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29
Jolie
I wantedto be caught and he got me. Once he tossed me over his shoulder, I squealed, only to lose my breath when I landed on the bed.
“Are you sure?” he asked, towering over me.
“Yes.”
I was tired of fighting what I wanted. Him.
“Prove it,” he challenged.
I rolled to my knees and crawled to the edge of the bed. I zipped his pants down slowly before taking his cock in my hand and wrapping my lips around the head. I took him so deep, he cupped my head in his big hands, guiding his dick past my lips to the back of my throat.
“Yeah, like that,” he said.
Far too soon, he pulled out and I watched, waiting with eagerness for what would come next as he slowly peeled his clothes off. When he finally guided my hips to turn me so I was facing the wall away from him and then with expert pressure he pushed inside me, we both groaned in satisfaction. I’d waited far too long for this.
I used my voice to cry out my pleasure and wondered why had I wasted so much time.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me,” he said, his hand between my legs, stroking my clit.
My body responded to his command. I sank into the mattress, my hips held up by his grip on me. Then I was on my side, him behind me, lifting my leg to thrust deep, helping me on my way to my next climax.
With my toes pointed at the ceiling and him pounding deep, I couldn’t hold back.
“Scream for me,” he said.
I came so hard it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I let out the cry I’d been holding in for everything, the pleasure, the pain, all of it.
I woke up the next morning, wondering what I’d done. I’d complicated everything and my head spun with it. I slid out of bed and went for coffee.
I was leaning on the counter with a mug in hand when Grant came out of the room.
His first words to me were, “You aren’t having any regrets, are you?”
I couldn’t blame him for the question, and I should have told the truth. Instead, I said, “No.”
“Then let me adore you.”
His words melted my previously frozen broken heart. I was so moved emotionally, I allowed him to move me physically to the back of the sofa.
“Hang on,” he commanded, as he got to his knees.
He worshipped my body like I was his personal idol, starting by using his mouth in delicious ways.
I made a vow then and there to enjoy our time together, including the best sex of my life.
Our life became morning walks to watch the sun rise, sex, cooking, eating, sex, movies or reading, eating. Rinse and repeat.
One afternoon, we were cuddled on the sofa like we’d been married for years. He was watching TV and I was lying in his lap, reading. It was natural for me to roll over, take out his cock, and suck him off.
It felt freeing, as I giggled even while he pulled me off and carried me to his bedroom. There, we quickly shed our clothes in a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses. Being with him this way, I’d learned to trust that I would come at least twice before it was over.
I’d gotten so lost in the world we created for ourselves, when he moved the next morning I was shocked by the words that came out of his mouth.
When he got out of bed, I clung to his arm.
