Page 67 of Passion in Bloom

My ass would be bruised. My thighs felt raw from the abrasion of his harder, hairier legs pushing into them over and over.

But it wasn’t enough.

Stop thinking.

Roarke is not David.

He’s not David.

“I can’t—”

“You can’t what?” he asked, slowing his thrusts to help me lean against him. Standing together, his dick still in me, I closed my eyes and worried I’d ruined.

Just stop thinking. Stop—

“Heather,” he said as he walked back to the chair. Leaning toward it, he sat at the same time he held me. His dick stayed inside me, and as he sat, settling me on his lap, I moaned at the deeper push. This angle was different, and just so much more.

“Heather,” he whispered again, brushing my hair back from my face. “I can’t know what you want, what you need, unless you tell me.”

It felt like a repeat of the other time, when I’d taunted him that communication wasn’t always verbal, with words. Right now, though, I knew I had to explain.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked as he lowered his hand to rub at my clit.

I let out a long moan of pleasure, falling right back into that deep need to come. The pressure built and built.

“Please don’t. Don’t stop.” I licked my lips, straining to swallow with how dry my throat was. Don’t ever stop. Now that I knew how good and right it could feel with him, with his big cock in me and rendering me so spineless, I never wanted to imagine an end to this.

He gathered my long hair and held it to the side so he could kiss up my neck. Slowly. Licking me until my skin was so wet and warm. Tasting me with little nips too. And all the while, his finger and thumb rubbed and teased my clit.

“I’ve got you, gorgeous.”

Fuck, I loved when he called me that. Such a simple, almost cheesy, but sincere endearment that he meant. Like it came out of his mouth without any censor or forethought at all.

“I’ve got you. And I will give you whatever you need. Whatever you want. You just have to ask, Heather. I can’t read your mind.”

I nodded, grinding my ass slightly so I could rub up and down his dick a little bit while he treated my clit to that perfect pressure.

“If talking about moving is too much, I’ll shut up.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t that. “It’s not—”

I wasn’t intimidated by the topic. It was nothing more than my stupid thoughts of my past that I couldn’t shake off.

He wasn’t asking me to do anything for him. He wasn’t expecting anything out of me. I felt like I knew that in my soul.

“I was just tossing ideas out,” he added between kisses.

Are you sure you can’t read my mind? That was precisely what I was trying to convince myself of.

“If I saw something that bothers you,” he said, still misinterpreting that I couldn’t come because of thoughts about what he asked me, “then tell me.”

I shook my head. “Oh, I’ll speak up.” I licked my lips, wondering when I’d be able to open about David. That bad thoughts of him could still plague me—even at the worst moments like when I was trying to move on sexually with him.

“Are we good then?” he asked.

I nodded, leaning over to set my hands on the edge of the table again. “Good,” I replied breathily, riding him.

I rocked back on his dick, using my grip on the table for leverage. Like this, on his lap with my feet set on the high rung of the chair, it was a different angle that had me so close to coming.