Page 2 of Merry with a Single Dad

His tongue twisted with mine. Tasting myself on his lips, smelling my scent on his skin, fuck, it was such a turn-on.

Chris pressed against me, slicking his cock with my arousal.

He pulled away to look at me. The love in his eyes would break any heart. "Em.” His whisper was an animalistic but tender plea.

"I love you,” I said.

His eyes lit up, and the corners of his mouth lifted. “I love you too, baby.”

Everything was so right. So perfect.

We came together again, a kiss so heart-meltingly sweet, reminding me that even though this was hard and fast fucking during his lunch hour, there was nothing but love between us.

Moaning as his cock pulsed against me—clit, lips, inner thighs, and all—Chris grinned and slowly sank inside.

The deliciousness of being spread wide open elicited another moan.

He pulled away, never losing our connection, and slammed back into me. Every push, pull, thrust, and bang hauled me closer and closer to that blinding, numbing, titillating, ecstatic release.

Chris was a wicked wizard when it came to the magical ways he could make me come. Even the first night, it was as if he had already memorized a map of my body and knew exactly what he needed to do to make me come undone and scream his name.

I’d never felt this way about someone in my life.

I never would again.

I fell so deep.

So deep.

In love.

Our mouths fused together, our bodies united. The little spasms inside got stronger and stronger. Tension and pleasure intertwined, and he knew I was just on the edge.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered before flipping us over.

I clamped onto his shoulders, riding him hard and strong. Grinding against him, my clit throbbed. I pressed harder against him.

He cupped my tits in his hands, rubbing my nipples under his thumbs, squeezing harder and harder. I collapsed onto his chest, my nipples rubbing against his skin as my clit slid against him. Chris grabbed onto my hips, helping me ride him and yanking me forward, pushing me back, pulling again and again until I was crying out into his mouth.

The stars shot across the backs of my eyes, and I seeped more juicy wetness over his cock.

“Keep going, baby,” he said, moving me the same way he was moments before.

And although I was tired and blissfully exhausted, I sped up my pace, repeating the tempo that would get him there.

His growls and groans spurred me on.

He jerked my hips and moved me with the force of a man who was used to hardcore workouts. His strength and endurance astounded me.

I bit and kissed, licked and sucked at his mouth, neck, chest. Ravishing him with my mouth, I squeezed myself around him, harder and harder, coaxing him to the finish line.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled.

I bit down hard and clawed at his chest.

And his delirious pleasure mixed with a pained groan reverberated off the walls in between his moaning my name.

I stopped moving, enjoying the way his dick pulsed deep inside me with each spew of come.

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