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“Hold it, Genevieve. Don’t you fucking dare come yet. Not this fast,” I ordered. A raspy whimper passed through her lips. Her nails dug into my skin as she clung to whatever she could. Daring to test her, I used the hand around her neck to pull her close. I flicked my tongue over one nipple piercing and tugged on it with my teeth. Kissing my way across her chest, I did the same to her other nipple and enjoyed the way she damn near shattered. The vice grip she had on my cock was fucking torture in the best way. “You can let go, princess. Come for me.”
I dragged her mouth to mine, releasing her neck, as she came. She gasped and panted, taking the very breath I offered her.
“Ride my dick, princess.” I bit her lower lip as my hands smoothed over her ribcage. Her hips rolled forward, and I groaned. “That’s my girl. Make yourself come again on my cock, baby girl.”
My hold on her was loose as I appreciated every fucking inch of her. I watched as she bounced on my dick, her head falling back and my name on her lips. Her nails cut into my skin as she chased another orgasm. I ran my hands over her tits and teased her nipples, eliciting a loud gasp from her.
“Ian…” she let out. Her muscles tightened all over again around me. Heat blazed down my spine as she rode me closer to the fucking edge.
“That’s it, princess,” I said, rounding her hips and gripping them tightly. Genevieve grasped my forearms for support. Her pace increased, and her breath came quicker. My heart fucking galloped in my chest as I did my best to not beat her to the finish line. “Make yourself come on my cock, baby girl.”
The vice grip her pussy had on my dick was fucking intense as she came with a loud cry. Her hips stalled, and I thrust up into her hard and fast. I was right fucking there, falling over the edge with her. I pulled her flush with my hips and held her there as I filled her with every drop of cum I had to fucking offer.
“Fuck,” I breathed out.
“Yeah,” Genevieve agreed with a small laugh. She collapsed onto my chest, and I held her tight. Panting, we both didn’t move as we did our best to catch our breath. She traced circles into my skin, and I trailed my fingers down her spine.
“Ten minutes and then we shower,” I said as I kissed the top of her head. “And I’m going fuck you in the shower like I promised I would.”
In the shower, on the sink, against the door. I had a fucking list to check off.
Chapter 97
Killian
Bring back your guitar!” she shouted from the bedroom as I rushed down the stairs in a towel. “I want lunch and a show!”
“Whatever your fucking heart desires, princess,” I called back. On the bottom step, I paused. “Hey, what’s your number for the calendar?”
“Oh…” She said nothing more, and I waited. “Is it bad if I’m happy but crappy?”
I chuckled because I understood that sentiment. The swing of emotions as we worked our way through all this shit was intense—some great, some awful.
“No, baby girl, I’m right there with you,” I told her.
“So… six-point-two-five?”
“Genevieve, how specific is this number system?”
“Six-point-three-five?”
“Woman!” She had me fucking grinning like a fucking idiot.
“Six-point-five! Six-point-five!” I could hear her giggling, and it only made me smile wider. That sound. It did things to my heart—and my dick apparently from the tent growing in my fucking towel. I could listen to her laugh all day and all night.
“That’s fine,” I said. “But I’m sticking with whole numbers. No half numbers and point this or that shit.”
“Fine! If you insist! I’ll go with seven,” Genevieve retorted.
“No, you’re stuck with your six-point-five exactness, princess,” I replied and went to the kitchen. She’d hung the calendar on the fridge for easy access. Just the sight of it made my darkened heart soften. The way this woman fucking loved me was a goddamn national treasure.
Six-point-five for her. Six for me. Happy but crappy. It was better than it could’ve been. Progress was progress and all that shit.
Heavy knocking on the front door made me frown. Who the fuck was so rude to come over unannounced? Maybe it wasn’t rude per se but I liked to know when people were going to show up in my fucking house.
Maybe if we didn’t answer, they’d go away.
But they fucking didn’t. They just kept on fucking knocking until I yanked open the front door, ready to fight an unannounced fucker.
