Page 128 of Snared Rider

It feels good.

Sogood.

He continues to pump his hips back and forth, dragging and pushing his cock against my inner walls. I squeeze around him as he picks up the pace, and while his movements are a little desperate, they’re also controlled.

I can’t stop the moans that escape me as he takes me closer to the edge. I grip his forearms unable to tear my eyes from him. The need, the want, the desire crackles between us and I’m helpless to stop the feelings swarming me.

I love him.

I need him.

And as he moves, I can see the same feelings mirrored back at me in his face.

We come almost simultaneously. Him first, spilling into the condom inside me, as I fall over the edge myself. I cling to him, my nails digging into his arms as my breath rips out of me. He stays over me for a moment before lowering to kiss me. Then he pulls me into his arms.

We lie together, my cheek pressed to his chest as our breathing returns to normal. I can hear his heart beating beneath me, and I find it soothing to listen to its strong rhythm.

Eventually, he says, “I need to take care of the condom.”

He gives my ankle a squeeze as he climbs off the bed and moves to the en-suite bathroom. I lie on the bed, wrung out and sated, my eyes sliding shut of their own volition.

I hear him coming back, feel the mattress depress and feel him next to me. His finger trails down my cheek and I open my eyes.

“You’re so beautiful like this.”

“Like what?”

“Just fucked.” He grins a self-satisfying grin I can’t help but laugh at.

I go onto my elbows so I can kiss him and his hand moves to my breast giving it a gentle squeeze before we pull apart.

“Come, shower with me.”