Page 175 of Mr. Wicked

Within a few swipes of the flower, I was coming.

“Grayson!” Tingles shot through my navel and up toward my chest. “Ahhh!”

The shudders came next, moving through my stomach in waves, each one consuming me, sending me further into my orgasm, where I was positive I’d stopped breathing.

I also wasn’t squeezing his hair anymore.

Nor could I hold my legs apart.

I was lost.

Overpowered and overstimulated.

Soaking in every perfect second.

Until his tongue stilled, his fingers pulled out, and my body finally began to come down from its high.

He kissed me, my wetness on his lips. “Tell me how you taste.”

“Grayson—”

“Tell me.”

“God, the things you do to me.” I smiled. “Sweet ... is that what you want to hear?”

He reached around and grabbed my ass. “I’m far from done, baby.”

He was moving me higher on the bed, my head eventually hitting a pillow, my legs spread over his shoulders as he knelt in front of me.

With his tip aimed at my entrance, he ran it up and down, like he was mimicking his tongue, soaking himself with my orgasm. After a few drags, he was sinking inside me.

Inch by inch.

Taking the little breath I had in my lungs and draining it.

“Oh. My. God.” I moaned.

Once again, I reached for the blanket, fisting the fabric, feeling the petals at the same time.

“Goddamn it,” he roared. “You’re so tight and so fucking wet.”

He was diving into me, stroking me with his famous speed and power, his hips turning when he reached the end of me, pulling out to his tip to do it all over.

My nails pierced his hips, urging him to go faster.

Harder.

Deeper.

I needed more—I always needed more.

But that didn’t earn me any of the things I wanted. What it got me instead was Grayson pulling completely out and repositioning us at the side of the bed, where he sat along the edge with his feet on the ground and my legs straddling him.

“Ride me.”

I circled my arms around his neck and lined my lips up to his. “That’s what you want?” I teased his tip, dipping just enough that I took in his crown, so he could feel my tightness, before I hauled myself back and he slipped out. “You want me to ride the cum out of you?”

“Mmm. My wife talking dirty to me. I fucking love it.” His fingers bit my ass. “And yes, that’s what I want.” He was gripping my hips, using his power to drive me down, burying his shaft inside me. “Fuck. Me.” He pulled me forward and back, bucking me over him, giving friction to all sides of his dick.

---