Page 119 of Blessed


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He’s telling the truth. He does know what I like, now even more than before I left New York to chase after him. The water splashes around me, but I can’t begin to care about the floor of the bathroom g

etting wet, I’m too focused on my release, which is building rapidly in the pit of my stomach.

With my knees pushing me up, as my hips grind and twirl before lowering onto his cock, taking him deep inside of me, as I whimper with both pleasure and pain as he stretches my sex to fit him perfectly. I can see the pleasure on his face, as his eyes darken, hooded by lust. The sensations flow through my body as I grip onto his shoulders for leverage, helping me power on.

Thomas rises in the tub, lifting his hips with one of his hands on my ass, pushing me downwards in harmony with his thrusts. It makes all of him enter me, smoothly and overwhelmingly pleasurable. When I gasp at the fullness, he holds me in the position, stilling so I’m forced to slide forward and backward for any relief.

"Just feel me, baby," he groans, his head back against the edge of the bathtub. I know he’s losing himself because he tries to look away when he fights his orgasm; the looks of my satisfaction turn him on too much.

Thomas always dominates the sex, and I love it. Unlike me, he doesn’t need to outwardly show he’s in control; rather he likes me to think I’m in charge although it is never truly the case. He is topping from the bottom as he dictates the pace and the stroke, even the rhythm is left to his discretion, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

"Oh, God! Baby, you’re so deep," I whine, my pussy clenching around his hardness, begging for penetration.

Sitting up, he holds me in his arms, pulling me against his chest as he pumps me hard, my nails digging into his skin as the water splashes out of the tub.

"Yes! Oh, baby, yes!" I yell, my orgasm building with every movement.

"Ungh! Fuck! Nicole, baby," he groans.

There’s nowhere to go, no escaping him as he entrances all of my senses. With his mouth pressed against my ear, grunting with her plunge deep into my velvety sex, my stomach muscles tense with anticipation at the sounds and feels of the warm breath from his lips.

His aroma has always been alluring to me, and with my nose pressed against his skin, I inhale deeply before licking and sucking his neck, the saltiness of his sweat tingling against my tongue.

"Ungh, Nicole. I love you so much, baby," he growls, and his declaration pushes me over the edge as I spiral into an all encompassing orgasm, my soul racked with intensity while he bucks into me, knowing I’m climaxing for him.

"Yes! Thomas! I love you!" I scream, happy to finally have spoken the words I’ve known to be true for so long. It’s a release in more ways than one and the admission on both of our parts only makes my orgasm that much stronger.

"Cum for me baby!" he roars, his fingers sliding against my slippery body as he struggles to grip me in the water.

His impending release is the sole motivation for his movements now, as his hips lift fast and swift, our bodies colliding in splashes of warm water until he growls loudly, pulling me into him with an extreme force, burying his length inside of me as fast as he can manage until his body explodes, oozing inside of me.

"Nicole! Baby! Oh, God!" he moans softly, his manhood oozing inside of me and I squeeze around him, wanting to feel his ultimate pleasure.

Gripping him as tightly as I can, in as many places as possible, I lift myself and slide down, clenching my muscles as he spasms uncontrollably. His hold on me is tight, as he groans with his face pressed into my shoulder.

"Milk me, baby. It’s all for you," he moans against my ear and my eyelids grow heavy with appreciation and erotic admiration.

Lifting and lowering myself, I feel him twitch inside me until there’s no more to give me, and my body rests against his, as we hold each other while the aftershocks pass through us. My heart is beating so fast, so hard, I know he can feel it as our chests both heave in sync to our unique rhythm.

Moving to face me, he presses his lips against mine, hard and desperate, kissing me like he never has before. More than passionate, our kiss is a confessional, a release in its self. We’ve finally told each other how deeply we feel for one another, although our actions have pointed to this conclusion for a while.

With my hands tugging his hair, I press my body against his, kissing him with all of the deep love I feel for him as a tear rolls down my cheek. When we finally pull away, in need of air, he tugs at my lip and I smile in giddy joy.

"What’s wrong?" he frowns, his brows furrowed as he notices my tear, gently wiping my cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Did I hurt you, baby?"

"No, no. I just… They’re good tears," I try my best to smile, and I can tell he understands.

There was so much built up, so many things left unsaid, and now that we’ve put everything on the table, and I know for sure he loves me the way I love him, a rush of relief floods me. There are no words I’d rather hear from his lips than his confession of love. My heart feels full and complete, and in that moment, like many with him, I never want it to end.

"Please don’t cry," he whispers and I try to grit my teeth to stop the onslaught of tears begging to fall from the corner of my eye.

"You’ve known how I feel about you," he whispers on my lips.

"Yes. It’s just different to hear it, that’s all," I poorly try to explain my reaction.

"Different?" He questions, tilting his head like he’s studying me.

"Better," I correct myself, his lips curling into a smirk.

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