I force a swallow passed the dryness in my throat and let my gaze be pulled to his face again. “Sit,” I order. He complies.
Bending, I place my hands on his shoulders. I lower my lips to his and he’s waiting. His lips move immediately against mine, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth. He bites gently, hard enough to nearly make me yelp. He releases it, licking the spot he bit and then kissing me with all he has.
His hands are on the backs of my legs again, pulling me into his body. I tug his hair, angling his head back.
“Brynne . . .” he groans through his assault. “For the love of God.”
“Ah,” I moan in his mouth, straddling his leg. I grind my pussy against his leg, dropping my hand to his cock. His breathing is stuttered, his body moving with every breath he takes. He tilts his pelvis, my hand sliding down his cock. I can feel his body tense, as needy as mine.
I drop to my knees and wrap my hand around his length. He’s huge, for sure, but it’s how hard he is that blows my mind. Glancing up at him, I lick my lips seductively. He chuckles in disbelief.
“I’m not sure who I need to thank for you losing your phone,” he grins as I squeeze him from base to tip, “But I’d like to let them know I can never thank them enough.”
I run my tongue along the head of his shaft before sucking the head into my mouth. He pushes more into my mouth, growling.
His hands find my hair as I suck him deeper. My tongue rolls around his cock, massaging it.
I squeeze the base and pull up the length, the solidness making my pussy clench. I run my mouth down and back up him, swirling around the head at the top. Finding a rhythm, my breasts bouncing against his leg, he begins to swell.
Before I know it, he pushes away.
“Hey!” I say, looking up at his face.
Fenton grabs me under my thighs, his biceps flexing under the lights, and lifts me so that I’m sitting on him, my legs extended behind him on either side. We’re face to face, chest to chest, pussy to cock.
He’s pressed against my clit and I undulate my hips so that it rocks against his hardness.
“I wanted to suck you off,” I say, my eyes fluttering closed. The feeling of him against my wetness is incredible, and I work myself against him relentlessly.
“There is no way you’re ever going to make me come without you getting yours first.”
“But—”
He hushes me with a slow, sensual kiss. I feel his hand between my legs and I shift back. Before I can wrap my head around it, prepare for it, his cock slides into me in one long, hard thrust.
“Shit,” I purr. A rush of blood slams into my brain, making everything oversensitive and fuzzy at the same time. He grabs my ass and glides in and out of me, his cock hitting the very back with every exquisite shot.
“Do you like that?” he taunts, his cock coated with my wetness. “Does that feel good to you?”
“Oh. My. Fuck.”
I force my eyes open to see his face. His features are pulled together, a look of complete and utter lust written all over him.
His shoulders move with each movement, his cock swells again inside me. I wrap my hands around the back of his neck, lacing them together, and holding on as he finds a tempo that is a state of nirvana.
The slapping of our skin echoes around the room, the sound of my moans and his growls webbing together to push me over the edge.
I can smell his testosterone. I can taste his desire when he brings his lips to mine again.
It’s all too much.
“Fenton,” I say, my voice riddled with urgency. “I’m . . .” I don’t even get it out. I fall over the edge into a state of unbridled bliss. My body goes off, dozens of lights bursting before my eyes, my legs shaking uncontrollably as my body crashes around him.
My pussy pulses and when he groans, the shock waves start up again. I grind my body against him, digging my pelvic bone into his. The friction is tantamount to sensory overload and I collapse onto his shoulder, completely spent.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I roll onto my back in the giant bed. It’s the first time in a long time I feel completely content. My body hums, satisfied, my mind quiet despite the always-there stresses of life. It’s a feeling I could get used to.
My hair, still wet from the shower I took with Fenton after our rendezvous, is wrapped in a soft white towel. My body is wrapped in another one just like it. The material is soft under my hands, but I prefer the hardness of Fenton’s muscles as I suds up his skin. Washing his body will forever be my happy place.
“Looking at you like what?” he asks.
“Like you are. Like you’re figuring me out or something.”
“Oh, rudo. I’m not figuring you out. I figured you out a long time ago.”
“What’s that mean?” I ask. “You‘ve called me that before.”
“What’s what mean?”
“Rudo?”
He grins and pulls his gaze to the ceiling. “It’s just a word.”
“It’s one I haven’t heard before. Did you, like, make it up one day and decide you want to use it?” I laugh.