Page 20 of Pucking Good Girl

His hand dips between my legs, and Macklin moans against my lips. “Have I ever told you how much I love how wet you get for me?”

The answer is on the tip of my tongue, but my brain short circuits when Macklin runs the tips of his fingers, coated with my arousal, over the length of my slit. He reaches my clit, rubbing a light, quick circle around it.

“Where are you going?” I cry when he abandons my most sensitive spot to focus his attention on my entrance.

“Lie down, baby.” He says softly, “Relax against the pillows. I promise I’ve got you.”

I do as I’m told.

Macklin has never let me down so far, and I trust him.

“Do you mind opening your thighs a little wider for me?”

Again, I don’t question him. I spread my thighs wide. I’m used to splits when I dance, so my muscles are used to it.

His blue eyes are zeroed in on the most intimate part of me. “I hope you know how beautiful you are, baby. You’re perfect.”

Warmth rises to my face, and I know I’m blushing. But this time it isn’t out of embarrassment. I love it when he looks at me like this and he tells me that I’m perfect. I might even start to believe him.

Macklin sits sideways on the bed with my ass on his lap. In this position, he enters me with his index and middle finger. His palm is facing down.

At first, I don’t understand why he’s keeping his hand that way. The answer comes when Macklin begins moving his first two fingers in and out of me, curling his ring finger his and pinky.

“Oh my God.” I choke out.

Every time his index and middle fingers move, the knuckles of the other two fingers rub against my clit.

I’m so wet that he finds no resistance, and my body reacts to every thrust and brush of his fingers with waves of pleasure.

It’s so intense that my eyes slide closed as I feel myself soar, ready to explode.

“Talia, baby. I want you to look at me.”

I open my eyes, meeting his dark blue ones.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

I nod, not trusting my voice not to break.

As Macklin keeps moving his hand in and out of me, he inserts the first two fingers of his other hand into his mouth.

I’m wondering why, convinced he’s about to touch himself since I can feel him rock-hard against my outer thigh.

But rather than closing his fingers around the base of his shaft, Macklin lowers them between my legs too.

With my thighs opened so wide, my other hole is exposed too, and that’s my boyfriend’s target.

“Is this ok, baby?” He asks, circling his wet fingers against my puckered hole.

I nod again. There is no doubt in my mind that if I asked him to stop, he would do so immediately.

“One day,” Macklin murmurs. “I’ll fuck you here too.”

He isn’t entering my back door. His fingers are just pressing and circling, teasing.

The way he’s looking at me, like he can never have enough of me, and his touch pushes me over the edge.

“Oh.”