Page 91 of Over the Line


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I gasp.

“I’m not.”

And then he’s fully on top of me, his mouth dropping to mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hand working me. I just came. My limbs are heavy and aftershocks of pleasure are coursing through my body.

But he has no mercy.

He plunders my mouth and fucks me with his fingers and just when I think I can’t go another second without breath, he breaks the kiss, contorts his body and uses his lips and teeth and tongue on one breast and then the other and—

“Fuck,” I gasp, pussy clamping around his fingers, the orgasm coming so quickly that I’m flying apart before I even realize I’ve ascended the peak.

Even then, though, he doesn’t give me a break.

He just spreads my legs, slowly pulls his fingers free, and then his hips are poised over mine and he’s notched the head of his cock in my pussy and—

I groan, dropping my head back as pleasure fires through me in tiny bursts of sensation as he strokes home—a long, persistent thrust this time, no mercy again as he impales me until he’s balls deep.

That sends a blip of something through my mind, a worry, some distant thought my brain says I should pay attention to.

But I’m in too deep.

The sensation is overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

“God, you feel good,” he rasps with a nip to my throat.

And it’s that little press of his teeth that pulls the pin.

Everything unfurls, explodes open, reality screeches to a halt and…

Then disappears as I break apart again.

I slide back to life with him fucking me hard and fast, his gold and green and brown eyes burning into mine, his muscles taut and standing out in sharp relief.

“Fuck,” he grunts, hips pistoning. “Sofuckingbeautiful.”

And then I get to watch him come.

And it might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Butterflies take flight in my belly.

In my heart.

Because the most beautiful part is what comes next.

He collapses on top of me, his heavy weight almost too much, something I know he’s thinking about because he immediately rolls us to our sides.

And then he takes me in his arms.

And I think that perhaps rushing to move forward isn’t always best.

Because in this moment, with Lake’s arms around me, my body lax with pleasure, smelling his spicy scent, feeling warm and safe and…

Wanted.

I can’t imagine ever wanting anything else.

“What doyou think of this one?” I ask, mischief coursing through me late the next day.

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