Page 55 of Love Takes Home

His fingers don’t stop their glorious torture until every last drop of pleasure has been wrung from my body and I slump against him, no longer able to hold my head up. But I want more.

“When I can feel my legs again,” I roll my head to look at him, “I want to return the favor.”

“Only if you want to.”

“I want to,” I assure him.

I can feel his hard cock on my lower back. The man’s super control boggles my mind, but I’m going to give him the best head he’s ever had. Keeping my promise, as soon as I can feel my legs, I slide down his body until I’m on the blanket facing him instead of away. He adjusts the blanket that was covering me, and I undo his jeans. He assists, raising his hips enough that I can pull them down far enough to release his cock. It bounces against his stomach, looking almost painfully hard, but I know I can make him feel better.

“Fuck! Ginny,” he grunts with the first lick of my tongue against his sensitive flesh. I run my tongue from root to tip, licking up the salty bead of pre-cum, the tangy flavor hitting my tastebuds and making me crave more.

With one hand cupping his balls and the other circling his shaft, I lower my mouth over his cock, getting wet at the sounds he’s making. I close my lips around him and suck. My mouth hitting my fisted hand and working him over fully. I’m just getting into a groove when he pulls me off and flips me over to my back.

“Enough,” he growls, pulling my jeans and panties down my legs. “You’re too fucking good at that.”

With my jeans completely off one leg and pushed down to my knee on the other, he spreads my thighs and runs the tip of his cock through my folds.

“This isn’t going to be gentle, Beautiful. Need you too bad.”

I lift my hips in offering to him, and he takes it, thrusting inside me in one long stroke. He gives me only a few seconds to adjust to the intrusion before he’s using my own wetness in his favor to slide in and out of my pussy. He hikes one leg up overhis hip to change the angle, and when he does, I moan as my eyes close without my permission. He’s hitting that spot. The one that makes magic things happen to my body.

With no warning, my orgasm rips through me, and I open my mouth, but only a silent scream comes out. I feel the flood of my release, and it only turns him on more. I can feel him growing harder inside of me, my walls clamping down, trying to hold him to me.

“Gonna come again for me. Understand?”

With no pause, my orgasm continues on and on, the waves of pleasure taking me by surprise. When he grips my hips and rolls, I gasp, but I’m now on top, riding him. My hands land on his chest, and I use the leverage to change the angle again.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans, his head thrown back, his hands gripping my hips hard enough there might be marks. “Touch yourself. You’re going to fucking come again.”

With no hesitancy, I remove a hand from his chest and drag my fingers down his stomach until they are at the place our bodies are connected. His eyes are laser focused on my hand, and I lean back on his lifted knees to give him a better view. I split my fingers in two around his cock.

“Shit,” he curses. “Fuck.”

When they’ve gathered up my own wetness, I move them to my clit and apply pressure. Small circles. My hand is barely moving, but I feel it everywhere. I look at his face, his eyes hooded, his cheeks flushed, and his bottom lip between his teeth. Just watching him could make me come again.

“Harrison,” I whisper as the first ripples of another orgasm happen.

“Yes, Beautiful. Now. I need you to do it now. And milk my cock dry.”

He starts to pump up into me harder, and my fingers apply more pressure to my clit.

This is it. I’m lost to all the sensations. I close my eyes as fireworks explode behind my eyelids, and I groan his name. I feel him stiffen under me and open my eyes just in time to see his close as the pleasure takes him. I feel his release before I slump onto his chest, both of us breathing hard.

“Thank you,” he says into my hair, kissing the top of my head. “Thank you.”

I have no idea what he’s thanking me for. He’s the one that just gave me three orgasms, I feel like I should be thanking him. But I’m too spent to speak or move right now, so we stay like that, still connected, his hands lazily rubbing the tops of my thighs to my hips, like he still can’t bear to not be touching me. If we could stay like this forever, I think I’d be okay with that.

When we’ve cleaned up and readjusted our clothes, we’re back on the blanket. Joker’s on his back and I’m curled up on his arm, my leg tangled with his.

“Tell me about the moving-out hunt,” he asks after we’ve laid there quietly for a few minutes.

“Mom doesn’t want me to go, Dad wants me to do what I need to do, and there’s nothing available in my price range that isn’t right next door to where I was.”

“You can’t move back there.”

“Are you commiserating or telling me?” I lift my head to look at him, my brow raised.

He smirks, no remorse at all. “How about speaking my inner thoughts out loud? And you’d feel guilty if I went to jail for killing that no good fucker.”

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