Page 381 of Steamy Ever After

I give a little yelp when he pinches down, holding my poor tortured nipple between his thumb and forefinger. With that pinch of pain, more pleasure courses through me as his other hand, and those talented fingers, work me to a frenzy.

Drake ravishes my pussy, shoving in deep with his fingers, drawing out slow, curling and pressing until he finds that spot. A jolt of sensation rocks through me with each determined stroke.

If this is what his fingers feel like, what will it be like when it’s his cock instead of his fingers?

Inquiring minds want to know, but not so much as to ask him to stop what he’s doing. I’ve had sex before, but this is unlike anything I’ve experienced.

My toes curl as his fingers massage and torment. Sensuous heat spreads outward from my core, raw, relentless, and inevitable. A whimper escapes me as pleasure coils and tightens. Getting tighter and tighter as my entire body ignites.

“Drake … I’m going to …”

Like a spring releasing its energy all at once, pleasure explodes within me. I cry out and dig my fingernails into a death grip I have on his hair.

My body bucks as his fingers continue their relentless assault until I’m hoarse from my screams and dizzy from the wave of pleasure drowning out all other sensation. My entire body shakes from head to toe as sensual, sexual heat consumes me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

I breathe heavily as the determined motion of his fingers subsides. My entire body, muscles and bones, liquefy in a languid state of being. It’s the first time in my life where sex leaves me a moaning puddle of quivering flesh.

Drake slowly withdraws his fingers while I curl against him, chest heaving, body quaking, blissfully satisfied for the first time ever in my life.

Who knew an orgasm could feel that good? Those paltry things I’ve felt before hold nothing to the deft skill of the man who played my body like a virtuoso.

“You going to be all right?” Drake runs his fingers through my hair, gathering it to hang down my back. His lips feather across my shoulder in reverent worship.

“That was …” I huff and puff, still catching my breath.

We’re close. He smells amazing, bold and powerful, dark and seductive. I wrap my arms around his neck and curl into him.

Drake looks at me with smoldering lust filling his gaze. I take him in, memorizing every detail from the slanted scar marring the perfection of his face, to the rigid muscles twining up his neck. His entire body vibrates with need.

“Yes, luv?”

“Incredible,” I say the word with a sigh of contentment. “Simply incredible.”

“If you thought that was incredible, wait until I slide inside you. I’m looking forward to this, city girl.”

“Did you bring …”

“Protection?” His brow arches with amusement. “You bet, but we’re not ready for that just yet.”

Not ready?

CHEMISTRY

Drake nuzzles my neck and gently cups my breast. “You’re gorgeous when you come.” The roughness of his thumb grazes against my tender nipple, sending a jolt of electricity to my core. “So fucking sexy.”

I look away, shy and a bit awkward. Talking about sex isn’t really my thing. His thumb rubs against my nipple, slowly rolling it back and forth. When I reach for the fly of his pants, Drake draws back.

“Oh, luv, we’ll get to that.” With an authoritative hand, he pushes me back.

Not sure what he’s doing, I resist. This is the point when he’s supposed to strip, put on a condom, and fuck me.

Drake increases the pressure on my chest as my brows pinch together with confusion.

“Stop,” he says, more authoritative, more demanding.

Totally sexy.

I love a man who knows what he wants. It’s a major turn on. The ones who bumble about—my ex comes to mind—ruin the mood.

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