I added a second finger, twisting my wrist, aiming the point toward her G-spot.

It took seconds.

Just like I had known it would.

“Fuuuck!” she shouted across her bedroom.

Her knees bent.

Her back arched.

Her nails dug into the top of my head.

“Ohhh, yesss,” she added right before the shudders pounded through her stomach, causing a rippling that I felt in my tongue. “Cooper! Fuck! Me!”

Her legs threatened to cave in, and I held them apart, her nails stabbing me so hard I was sure she was drawing blood.

I didn’t care.

I needed her to feel good.

I needed to taste her cum.

I lapped even harder, sending her past that cliff, not letting up until she stilled.

When she did, she purred, “Mmm.” There was a moment of silence before, “That was … well, I don’t know that I even have words for what that was.”

I kissed the spot I’d been licking and carefully pulled my fingers out, moving up her body until I was hovering over her again. “That was the beginning, Rowan.”

“The beginning,” she sighed, like she couldn’t believe it.

Using her waist, I turned her onto her stomach, positioning her ass and legs so that I was able to poke at her entrance. And while my cock worked its way in, I kissed across her shoulders and down her back.

Taking in her scent.

Her skin.

Her sounds as she moaned, “Cooper.”

I didn’t need to be gentle. We were beyond that. She welcomed my size, and by now, her pussy knew just what to do with me.

So every inch that I stroked in, she hugged me.

She became tighter.

Wetter.

And the deeper I went, the narrower she became.

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