Page 60 of Dancing Struggles


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“You’re incredible.”

“You’re the worst,” I say.

“I’ll ruin you.” And then he moves me in a way that pulls me down on him and he kisses me hard and deep.

I take that opportunity to reach down and grasp his cock, and then I pull back from the kiss, sit up on him, and position his thick cock at my entrance I sink down on him. All the way.

There’s no talking then. The sex isn’t measured. It’s hard, deep, erotic. It finds it’s own rhythm and he reaches up with one hand to grasp a breast, to play with a nipple, then he slides it down and uses his fingers on my clit as he slams up into me.

The pleasure building in me shoots straight up and over the edge and I come, hard.

His moans mix with mine, filling the room.

But he doesn’t stop. This time, he flips us and pushes my legs up to his shoulders to sink into me in deep, long strokes. And soon, I’m up there again, his mouth right near mine, and the fucking becomes something else, something more.

It’s sensual and earthy. It’s the world sucked down to just him and me and nothing else, and I want more. More of him, more of this. More of everything, as long as it has to do with him. And I want more of the orgasms he gives me.

He slams into me again and again and then he reaches between us once more to stroke my clit and soon I’m up there, way higher than before and I’m pushing up at him.

Leland does it all harder, and the moment he finds the sweet spot that makes me start moaning, crying, and speaking nonsensical words, he keeps at it, over and over, never changing the thrusts, never changing the magic he works with his fingers, and then I’m coming apart.

Shaking.

Screaming.

Crying.

Every part of me explodes with pure pleasure.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh . . . Leland. Fuck!”

“Oh fuck.” And he goes stiff, convulses, and comes in me, filling me, pulsating.

I can’t think or do anything except let those intense waves slam into me.

It’s the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.

His face is buried in my throat, and he kisses me there, breathing hard.

Leland eases my legs down but doesn’t pull out, his hands roaming over me, like he’s touching something sacred.

I breathe, trying to get back down to earth.

He rolls us so I’m on top and he pulls me down for a kiss.

And then . . .

Reality hits.

Chapter Eighteen

Leland

I’m boneless. And it’s fucking hard to think. I wanted to worship her, go down on her, spend quality time between her thighs, and reacquaint myself personally with how good she’ll taste on my tongue, but she had other ideas. Good ideas, I gotta add, but hey, the night is young.

Sarah gets off me, and I half reach for her but drop my arm.

Oh, fuck, man, is she something else. Even before I knew who she was—or let myself know or whatever the hell is wrong with my brain—I knew it was going to be good this time. Maybe better than before.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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