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“Turn over,” he commanded. “Now. Get on your knees.”
I obeyed, rolling over, and raising my ass in the air while resting my forearms on the mattress.
“You want to know what gets me off?” he said as he slid his cock back inside me. “Fucking my good girl long and hard. That’s what gets me off.”
My core heated at the sound of his words. He pumped himself in and out of me, groaning with satisfaction.
“Your pussy is so tight and sweet,” he said. “And it’s all mine.”
I liked this possessive streak—a lot. His confidence was also a huge turn-on. He could read my body like a book, and he clearly knew how much I liked him controlling things in bed.
He grabbed a handful of my hair and eased me upright so my back was against his chest, wrapping an arm around my waist as he continued fucking me.
“This pussy is what gets me off,” he rumbled in my ear as he put a fingertip on my clit. “This sweet, wet pussy of yours. Feeling you come on my fingers.”
“God…Ford,” I panted.
He was circling my clit with two fingers now, and I cried out as an orgasm rocked through me hard. Ford tightened his arm around my waist as he came, his sounds of pleasure filling the room. I could feel him relax against me as he slowly pulled out and kissed my shoulder softly.
“You’re the best stress reliever ever,” I said as I laid down.
He grinned. “I’m feeling pretty relaxed myself.”
Our conversation from earlier came rushing back, and I closed my eyes and smiled. “So we’re officially a thing.”
“Yep. You’re officially my woman.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe a different word?”
He looked confused. “You want to be my bitch?”
“Fuck you.” I laughed.
He pulled me close. “How about my beautiful, amazing girlfriend?”
“I like that.” I considered what kind of a nickname I’d have for him. “And I’ll call you…my nookie monster.”
“That’s a first.” He kissed my temple. “You can call me anything you want, babe. I’m about ninety-nine percent in love with you, so I’m not feeling picky.”
I held my breath for a second at his mention of the “L” word.
“It’s okay if you’re not there yet,” he said.
Was I? I thought about how I’d felt when thinking about whether I was ready to take the plunge with Ford. Though I was scared of being in a relationship with him, the thought of not being with him was somehow scarier.
“I think I’m ninety-nine percent there, too,” I said. “I’m like…two orgasms away.”
He gave me a playful look. “Are you saying you could be one-hundred-percent in love with me by the end of the night?”
I arched a brow. “I think that’s up to you.”
He kissed me softly. “Then it’s a done deal, baby.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Ford
Two weekslater
