Page 74 of The Almost Romantic


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She wraps a hand around my aching dick, staring at my length like she’s never been this hungry before in her life. My legs shake.

As she strokes languidly, she nibbles on the corner of her lips. I tremble.

I could savor this. Standing in front of her, letting her play with my cock, cataloging her excitement.

But that’s not what the woman ordered.

I bat her hand off, then shed the rest of my clothes. “I’m gonna give you everything you want, but before you get my cock, I need to make sure you’re good and ready. How does that sound to you?” I ask, tugging on her ankle and pulling her down the bed, manhandling her since I’m pretty sure she likes that.

The shiver that runs over her body says I’m right. Then she does, too, as she says, “Sounds so good.”

I climb onto the bed, nudging her thighs apart and kneeling between them. I run a hand up her soft stomach, then to her beautiful, majestic tits. And finally, at long fucking last, I play with them.

These gorgeous beauties.

I bury my face in them, and I never want to leave. She grabs my hair, curls her fingers through it, jams my face against her tits with a loud moan. Heat roars through me. Her reaction revs my engine. But I’m pretty sure nuzzling her tits isn’t going to be enough.

As I fondle them, I move over, lying next to her. My eager fingers coast along her belly, down between her thighs, finding her slick center. My breath hitches. Hers stutters. “You’re soaked,” I say, marveling. She’s hot and silky and so turned on.

“Do something about it,” she says, at the same time as she parts her thighs for me.

“So greedy. So bossy,” I mutter against her tits.

“Do something about it now,” she demands, arching into my hand, and then using my hand as a toy.

Thrusting against it, rocking into it, seeking contact.

I follow her lead, playing with her pussy the way she wants. With teasing circles on her clit, then deep thrusts inside the warm, wet paradise. I draw a nipple into my mouth as I slide my fingers inside, then along her clit, enjoying the welcoming warmth of her.

The needy moans that fall from her parted lips.

The thrust of her hips. The journey of her hands—up to her hair, like she can barely handle how good she feels.

I stop licking since she’s breathtaking to watch.

But I can’t watch for long because she likes it too much when I play with her tits. I kiss and lick her breasts while I stroke her sweet pussy, listening to her noises, responding to her plaintive cries.

More, please, now.

Till she’s shaking, trembling then arching into my hand.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants, crying out, then shuddering as she comes undone.

When her eyes open, I bring my fingers to my mouth and lick her off each one. “You taste so fucking good. And now I get to feel you at last. Been wanting this for so long. Let me get a?—”

But before I can say condom, she sits up and kisses me, cutting me off with her greedy mouth. She’s sucking on my lower lip, sending sparks through my whole damn body, making my fucking toes curl, and that has never happened to me before.

“Gage,” she says, breaking the needy kiss, her voice more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard. “I don’t want to use a condom.”

I pause. Process. Picture.

My dick turns to granite. My blood is on fire. And my mind is vibrating.

Before I can even rasp out a yes, she adds, “I’m negative. And on birth control.”

Her words are like a filthy poem.

“Negative here,” I say with a smile.

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