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Well, shit, he really is too smart since he keeps outmaneuvering me even while he’s horny. “I could suck you off,” I offer.
“I don’t think so. That would mean you get to see my cock.” Coen tilts his head to the side and licks and bites his way up my neck. “Don’t worry about me, I’m more than happy with this arrangement. You’re the one who’s wound up entirely too tight.”
Rather than arguing and fighting my corner, I sag against the wall, trusting Coen to take care of me. I selfishly let myself enjoy every swirl and pump of his fingers, and when I feel my orgasm is about to crest, I beg him to kiss me. Each thrust of his tongue matches his finger play.
Coen breaks our kiss and pulls back with a mischievous grin on his lush lips. “Feel better now?” Even though the question feels like a taunt because he hasn’t made me see stars yet, I don’t care.
“Yes,” I rasp, surprised to find that it’s true.
Being together like this brings me some kind of… Peace. Coen always has this way of making me feel at ease. As though his mere presence can take away all the nastiness I’m trying to lock down tight. No, that’s not right. He doesn’t take anything away from me. He helps me accept it because he doesn’t just accept me—he loves me just the way I am.
I’m just about to share my profound revelation when movement behind Coen grabs my attention. Looking over his shoulder, I see Luis looking at us through narrow eyes. His nostrils flare, and his hands are clenched into fists. I blink in confusion, and when I open my eyes again, we’re alone. I tense up, feeling guilty that my mind is on Luis when it’s Coen’s fingers I’m riding.
“Stop thinking,” Coen groans in my ear, just as he scissors his fingers inside me and picks up his pace. “Stay with me, Mia. Feel what I’m doing to you, and don’t you dare think of anything else.”
The movement makes stars dance in front of my eyes as I squeeze them shut. “Oh. My. God. Don’t stop… Keep going.” I think that’s what I say, it’s what I mean to say. However, when his fingers curl inside of me, and he grazes a particular spot, I see nothing. Waves upon waves of pleasure take over my body until I become limp in Coen’s arms.
