Page 50 of Endless Love

TWENTY-THREE

Ryan

Despite how aroused I was, I wanted to take things slowly. Make every second count. As tempting as it was, I didn’t want to jump straight into bed. I wanted to choreograph each move. Make this a production I would never forget.

Kissing her everywhere I could, I removed Willow’s clothing piece by piece, her helping hands and soft moans telling me she was as eager as I was to claim each other. Between heated breaths, she clawed at my T-shirt and worked at the button of my jeans. Tossing her top to the floor, I massaged her perfect breasts before unhooking her lace bra and slipping it off. Her ballerina-pink nipples erect, I sucked and nibbled them, intermittently swirling my tongue around the delicate puckered buds as I slid down her leggings. Kicking off her ballet flats, she stepped out of the stretchy pants. My beautiful ballerina girl was bared to me, her flaming red hair cascading over shoulders like a theater curtain. Not taking my eyes off her, I disrobed like a madman, unable to control my pace. That’s how great my need for her was. My cock was already giving her a standing ovation and was so fucking ready to take her. To dance with her pussy. Lead her to an orgasm. On my next feverish breath, I lifted her into my arms and carried her to the waiting bed.

I set her down, her head on a pillow, and I couldn’t stop staring at her, marveling at her inhumanly beautiful body. Her chest heaved up and down, her full lips quivered, and her waist-long hair fanned out across the bedding. Her porcelain skin shimmered in the glow of the candlelight as did the contours and defined muscles of her taut dancer’s limbs. If I were a painter, I’d paint her. This thing of beauty. This work of art.

“What are you doing, Ryan?” she whispered, her dreamy eyes looking up at me.

“Just looking at you.” It had been so long since I had a woman in bed. If only I could paint her with words. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“I want to make it perfect for you,” she breathed out.

My beautiful ballerina. The pleaser. The perfectionist.

“Bend your knees, my butterfly. Then spread your legs.”

Silently, she did as I asked. I climbed onto the bed, sitting back on my knees between her V’d legs. My eyes lingering on her glistening pink pussy, I ran my hands over her long, lean sculpted limbs, relishing their silky smoothness, feeling every sinewy muscle. Then, I put one hand between them and stroked her soft, delicate folds. I hissed. She was soaked, so slick with wet heat.

Arching her back, she let out a moan.

I continued to caress her, my thumb finding her clit. “My beauty, you’re so fucking wet for me.” My thumb rubbed her sensitive bud, making circles, pressing harder, picking up speed.

“Oh, God,” she spluttered as she bucked against my touch. I could feel her hypersensitive clit harden beneath the pad of my digit. Sexy whimpers filled her throat, the sounds of her arousal growing more and more impassioned. I fucking loved how responsive she was. I hungered for more of her. I wanted to stroke her, touch her, eat her, fuck her. I wanted to own all of her. This was my kingdom. My bed.

Removing my thumb from her clit, I put it to my mouth and sucked it. Fuck. She tasted delicious. So sweet and pure.

“Ryan, please. I need more.”

I fucking loved that she was begging for me.

Hungrily, I splayed my hands on her tight inner thighs and spread her legs further. Keeping my hands in place, I leaned forward and buried my face in her pussy. I inhaled through my nose. Oh, God, she smelled intoxicating. I couldn’t wait to get another taste of her. On my exhale, my tongue darted out and I began to flick and lick her swollen clit. Fuck. So, so good. I wondered—is this what ecstasy tasted like? I’d never done drugs, but if love was a drug, I’m sure it tasted like this incredible woman. I was addicted. I couldn’t get enough of her, and she couldn’t get enough of me. Writhing, she bucked her hips up against me again as an exquisite cry escaped her lips. The only downside of going down on her was that I couldn’t see the expression on her face. Yeah, I could have gazed up, but I didn’t want to stop my ministrations, break this magical spell of pleasure. The insane pleasure I was giving her. The insane pleasure she was giving me as I sucked and kissed her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. So I used my imagination, picturing in my mind the expression of tortured ecstasy on her beautiful face. Her neck arched, her eyes squeezed closed, her lush lips parted allowing her to breathe and moan.

“Oh God, you feel so amazing.”

I was surprised she was able to speak.

“Please don’t stop.”

I wanted to tell her not to worry. But I wasn’t about to stop what I was doing. The wordsmith that I was, I nonetheless knew actions spoke louder than words.

Going at her with my tongue and my mouth, I was going to redefine “amazing.” Give her an orgasm of epic proportions she’d never forget. Never be able to put into words. On her next frantic breath, I plunged a finger into her fiery entrance, without losing oral contact with her clit.

She let out another desperate cry as I began to pump her and suck her dry. Her cries became screams as I brought her to climax.

“Oh my God, Ryan, I’m going to come. Oh, oh, oh…”

Yes, my beautiful ballerina girl, come. Come all over my face. Come!

“OHHHH!” And as if she heard my command, she exploded, her sweet pussy juddering all over my face, her inner thighs trembling, her body quaking.

Slowly, I pulled out my finger and lifted my head, glimpsing her expression as her body went limp. It was one of pure ecstasy.

“Oh, Ryan, that was so, so, so…”

Cutting her short, I put my drenched finger, the one that had been inside her, to her lips, gently hushing her.

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