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The slow, tender way in which he made love to my pussy with his mouth filled me with angst and made me want more. No man had ever taken his time pleasing me the way Jeremiah was. He was completely in tune with my body—doing more of what made me move or moan. I was cumming against him, though it felt like it took him little effort to get me to that point, and he stayed there—continuing to eat my pussy as if I wasn’t leaking into his mouth.
The more I squirmed, the more he held me in place, by my waist, my thighs, my neck. It wasn’t until he made me cum a second time that he stopped his successful attempts to keep me from running.
His fingers were back in my opening as he slurped and licked my clit, free arm holding my trembling legs down on the bed. I felt that familiar warmth building up within me and it made me beg him for mercy. It didn’t come. Not until I came. Only after that third time did Jeremiah allow me to push him away.
He made his way up my frame with a satisfied smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. When he wrapped my legs around him and they fell he laughed.
“Chapel…”
“It’s your fault.”
The smile in his eyes was a sensuous flame. “How is it my fault?”
“You ate my pussy way too good, pooh. I’m weak.”
“You want a break?”
Before he could lift himself, I was gently taking his dick into my hand and putting it at my opening.
“No, I want you.”
Jeremiah placed my ankles on his shoulders, slowly stretching me with his length, inch by inch. His first stroke was a command, and my walls sucked him in, and happily obliged. The steady rock and roll of his hips against me was a dance I never wanted to end. I was so wet I thought I’d started my period. Looking between us, I whimpered at the sight of my wetness coating him. Fluttering eyes locked in on his chains—how they dangled each time he entered and exited me. The slow, methodical pace of his strokes had me tightening against him as I moaned his name.
Kisses turned into his moans and groans as he buried his face in my neck. My nails dug into his back as I gasped for air and tried to remember how to breathe. As tingles crept up my spine, my toes curled, and I braced myself for what I was sure would be a hard climax.
My lips quivered as I told him, “I’m about to cum.”
“I know, Angel,” he moaned against my ear before sticking his tongue inside.
That act had my eyes rolling into the back of my head as I came underneath him.
“Shit, Jerry.” I pressed into his stomach, but that didn’t keep him from continuing his satisfying strokes. My pussy opened up for him more, allowing him to go deeper. “You’re so deep,” I moaned as my trembling legs fell from his shoulders.
“You want me to stop?” he asked breathlessly.
“No. Please don’t stop.”
“You can take it?” The half-grin he gave me before tugging his bottom lip between his teeth had me wanting to say yes to just about anything.
“I can take it.”
“That’s my good girl.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, and I took it. I took every fucking stroke—all night—and by the time we did fall asleep, I was weak, full of his cum, and completely sated as he held me with a smile on my face.
17
The Next Wednesday Mixer
I was feeling risky,and brave. Being loved on by Jeremiah sparked something in me that felt dead for quite some time. With renewed confidence and security, I strutted over to the table where Allegra was seated and asked if she’d join me and Jeremiah. When she agreed, I went over to the bar and grabbed Nova as well. It was a rare occasion where he was by himself while Tiffany cackled with a few of her friends at the office, though I wasn’t sure how long that would last.
“This is nice,” Allegra said, pouring herself a glass of strawberry wine. “I’ve missed you guys.”
“Same,” Nova replied.
“I’ve missed this too. We have to find a way to get back to us,” I said.
All eyes were on Jeremiah. I placed my palm on his thigh and he looked at me. I could tell by the hardness of his expression that he was doing this for me. My thumb massaged the space between his eyebrows, and he smiled.
