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“Ford …” She was tilting her head up, staring down at me with a hunger in her eyes and on her lips. “You’re going to make me come.”
I wanted to taste it.
To watch it.
To hear her scream.
To know I was the one giving her this feeling.
Rather than answer, I gave her more.
I twisted my wrist, my finger hitting her G-spot, rubbing across it.
“Oh fuck,” she cried, her knees bending, her feet pushing onto the edge of the tub so she was rocking into me. “Yes!”
I could feel how close she was.
Her clit hardened, the wetness thickening on my skin.
God, she was fucking beautiful.
So was her pussy as it closed in around me, each breath a moan, each movement adding to her build.
I plunged.
I licked.
And within just a few of both, she was squirming.
“Ford!”
Ripples blasted across her stomach, and I watched each one, every burst of pleasure as it spread through her.
“Oh!” she gasped. “Yes!”
It happened quickly, wave after wave.
I could feel it on my finger.
I could see it move across her, the way her stomach shuddered, how her legs wanted to cave, how her pussy kept me sucked in, clenching as she moaned through each breath.
“My God!”
Stunning.
Always.
But when she came, when she turned her most vulnerable, now, that was a whole different look on her.
One I could stare at forever.
And I did as I licked through her orgasm, slowing only when she settled.
But I still stayed there, kissing, spreading her wetness, waiting for her to come back to me.
To push through that fog.
When she did, when her eyes refocused and fixed on mine, she panted, “What the hell was that?”
I tasted her on my lips. “What you asked for.”
“I …” Her voice trailed off as she tried to catch her breath. “Every time is unlike the others. It’s never”—she shook her head—“felt like that before.”
I kissed the inside of her thigh. “Do you want it again?”
I could spend all day with my face between her legs.
We were in no rush.
This room was ours until we left.
“Yes.” She pulled at my hair, trying to lift me from the water. “But, no, I want you.” She wrapped her legs around me. “Please, Ford. I need you.”
And, damn it, I needed her.
I moved her to the very edge of the outer lip of the tub, and I stood from the steamy water, my dick so fucking hard that it was reaching for her.
My palm went around my shaft, pumping, readying myself.
I lifted her legs to my waist, feeling them lock behind me, holding the outside of her thighs while I teased her with my crown.
“Yes,” she hissed. “Give it to me.”
She was soaked.
Dripping over my tip.
And when I was only an inch in, she was already squeezing me.
“Sydney …” I moaned, my head falling back, my mouth opening as I plunged into her. “Hell fucking yes.”
I knew the feeling.
It greeted me every time.
But she had described it dead on—each time was different.
A tightness that instantly milked my cock.
