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I need it as much as she does; maybe more.
I’ve never been as invested in someone’s pleasure as I am in Avery’s. It’s like it fuels me, gives me life.
I increase the pressure on her G-spot, and her pussy spasms around my fingers. Her thighs clench so tight around my head, I fear I might suffocate.
But at least I’ll die happy.
Her body is wracked with tremors, and this time when her orgasm crests, she screams, and I swear her entire body ripples like waves crashing into the shore. I slow down, stroking her gently as she rides surge after surge of pleasure.
As I rise from between her thighs and lick her sweet juices from my lips, I know I’m fucked.
One night with Avery will never be enough.
There might not be any promises or regrets, but here’s one promise I know I can make.
I will always want her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I think I’ve died.
I’m pretty sure my soul has left my body.
Not that I have a wealth of experience, but no guy has ever cared about my pleasure before. I was always a means to an end. But this?
There are no words to describe this feeling.None.Foster’s mouth is magic. His fingers are magic, and I can only imagine what his dick can do.
Fuck.
Gloria was right. That damn thing of his feels huge, and I know he’s going to wreck me in the best way possible.
There is no way I can survive this unscathed.
Foster Craig is a reckoning, a force that I was nowhere near ready for.
He rises from between my thighs, a feral look on his face, and holds my gaze as he slides his fingers from my pussy and sucks them into his mouth.
Holy… Fuck me.
That’s the hottest thing I’ve seen in my entire life. That’s going in the book for sure.
His fingers slip from his mouth torturously slow, and even though I’ve had three orgasms, that bitch vagina of mine is clenching and ready for her next fix.
“I think that’s my new favorite dessert.” He rumbles his approval and runs those fingers over his soft lips. “I could lick your pussy all night.”
My nipples pebble against the lace of my bra, and I shift on the bed as my core trembles with need. I didn’t know I’d be such a fan of dirty talk, but coming from his mouth with his British accent, I can’t get enough.
He shifts off the bed, and I keep my eyes glued to his body.
It’s the best I’ve ever seen.
His lean muscles are strong and ripple with every little move he makes. His shoulders and chest are a sculpted masterpiece. They’re muscular but not too bulky. His waist is narrow and tapers off to a clearly defined V. And those abs?Please.Michelangelo couldn’t have done a better job.
I want to trace every ridge with my finger—and then my tongue.
Foster tosses his wallet on the bed and unzips his gray dress pants, dragging them down his strong thighs. He leans his head to the side, watching me as he removes his boxer briefs and his dick springs free, bobbing against his abs. And is that—
Metal?
