Page 158 of Her Ex-Husband's Brother

We are in Texas.

And frankly, there are spots that cowgirl hitsjust right, especially with a cock like August’s. The G spot. I’m talking about the G spot.

I sink down on his cock and my eyelids flutter.

His hands immediately come to my waist and Jesus God, I love it when he holds me there. It makes me feel petite and like a woman, especially when he grabs on with his full hands from my waist to my hips?—

I lean over andgoddamn, there it is. My legs start shaking and I can’t help a little squeak.

August intensifies the pace from below, because he knows what that squeak means. Oh no, not already. But he’s gettingthat spot that we’ve only gotten a few times with the usual sex we do in bed. It’s a whole other register of?—

“August, oh my god, you’re hitting the?—”

“I know where I’m hitting, baby.”

He swivels his hips from underneath so even though I’m on top, he’s driving this train. So confidently, and so competently, and his cock is so thick, the tipping teasing as he thrusts and then circles, my hands scramble against the quilt he laid out and then frantically grasp at his shoulders for something to tether me down, because he takes me up so, so quickly.

He groans low, half grunting. It’s the manliest noise I’ve ever heard in my life, and I swear between that and how good he’s fucking me, and it just beingAugust?—

I squirt, and I haven’t even come yet.

This was supposed to be all about August’s pleasure tonight, but of course he’s already flipped it on me so I’m the one with my legs already shaking?—

“Harder,” I beg, something I’ve never dared quite be brave enough to do before.

Oh God.

August has started fucking me harder.

All thoughts are gone. What is thought? No thoughts.

Pleasure. There’s only pleasure. Earth-shattering, body-shaking, deep downquakingpleasure.

“Aug-ust,” I moan from deep low in my throat. “I’m gonna?—”

“I know what you’re gonna do,” he says in that low throaty voice he gets when we’re fucking. And fucks me harder still, hands on my waist, giving me the brutal thrusts I’ve only ever read about before but never imagined could feel like in real life, dinging both my clit and my g-spot like bells for the prize at a fair?—

I bury my face against August’s shoulder and scream out my orgasm.

Later that night,tucked against him in the sleeping bag, I feel his hand between my thighs, middle finger teasing at my clitoris to wake me up.

We have a clear, Godyes, wake-me-up-with-sex policy in this relationship.

I groan and open my thighs to him, hefting one leg over his hips to pull him into me. He’s already gotten me wet by the time I’m fully awake.

And then, as if by magic, his finger is replaced by his cock, as I drowsily grown and nudge him deeper into me with my heel on his ass.

The burst of the first true bite of pleasure is so delicious my back arches almost painfully as my groin rolls, aching for more contact with his.

I think he feels it, too, because his arms slip beneath mine, elbows on the mattress, hands bracing themselves on my shoulder from behind for leverage as he really starts tomove.

Not a hard, frantic energetic fucking like earlier.

But in the warmth of the sleeping bag with the brace of cold air at our faces, I feel more alive in the drowsy wake of pleasure as the man I love fucks me deep, face nuzzled in the crook of my neck than I ever knew was possible.

Oh!

So this is what they meant.