Page 63 of Little Miss Fortune

‘I want you to make me cum. Right here, on the rug.’ I think that it might be faster than getting to his bed.

The magic words have been uttered. Satisfied with my command, Toby grabs a cushion from the couch and lays it under my hips. His teeth bite on my inner thigh, as his hand finally finds my clit. I berate myself for ever thinking that he wouldn’t be able to find it, because he is applying masterful speed and pressure.

He watches intently, studying me to figure out what works. I try to hide my face from him with my arm, but he pulls it down.

‘Let me see you?’ he asks, probably seeing how red I turned.

This sex feels more exposing than sex has ever been. As if I am an object in a museum. Painting in a gallery. Toby’s free fingers trace over my skin, finding any mark and scar, whilst his other fingers are stuck in the same perfect motion. I feel myself drunk from his gaze, full from his attention, and so close to finishing. He knows it too. And he stops.

I try to catch a breath as disappointment brews in me, but I am not given a moment of rest. He crosses his middle and index fingers and slides them into me, slowly twisting as they slide in and out. His mouth takes the space over my clit. His tongue and fingers work in tandem with each other. My own moans are getting louder and more uncontrollable. All I can think about is how I am not allowed to cover my face, even though this is too much for one person to handle.

Heat burns from the inside and the outside. I feel as if I need to push him off to breathe, but my hand just plunges into his hair, begging him to not stop.

‘Please, Toby, I am so close. Keep going.’ Please, whatever game you want to play, do not stop right now.

His tongue becomes more determined, the range of motion in his fingers more extreme Every single pleasure point has somehow been activated. The sensation that I’m about to reach the peak of pleasure is growing. His eyes are fixed on me. The hunger in them sends me over the edge.

When my body contorts, and my thighs clasp around him, he releases me. A victorious smile shines like a medal on his face. I probably would give him a medal right now, fucking hell.

That’s when I catch a glimpse of him. He was not fully erect, because he is now. My rapid heartbeat pulses in every part of my body. Is a small part of that fear?

‘What do you want?’ I wipe his mouth with my hand, stroking his lips with my thumb. Have I ever noticed how perfectly shapely they are?

‘So many things.’ He positions himself on top of me, his tip teasing my entrance.

‘That’s not an answer.’ I half say, half whimper, enough for his lips to curl in an entertained smirk.

‘I want all of you,’ he says, falling into me.

I can’t believe that I ever thought that sex with John was good. Or with any previous men. There were moments that were great. But what I am feeling right now is pure ecstasy. As if it was meant for me. My nails dig into Toby’s back with every thrust, his moans are in my ear, his mouth is on mine. Every sense is filled with him, and somehow it doesn’t feel enough.

As if reading my mind, he throws my legs on his shoulders. A sound escapes my mouth that is both concerning and embarrassing. Toby stops for a moment out of shock, but when I squeeze him from the inside and let my hips grind against him more slowly, he matches my pace, letting my body make enough space for him. I grab his hand and suck on his fingers—my mind needing more of him than I thought I could take.

‘Fuck,’ I hear as my hand strokes over the vein on his forearm.

His eyes run over the sight: his fingers in my mouth, my knees on his chest, me completely naked on the floor of his flat. I feel my face flush bright red, as I get more and more wet from him pausing in me.

He pulls away and I could scream for him to return. But he lifts me up, carrying me to the bedroom. A tall mirror is in front of the bed.

‘I want to see your face.’ He sets me on all fours on the mattress. His voice is gruff, pleading, like a sinner before worship.

The thought of him being just as impacted by not being in me makes my head dizzy with lust. He can ask me anything right now, and I will do it.

Toby kisses my back, pushing it down, arching it for his own pleasure. His hand is in my hair, gently tugging on it to make me look at him through the mirror as he gets behind me. He thrusts into me, and I want to shut my eyes and dig my face into the sheet so he doesn’t see how I react to him. But his arm is steady and strong; his eyes are glued to me. He gets more powerful with every moan escaping my lips, bathing in the pleasure that he brings me.

He speeds up, building pressure within me. His hand lets go, satisfied that I can hold my head up on my own. Instead, he grabs onto my hips, as if he is the one who might lose himself in pleasure without them anchoring him down. I arch my back as low as it will go.

‘Fuko,’ he whispers, as if begging for mercy, for release.

‘Toby.’ His name comes out like a prayer.

Complete pleasure rolls over him. His sculpted body tenses and fully relaxes into me.

He drapes the covers over us, as the darkness of sleep overtakes, leaving all the problems for tomorrow.

CHAPTER 22

The more Toby knows who Fuko is and what she wants, the less he lets things upset him