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“Thanks,” Bourne murmured. “Stay safe.”
“10-4,” Sammy said. “Will you bring my jacket with you when you leave?”
Bourne smoothed his hand up the length of my ass, his fingers dipping into the crack of my ass and causing me to shiver as he did.
I’d never thought about anal sex before.
But when his fingers were inches away from that forbidden back entrance? And your man was currently deep inside of you not moving, giving you time to think? Yeah, now I was thinking about it. I was thinking about a lot of things.
My pussy clenched when I thought about his fingers slipping further around, one fingertip…
“Yeah,” Bourne’s voice stayed rock-steady. “I’ll bring it. I think it’s with mine.”
“Great. Good luck getting home,” Sammy called.
Did he sound further away now?
I licked my lips and lifted my hips, desperate for Bourne to continue moving.
“You are slowly killing me,” Bourne murmured. “You want him to find out?”
I closed my eyes, but still I couldn’t help myself.
I needed him to move in the worst way.
“Sure can’t find it in me to care right now,” I panted.
He chuckled, then started his slow, methodical thrusts again. The ones designed to drive me insane while also ratcheting up the anticipation.
He hitched me up higher against him then, and his hand moved that last half an inch.
His fingers were now touching my back entrance.
We both froze.
Or maybe just I did.
When he went to move his fingers, I whined.
“No.” His hand stilled before he could move it so much as a millimeter. “Leave it.”
He left it.
But he also didn’t move that hand again.
He just left those fingers there, teasing my entrance, applying pressure, but not actually moving.
It was worse than his slow thrusts.
“Bourne,” I pleaded. “Please. Please. Please.”
Reaching forward, I yanked his mouth to mine by latching onto his hair.
He came willingly and I felt him smile against my frustrated lips.
“If you don’t start moving…” I threatened.
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll scream,” I growled. “Please.”
He started to move again, this time in a much more frantic pace than before.
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
His hard cock entered me roughly, pulled back, only to return just as hard.
My orgasm that was at a simmer on low, became a rolling boil on high.
The orgasm of the century was imminent, and he knew it.
“Not yet,” he ordered.
I laughed right into his mouth. “Right now.”
“Not yet.” He pushed his fingertip into my asshole.
I wasn’t sure if he’d meant to do it, or if he’d just done it in reaction to my statement.
Whatever he did, I came.
I came hard. Long. Fast. And I was pretty sure that he’d have to carry me out of here.
My senses were stolen, and I might or might not have screamed.
Luckily, it was covered by a boom of thunder.
The lightning that followed illuminated Bourne’s tortured expression.
Seconds after the flash receded, I felt him pull out of me.
Hot splashes of his come hit my wet entrance and coated the outside of my pussy. One stream hit my clit, and I swear to all that’s holy, I saw stars.
Momentarily disoriented, I was unsure what to do with my hands.
And my head was swimming.
My nerve endings were firing.
And I just knew that the last five minutes—or however long we’d been having sex for—had changed my life.
The wetness between my legs proved it.
“We’re just going to write this off as a one-time thing,” he breathed, his cock still flexing against my inner thigh. “Okay?”
I licked my lips and accidentally touched his lips with my tongue.
“Okay,” I replied breathlessly.
The man had literally just given me the best orgasm of my life, in the corner of a dark room. An occupied by about a hundred people room.
And I was telling him that it was okay that we’d done it. And that it was just a one-time thing.
As he sat me down, I reached out and grasped the table ledge. My fingers brushed against the beer bottle that I’d knocked down while putting my cake down earlier.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Ready.
Yes.
I was wet with him.
I needed to go because I didn’t know what state I was in from the waist down.
My fingers found purchase, and I nodded my head into the dark.
“I’m ready,” I whispered, moving my fingers forward and wrapping them around the glass in front of me.
I kept the beer bottle.Chapter 3
Sometimes I just look at him and bad things come out of my mouth.
-Delanie to Dillan
Delanie
One week later
I was outside watering my plants when I saw a weed that needed picked.
Bending over at the waist, I reached forward, being sure to hold the water hose out wide at my side and plucked the little devil out of the earth by the roots.
“Die,” I said to it as I plucked it and tossed it over my shoulder.
“Harsh.”
I squeaked and whirled around with the water hose swinging in a wide arc.
Seconds later, I was drenching Bourne with it.
