Page 19 of Lynch's Match

Lynch swipes his tongue once, then twice, lapping at my pussy teasingly as he groans. His eyes are on me for all of a moment before he gets down to business. I lose sight of his eyes when he does this, mainly because my back arches off the couch, and my head digs into the cushions.

“Oh God, yes, Lynch . . . oh God . . . what are you doing to me?”

The way he works me with his tongue, the lashing of his tongue, the addition of his fingers, it’s all-consuming. I can’t think. I can’t even breathe. It’s amazingly beautiful, and I don’t want him to stop.

Lynch growls against me and works his tongue faster, fucking me with his fingers vigorously. Within seconds of him doing this, I scream out my release, my body coming entirely off the couch—it’s like an out-of-body experience.

With just his mouth and fingers alone, he gives me more pleasure than I ever knew I could feel. It’s beyond beautiful to the point I don’t think words could fully explain. It makes me wonder what will happen when he gets inside me with his cock.

The last time, as good as it felt, it was nothing like this. To put it mildly, there’s only one way to describe the first time in years, and it was a wham-bam, thank you, ma’am moment mixed with angry, fast fucking. I didn’t take time to enjoy it, neither did he. Afterward, I ran as fast I could from him so there was no repeat.

Not until now.

Time no longer has a meaning, and Lynch keeps his word about what he will do to me with his mouth. He draws three more orgasms out of me. Each time, I’m left crying out from the sheer bliss for more. Pleading with him to give me more. To fuck me. Take me with his cock and drive inside me like only he can do.

Rather than doing that, Lynch moves, gets to his feet, scoops me in his arms, and carries me through the house. His house. A house I absolutely love. He carries me into his room and tosses me onto the bed.

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” he commands while shrugging his cut off.

I do as he says, my eyes locked with his. The only time I lose his eyes is when he yanks his shirt off. When he drops his jeans, my gaze goes down to the cock jutting out in front of him. He’s blessed with a thick and heavily veined cock that looks ready to pound nails. He’s definitely never been small. Granted, I’ve never had anyone else. I’ve seen videos and know, without a doubt, he’s above average in size. My hand can’t even wrap fully around his girth. I lick my lips, wanting to treat him the same as what he gave me, but Lynch seems to have other plans.

Moving over me, he jerks my legs up and over his shoulders, lines himself up with my entrance, and thrusts deep.

“Lynch,” I cry out at the intense pleasure and pain flowing through me.

He pulls back and thrusts, taking me all the way, sinking his cock to the hilt. It feels amazing, and I want him to be rougher. To take me as hard as he wants. I crave for him to take me forcefully, to give me everything, and not hold back.

I open my mouth to beg him for just that when he hitches my legs higher when the fall slightly back in place on his shoulders, grips my hips bruisingly, pulls nearly all the way out, and drills back into me, giving me just what I need.

Three thrusts in, and I’m shaking from the intense orgasm that flows through me. Lynch doesn’t let up and let me bask in the glory. No, he keeps his forceful thrusts going. Sweat beads my body and drips from his. I wrap my arms around his neck to hold on and reach up to nip at his chin. Lynch growls and drops down, still fucking me, but also claims my mouth with his in such a manner it’s like he was fucking my mouth with his tongue.

Long moments later, he groans, and I feel him coming inside me, his cock twitching. Through this, he still keeps going, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he wasn’t going to stop, but he does.

“Fuck, baby, I’ve missed your pussy.” He growls, brushing his lips against mine as we both try to catch out breaths.

The moment is perfect, and I’m going to ignore his comment. I don’t want to think of the number of other women he’s most likely been with. I’m not stupid enough to believe he hasn’t been with other women. We were separated, getting a divorce. I didn’t intend for us to be back together, though the thought hurt. For so long, I thought he’d been the one who cheated on me, except it was the other way around.

I have no right to be hurt by him sleeping with other women. Or even being in a relationship with someone else.

Instead of letting myself think on this for too long, I tighten my arms around him and hold on. I decided for the moment to just let things be. To soak in the moment and think about everything else later when I’m not basking in the aftermath of the experience of having him inside me again.

“You gonna finally talk to me?” Lynch asks, one arm around my waist, the other stroking along my arm laying on his stomach.

He’d taken all of a couple moments before he started up again, taking me three more times before finally letting me pass out. This morning, I woke up with him between my thighs, mouth working me. Then he had me ride him. Talk about one heck of a way to wake up. I enjoyed every minute of it.

Once we’d both found our pleasure in each other, he adjusted us into a cuddling position, the very same one we’re in now, and just held me. No words were needed.

That is until now.

“What am I finally supposed to be talking about?” I whisper, curling deeper into him.

“About the shit that happened with your aunt, your parents will, fuckin’ Ezra, us, you pick.” He gives me a squeeze and kisses the top of my head.

Lifting on an arm, I meet his gaze to see him lying there, eyes alert yet still relaxed and content. “What exactly do you want me to say?” I’m still reeling with all the whiplash of what I’m feeling. Not about Ezra, but everything else.

“I want you to tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours,” he answers, reaching up to cup the side of my face. “I wanna know you’re good. If you’re not, I wanna know that too. ‘Cause I’ve got to make it so you are.”

I close my eyes and let that seep in. All those years ago, he’d been able to make me feel safe and loved whenever things were getting to me. Lynch could easily tell and get me to open up. It’s one of the many things about him that made me fall in love with him.

---