Page 89 of Four Times Taken

He looked down at himself. "I don't know, I think jeans offer solid sun protection."

"I think you're wrong about that," I interrupted, and he laughed, finding it difficult to control himself.

"Well, I think I'll entrust myself to your expert hands."

"Yup. That's the correct answer." I nodded, taking his hand and moving toward the door.

"Although, I have been hot and sweaty. Maybe a shower would be a better idea." He glanced ahead of me, but as soon as I closed the door, I locked eyes with him.

"Didn't I tell you I like it dirty?" My shirt came off over my head.

His eyes glinted with wicked delight, and he worked to unbutton his pants. "You might have mentioned it somewhere."

Showing him how much I meant it when I said I liked it dirty, I got down on my knees and took him in my mouth, savoring the saltiness of him.

"Mm. Lily," he bit out as I took his longer and wider cock into my throat. "Shit," he wheezed. I looked up into his wide eyes, pride encouraging my mouth's pursuit of his pleasure. His head fell back, and he grasped at the bare walls, biting his lip and trying not to bust. Popping my mouth up for air, I turned my wet tongue on his balls, and he lost his damn mind. Swearing, he joined me on the floor, grabbing the waist of my shorts and finding my breasts with his mouth. He sucked and kissed and tugged on the waist of my shorts, pulling them up and giving me a pussy wedgie.

As he sucked the ever-living shit out of my nipples until they're swollen and hard in his mouth, he maintained a constant and rough tugging against my shorts until my throbbing clit was on fire. When I whined in distress, he got behind me and almost ripped the damn shorts as he pulled them over my hips. I'm panting and ready for anything when his mouth found my pussy, soothing and dizzying me with his tongue.

"Yes." The word vibrated on its way out of me, and I let my head drop into the palms of my hands. He's ferocious, grunting and groaning, slapping my ass and moving my hips against his face. My body crumbled against his hungry mouth, and he pulled me backward against his lap.

"I keep forgetting I have you all to myself," he said. "I don't have to rush, do I?" he whispered against my neck.

Rolling my head back against his shoulders, I responded as he brought my attention to the silence of the house and the intimacy of the two of us alone together. "No." I smiled.

"Good." He spread his legs and pulled me closer until his erection was resting against my back. Then he spread my legs and reached down to finger my clit while kissing me from the side. "Mmmm." We both moaned against each other's lips. "We should do this more often," he said.

"Yeah-uh," I whined.

He whispered his love for me as I vibrated around his skillful fingers. There were no limits to the orgasms he brought me as his other hand played a double role, to massage one breast in particular, squeezing both hard and soft tissue, crushing the nipple against the palm of his hand until my breast was sore from the attention, and to keep my body from running away with me.

"Ready for me?" he asked.

"So damn ready," I wept.

"Turn around," he whispered a subtle command, and my heart pounded harder than before. I'm quick in my movements, doing as I'm told. "Get on top," he whispered against my lips, and my hole readied itself for him.

"Do I sense a little dominance coming from you?" I spoke against his lips as I straddled him.

"Do you like it?" he asked, kissing my neck.

"I think I do," I moaned.

He smiled against my skin. "Good."

"Only in the bedroom," I clarified.

He grinned before pulling me hard against his manhood.

"Ethan," I moaned when he slipped inside me. We no longer had any time for words, only action. We didn't break eye contact in this position or the next when he got on top and pushed deeper into me, or even when he remained inside me and rolled us on the side, so that our legs were wrapped around each other and his arms were holding me close. "Ethan." His name fell from my lips whenever he hit the g-spot or as I watched the hunger darken his eyes and cause tension in his facial muscles. As he wrestled with his self-control or as love bloomed in his gaze.

"Lily," he groaned my name when he's close to the edge, and I could see the restraint he exercised, when he pulled himself back from the edge, prolonging our intimacy, our pleasure. When we finally burst together, we're spent. We spent the next few minutes or hours, (who knew at this point) still wrapped in each other's arms, kissing and tracing each other's features, before rolling onto our backs, unmotivated to leave the floor and this state of utter contentment.

We lay there for a moment, heads facing the ceiling, eyes closed as our breaths returned to normal, and when we faced each other again, we exchanged glances filled with the shared knowledge that we should make plans to get our asses off the ground. Instead, we couldn't help but gaze at each other.

"Have you given any more thought to us moving in together?" he spoke first.

I smiled. "You're getting tired of this house too, aren't you?"

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