Page 102 of Perfect (mis)Match

Vincent paused at my hipbone, looking back at me with a devilish grin. “We can make that happen for both of us, you know.”

He stood up and quickly peeled off his clothing, then moved so that he was on his side on the couch next to me with his headnear my feet. It was playful at first as we adjusted, the lightness of the moment making the intimacy that much sweeter.

And then it changed.

The laughter melted into something deeper as I felt the first hot press of his mouth against my slick seam, and a low moan escaped my lips, unbidden. At the same time, I ran my tongue along the length of him, tasting him, feeling the weight of him in my mouth.

It was impossible to focus on the rhythm of drawing his cock in and out of my mouth while he was tonguing my clit so expertly. I kept needing to pause, so I could focus on the delicious sensations flooding my body as he made love to me with his mouth. It was a strange and incredible dance between pleasure and connecting, between giving and taking.

I kept my hand clasped around his dick, gripping tightly as I edged closer and closer to what was going to be a mind-blowing orgasm. Vincent knew how to work my body like a maestro, licking me gently then building up the pressure as his tongue pushed into me.

I squeezed my eyes shut as the world fractured into light and heat. My body arched, the pleasure surging through me in bright, electric pulses I couldn’t contain. I cried out, my fingers curling into Vincent’s skin, desperate for something to hold onto as I shattered apart.

He didn’t let up, his mouth and hands moving with the same focused intensity, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until I was trembling, my breaths coming in ragged bursts. It was too much, too perfect, and I finally had to push him away, my body spent and aching in the best possible way.

“I’m sorry,” I panted.

“What are you sorry about?” Vincent asked incredulously.

“That was the worst excuse for a sixty-nine ever. Call it a thirty-four-point-five.”

“Well, I’ll let you fuck your way to any number you want,” he said as he stood up. “C’mere.”

Vincent pulled me off the couch, then turned to grab a condom from his wallet. I took in his perfect body as he rolled it on. The well-defined chest with a scatter of dark hair, the two perfect cuts at his waist that dipped down, the thick thighs, and of course, the gorgeous cock.

We were still totally exposed if Darcy walked through the door, but I didn’t care. Vincent wrapped one arm around my back and bounced me up into his arms, then walked us to the wall by the kitchen.

“Wait,” I said. “Are you…”

“Screwing you against the wall? Yes. Yes, I am.”

I laughed when he pushed me flush against it. It was ridiculous and impossible, and I loved it.

He pressed his mouth against mine as his hands cupped my breasts, and every thought blurred into one single craving—I needed him, inside me, filling me. I dropped one leg down as we shifted, bodies aligning, and then Vincent was there, pushing deep inside with the most delicious, aching pressure.

I wasn’t even sure how the physics of the whole thing worked, but I was suspended against the wall with Vincent driving into me. I bit my lip as the pressure started building again, but whenVincent dropped his head to take my nipple in his mouth, it all came to a peak.

I threw my head back, unable to hold it in any longer, and let out a shriek of pure, unfiltered pleasure. Moments later, Vincent followed, his release ripping through him as he let out a roar of satisfaction against the curve of my neck.

We came to a gradual stop, laughing, sweaty, and satisfied.

Vincent hugged me close to his body as he started walking toward the bedrooms. “Let me guess, the messy one is yours.”

I giggled. “Maybe.”

He kicked the door all the way open, and he dropped me onto my bed. It was nothing like the opulence Vincent was used to, but the modesty of my little space didn’t seem to bother him.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said as he headed for the bathroom.

He was back in my arms a few minutes later, kissing my forehead, the tip of my nose, my neck.

“I’m so lucky,” he sighed as he nestled even closer to me.

“We’reso lucky,” I corrected him.

We fell asleep that way—entwined, bodies relaxed, hearts finally at ease.

My dreams had never been sweeter.

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