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Reed is the most understanding and caring man in the world. He will always try to put my needs first. But he doesn’t realize that, right now, I don’t need space or time apart. I need to feel him bottoming out inside of me while he makes me see fucking stars.
Hopping off of his lap, I watch his face contort into confusion. The blanket that surrounds us falls to the ground. Placing my hands on my hips, I grab the bottom of his shirt that I’m wearing and smirk.
“What are you doing?” he mumbles and lifts his hips, adjusting the pants that look painfully tight against the outline of his thick cock.
“We aren’t rushing into anything, Reed,” I say confidently as I lift the shirt up and over my head, exposing my bare chest. I toss the shirt on the ground with the blanket. “I love you, and I want to have sex with my stupidly hot boyfriend before the doctors take these away from me,” I say, cupping my boobs.
It might not make sense to him, but I need to do this for myself. Maybe I am selfish—at least sometimes. But I need him to fuck me while I still feel somewhat normal. Maybe that’s messed up, but I need this. With my wig on and my killer boobs still intact, I want Reed to fuck me like he used to—with crazy passion and a bit of roughness. I don’t want him to treat me like I’m fragile.
His head tilts to the side, and his eyes narrow. I can tell he is debating on whether or not to check in with me and see how I’m feeling about everything or bending me over this couch. I hope he chooses the latter. We can talk later.
“Please,” I beg and place my hands on his thighs. Then, I move my right hand and grab his erection. I groan, “Please fuck me like it’ll be the last time you ever wil—”
He catches my mouth and brings it down to his. “Don’t even finish that sentence. Your surgery will go perfectly, and you will be perfect. Because you are fucking perfect—with or without these.”
He flicks my nipple, and I flinch at the shocking jolt that pulses through me. What if I don’t have any sensation similar to that after my surgery? That’s why I need this. I need to feel everything in case I can never feel some of it again.
“Suck on them, play with them, fucking worship them before they’re gone. I’m begging you,” I cry out to him.
He closes his eyes and grunts, “I think I love hearing you beg.”
“Yeah?” I squeeze him, and he groans. “Please, Reed. Fuck me.”
His hand flies up and grabs me right beneath my jaw. He crashes his lips to mine, and any resolve he has completely snaps.
He parts my lips with his tongue and plunges it inside of my mouth. He consumes me with his kiss, and I couldn’t be happier about it. He stands up, slides his hands around my ass, and lifts me up. I hook my hands around his neck and my legs around his waist, and he carries me to my bedroom without either of us coming up for air.
He tosses me playfully on the bed and stares down at me. Something about a blond-haired, blue-eyed six-foot-three man that’s all mine towering over me has me feeling animalistic. His fingers grip my shorts, and he tears them and my panties off of me in one fell swoop.
“Open your legs for me.” he demands, and I obey happily. “Fucking hell, Charlotte. You’re dripping onto the bed; you’re so goddamn wet.”
His words make my pussy flutter as he crawls between my legs and places his hands on the inside of my knees, pushing my legs apart as far as they can go. The stretch in my hips feels like it’s pulling on my core.
His stare is mesmerizing, and I can’t look away. He holds me in place with his hands and his gaze as his tongue slams into my wetness. He drags his tongue up my center, lapping me up.
“Fuck, I forgot how good you taste,” he growls against me, and the vibrations dance over my clit.
He slides a thick finger inside of me, and I gasp as one quickly becomes two. His tongue continues to worship me as his fingers hook inside of me and threaten to send me over the edge.
His other hand reaches over my stomach and cups my breast. The rough pad of his thumb rubs my nipple in an intoxicating rhythm.
“Reed,” I gasp as a shiver runs from my toes, through every single cell in my body, and up through my head.
He sucks on my clit, his tongue flicking it at the same time. He pulls back just for a second. I feel his lips tilt up against my pussy, and he says, “There we go, baby. I feel you tightening up around my fingers. Keep going. You’re almost there.”
His lips and tongue go back to their tortuous rhythm, and I fucking lose it.
My body explodes, and I cry out, “Reed! Fuuuck!”
He continues to work me through my orgasm, making it last for what feels like forever. He stands up, and in record time, he strips himself of his sweats, boxers, and T-shirt. As his dick springs free from its cage, I lick my lips and scoot my hips toward the end of the bed.
He steps forward and slides his cock through my wetness. “Fuck, Charlotte.”
He pulls back and thrusts forward again, the tip of his dick rubbing my clit. I gasp, and he bites his bottom lip.
“Promise me something,” he demands as he grabs his shaft and pumps it once before teasing my entrance with the thick tip.
“Hell of a time to ask me to promise anything,” I mumble and wiggle my hips, trying to feel more of him.
