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I growled, and he chuckled before nuzzling my neck. “So impatient.”
“You’re the one who said you felt as if you’d die if you weren’t inside me.”
“True.” He kissed the side of my neck. “Now, brace yourself on the bed, spread your legs, and let me turn that fantasy into reality.”
Once I was in position, my ass in the air and my pussy on display again, West ran one of his rough hands over my ass cheek. Then I felt a light nip on the opposite one before he kissed the same spot. “You have such a fucking bitable ass, Emilia.” He nipped the other cheek, and I moaned. Never would I have thought that teeth on my butt would make my pussy even wetter. But there was just something about this man that drove me wild.
After kissing my lower back, he stood, and I could feel his hard cock against my pussy. I arched my hips, desperate to feel him inside me. But he was content to rub the head of his dick through my slit, teasing my clit with little slaps, and then retreating before torturing me all over again.
Weston Wolfe had porn-star levels of control. Seriously. No guy before him had ever lasted this long, and I doubted anyone after would either.
The thought of being with another man sent a thread of sadness through my heart, but I pushed it away. Right here, right now, the future didn’t matter.
West ran a hand down my back and up again. Then he pushed his cock inside me, and I moaned as he stretched and filled me. It’d been a while, I was tight, and he was so damn thick.
But eventually, he stilled and groaned. “Fuck, Emilia. It’s as if you were made to grip me exactly the way I like it.”
He held my hips in place and started to move. Slowly at first, and then he moved faster and harder, and I gripped the bedspread, moaning and arching into his touch. I moved my hips in time to his, loving how at this angle, he hit that spot inside me that felt so good.
Gripping my hair, he tugged lightly, and I moaned louder. West growled, “Who’s inside you right now?”
“You.”
“And who owns your pussy?”
“You.”
“Squeeze me, Emilia. Let me know you’re claiming my dick too.”
It was hard to concentrate, as I was already getting close to coming again. But I squeezed my inner muscles, and damn, it made everything much more intense.
“Fuck, yes. There’s my good girl. Keep doing that.”
It was difficult, and I just wanted to let him claim me and take it. But I clenched and teased him, and he rewarded me by rubbing my clit. “Come for me, Emilia.”
As he pinched my clit, I came, the orgasm even more intense than the first one, to the point that I cried out and screamed and shouted his name.
He released my hair, and with a grunt, he gripped my hips and stilled, his groan something I would never forget—as if he were both dying and happy at the same time.
When West finished, he leaned down and kissed the nape of my neck, the touch light and tender. “I thought you’d kill me with that surprisingly strong pussy of yours.”
I giggled—actually giggled—and West laughed. He pulled out of me. I only had a second to lament the loss before he stood me up, turned me around, and pulled me up against him. He cupped my cheeks with his hands and kissed me tenderly. “When can we do that again?”
He sounded so damn eager, which only made me smile. “And here I thought older men needed more time to recover.”
After nipping my bottom lip, he growled, “I love that mouth of yours. And I can’t wait to stuff my dick inside it and have you suck me dry.”
My earlier images came rushing back, and it sent a new rush of heat through me.
But my stomach decided to rumble that second, and West frowned. “You’re hungry.”
I waggled my eyebrows. “For many things.”
He barked out a laugh and lightly slapped my ass. “Food first. Then maybe you can stuff your mouth with my dick.”
“So bossy.”
“And you love it.”
