Page 99 of The Perfect Mistake

“So pretty,” he murmurs.

My breathing speeds up with every lavish touch of his tongue. He dedicates himself to it like there’s no time limit, no goal to reach, just this act to enjoy, and I sink deeper into the comfort of the bed. Waves of pleasure rise through me, each one stronger than the next.

He slides a finger inside me, curling it, and the additional pressure makes me sigh. I push my hand into his hair and tightly grip the short strands.

I didn’t think I could come tonight. I just wanted him to chase out the sad feeling with these warm ones he evokes, and to feel his skin against mine. But an orgasm is growing deep inside me all the same.

I shift to his shoulders, tugging on them. “I want you.”

He looks up at me with hazy eyes. I can feel him assessing me, watching my face for signs of lingering sorrow.

My grip on his shoulder tightens. “Now, Alec.”

His lips curve into a crooked smile, and he pushes up to his knees. He undoes the buckle of his belt.

“All right, sweetheart,” he says. “Shall we practice a bit, too?”

“Practice what?”

He pulls down his zipper. “What is it you want?”

I want to roll my eyes at the question. But his hand is hovering at his pants, thumbs hooked into the waistband, and he’s going to make me say it.

“I want you to fuck me,” I plead on a soft exhale.

A shiver runs through him, and he glides his other hand along my inner thighs, still spread before him. “With what?” he asks, and tugs his pants down. He’s hard and still as large, jutting straight out.

“Just come here,” I say, and grip his cock tightly. I tug him forward, and Alec falls over me, bracing on an elbow beside my head.

He groans at my harsh strokes. “Damn, sweetheart.”

He uses his knee to spread my legs wider apart and lines himself at my entrance. As he pushes in, my back arches at the sweet pressure. God, he’s thick.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against my lips. “That’s my girl.”

My eyes flutter closed at the praise, and another rush of warmth races through me. He starts to roll his hips, and I grip his shoulders, my face pressed against the smooth skin there. He’s slower and more precise than usual, each plunge deep and measured.

I let my legs fall open and tilt my hips up to meet his thrusts. He’s warm and heavy against me, and I love his hooded eyes and heavy breathing.

He grips my calf and pulls it up, and up, and up until he’s nearly split me in half. I hook my arm around the back of my knee to keep the leg raised. He’s avoided my hurt hip, and I love him for it.

His thrusts stutter. “Shit, you’re flexible.”

“Professional hazard.”

Another shudder goes through him and his movements shift, becoming faster, harder. He looks down at where he’s entering me, and with the new angle, it’s easier to see.

“You take me so good, Isa,” he mutters. “Look at that. Look how well I fit inside you.”

With this positioning, he hits against my clit with every stroke, and it pushes me right to the brink. He watches me as my body tightens in anticipation. His right hand cups my face, and his hips speed up.

I come, breaking apart around him and beneath him, tremors racing down my limbs. Alec buries his face against my neck. “Fuck,” he groans. His hips jerk, and then he’s coming too, his back tense beneath my hands, and his hips pushing deeper. I feel him pulse inside me, and then he relaxes, muscles turning loose under my touch.

I lower my leg and lock it around his waist instead. I try to pull him down, to have him rest all of his weight on me, but he resists.

“You won’t crush me,” I murmur.

He gives in, and I’m pressed deliciously into the mattress. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of him, of his warm neck and the hair tickling my cheek. He’s so large, I’m covered entirely by him.

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