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“Oh, Abel, I—I think I like that.” The burn inside me begins to subside. I decide to go for it, taking a deep breath before I sink all the way down on him.
Take him all the way inside me. Burying him to the hilt.
I shut my eyes and make a sound I don’t recognize, something between a gasp and a sob.
“Oh, Jenny.” He takes my hand in his and presses a kiss to my palm. The inside of my wrist. “Jenny, you’re fucking killing me.”
I feel him pulse inside me. The pain dissolves slowly at first, then faster and faster as Abel keeps playing with my clit.
It makes no sense—it’s physically impossible—but my hips roll, seekingmore.
Abel chuckles darkly. “There she is. Open your eyes, baby. Watch how well you fuck me.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m vaguely aware of the way he phrases the words. Watch howyoufuckme.
I’m in control. Abel is at my mercy.
Something about the idea makes me wild. I rock my hips, my hand on his belly as I find my rhythm. I watch his forehead crease, his eyebrows curving upward. He gets this look in his eyes. It’s almost soft, a little unfocused.
I feel that softness in my middle, even as sharp-edged desire rockets through me. His thumb is on my clit. I grab his other hand and put it on my breast. He pinches my nipple and I feel myself clench around him.
“You’re close,” Abel says. “That was quick.”
I ride his dick and bite my lip and say, “It’s because of you. I can’t seem to—you make me feel good. Best I’ve ever felt.”
His grip on my breast tightens. Almost hurts. His eyes flicker, the haziness gleaming with emotion.
My stomach twists. But before I can unpack what’s happening on Abel’s face, he’s growling and rolling me onto my back and climbing over me. He bends my knee and presses it against my chest. Then he’s inside me again, gaze locked on mine as he fucks me in deep, hard thrusts.
He’s heavy. His body pins mine to the mattress, making it difficult to breathe.
Iloveit.
The feeling of being surrounded by him. When he leans in to kiss my neck, I swear I almost pass out from sheer pleasure.
When did Abel learn to worship women this way?
He sucks on my neck, giving it a bite before moving to my mouth. The kiss is frantic, a tangle of tongues and labored breaths.
My heart beats loud and hard inside my chest.So this is what being alive feels like.
I’m dying to come. Slipping a hand between us, I find my clit and start to circle my fingers there.
Abel makes another growl. Pushing my hand away, he says, “I make you come.”
It’s his fingers on me now. He impales me with an especially hard, deep thrust. I sputter his name and he presses his fingers to my clit, drawing them up and down, side to side.
The orgasm rises. I’m plummeting through the air to meet it, and when I do, it slams into me with the most delicious, most devastating force.
“Jesus fuck,” Abel bites out as I spasm around him.
His thrusts become harder, less controlled, and I grab onto him in an effort not to be pulled under by the force of my completion. My body, my thoughts, everything feels unhinged.
I want it to feel like this every time.
I want it to be with him every damn time.
He’s kissing my mouth. My neck. I’m going to have hickeys tomorrow.
