Page 79 of Save Me

“But—”

“Are you on birth control?”

I nod.

I could swear his face falls in a mask of disappointment. In less than a second, the expression is gone.

“You’re mine, Kennedy,” he says as the tip of his dick breaches my opening.

The sensations running through me steal my breath and any words I might’ve thought of saying.

“All of you,” he continues while pushing all of the way inside of me.

Despite having been in this position with him twice before, my pussy still needs time to adjust to his size. I can feel myself stretching around him, accommodating his invasion of my most tender spot.

This position, where he has me completely open to him, is even more invasive.

“That’s right, baby,” he says after a few beats. “Open up to me.” He begins stroking me, in and out, in a slow, controlled rhythm. Completely opposite from the night before.

“Let this pussy know who it belongs to.”

His words bring out a moan from me. With my legs now over his shoulders, he reaches out with both hands to cup each one of my breasts.

“Dae,” I pant. The sensations are almost too much.

Yet, he keeps at it. The movement of his hips is slow and controlled. His hands on my breasts, kneading and pinching my nipples.

“I’ll let you come first, baby,” he says.

My body does as he commands, and within seconds, I’m coming. I clench my legs so tightly around his shoulders that I fear I might accidentally strangle him, but Dae never stops stroking me.

Just like last night, I can feel every ridge, every inch, as he pushes in and out. It sets off a secondary orgasm. One that has me legitimately fearing if I’ll ever stop coming.

And then Dae’s coming. Inside of me. Unrestricted.

Something I’ve never let any other man do before.

It’s not until sometime later when Dae’s drying me off after having lathered and washed my entire body before doing the same with himself and then carried me into his bedroom, that I realize I’m in a shitload of trouble with this man.

“I told you, you’ll find out once we get there,” Dae stubbornly says from the driver’s side of his car.

As has become our routine, he’s taking me somewhere, and I’m forced to wait until we arrive to find out our destination.

“Can you give me a hint?” When he glances at me, I wiggle my eyebrows, making him laugh.

My heartbeat quickens from the sound, and I want to find more ways to make him laugh.

“You were terrible to surprise as a kid, weren’t you?”

“How did you know?”

He snorts.

“Yes,” I admit. “By the time we were ten, our parents decided to stop trying to do any surprise parties for us because I would always ask a million and one questions and go digging for information until I found something.”

He shakes his head.

“It pissed Kyle off. He liked surprise parties when we were younger. That is, before he got into his grumpy phase, which started around the time we turned thirteen.”

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