Page 69 of That Reunited Feeling

“Right, now…” he growls, bending over me to leave fast, hot, wet kisses on my thigh en route to his goal—his prize and mine.

And then he’s there, his tongue prizing my flesh apart, searching for the buried treasure of my pulsating, engorged clit.

The wet warmth of his tongue is an electrical surge to my core, to my brain, to my heart, to my very essence as he circles and sucks and brings me to the edge in a handful of seconds.

He shifts onto the seat beside me, feet near the door behind my head. Oh, I see the plan. I also see—as well as I can in almost complete darkness—the most beautiful dick I’ve ever set eyes on in my life, right in my face.

“I do like this plan,” I breathe, taking him in my fist and stroking.

Tom parts me wider, and a gasp flies out of me as a finger circles my slick entrance.

That’s it. I need him. I need him now.

I take him into my mouth and bury him at the back of my throat just as Tom thrusts a finger, then another, as far inside me as he can reach.

As I ride his fingers and his tongue, he rides my mouth. Both at each other’s mercy.

We match each other lap for lap, our tongues, our sucks, beating the same rhythm.

My inner walls clench—he already has me at the point of no return. I bear down harder on his hand, press my clit against his circling tongue.

I suck him harder, massaging his balls with one hand, quickening my strokes on his shaft with the other. He shudders as I run my tongue under the rim, like that’s what does it for him and, good God, I want to do it for him.

For a second he breaks contact with me to groan. “I’m going to come, Hannah. I’m going to come.”

I pop him from my mouth for a second. “Good. That should be part of your plan.”

Then his tongue is back to work, his fingers thrusting in and out of me, hitting the magic spot.

Everything goes misty as I lose myself in the pleasure of his mouth and hands.

Massaging the tip between my tongue and the back of my throat, I suck and stroke his throbbing, jerking dick. Come with me, Tom, come on.

And there he goes. Warm, fresh cum shoots down the back of my throat and tips me over the edge.

Fireworks, stars, galaxies explode behind my eyes, in my brain, and in my heart as we grind against each other’s faces.

This is a whole other level of pleasure. A whole other level of body-shattering, mind-blowing, otherworldly pleasure.

As the thrashing becomes more of a rocking, I slide him from my mouth.

What the hell just happened? Whatever it was, I will remember it for the rest of my life. Not the part about being in the back of the car, or the seat leather sticking to my side, or the way I now realize the hook of my bra is somehow digging into my armpit. But the way it’s possible to give myself entirely to someone, to let go completely, to sink into the pure, uninhibited pleasure Tom wanted so badly to give me. And to give that same pleasure in return.

“You’re amazing,” Tom says, planting soft kisses below my belly button and gently easing his fingers out of me.

“Well, I think we’ve finally found something you’re good at planning,” I tell him, turning flat on my back to wallow in a full-body glow that makes me feel like I’m lying on a sunny Caribbean beach, not on the back seat of a car on a frosty New England evening.

Tom lifts the lid of the console and takes out a box of tissues. “If this is the only thing I’m good at planning, maybe I should stick to just planning this one thing over and over.”

He drops the box next to me as I push myself up to sitting. “Maybe the next one could involve a condom, though.”

I take a tissue and wipe my mouth.

Tom’s phone buzzes in the pocket of his bundled up jeans.

“Whoever that is can fuck right off,” he says, attempting to untangle his boxers from the pile. As he tries to shake them free, the phone falls out and shows the name Desmond.

“Fuck, that’s my managing director,” he says.

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