Page 41 of Mine

“Oooh!” Phoebe screamed as he plunged inside her core, and her heart knocked against her chest. “Quentin, baby, ah!”

“Shit…” Quentin ground as he drove into her tight walls, trying desperately to keep his grind slow. “This pussy is so fucking tight, girl. Damn.” He took ahold of her mouth simultaneously, swallowing her tongue.

Their skin torched together, and Phoebe’s nails held a ripping grip on his shoulders. His thrusts connected with her G-spot, over and over as he sank to the depths of her bottom in long titanic strokes. Phoebe’s head fell back, tearing from his mouth as a propelling orgasm volleyed through her core. “Oh my God! Quentin!”

Her ears popped, and her muscles clenched, causing Quentin to come with a string of profanity on his tongue. A horse groan fled his throat, and they held on to each other so tight their fingerprints were sure to be branded in their skin. Their elevation had been beautiful, and their descent was just as precise. Quentin pulled her from the wall and carried her down the hallway to his bedroom. Laying down with her clinging to him, Quentin was so tempted to tear Phoebe apart that he almost couldn’t stand it. It would be an absolute blissful undertaking, but he knew she wasn’t ready, and it was important that he take his time with her.

Still buried inside of her cove, Quentin combed his gaze over her face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tenderly cupping her chin again.

“Yes, that was… everything.” Phoebe dug her nose into his neck, and he kissed the side of her face. “Thank you, Quentin.”

“Why are you thanking me, love?”

Phoebe grabbed a handful of his dreads and pulled the locks out of his face.

“For loving me the way you just did. My body is buzzing like I’ve never felt it before. I feel so alive with energy yet lethargic at the same time. How is that possible?”

Quentin grinned and kissed her forehead, her nose, then her lips. “Your body’s sexual awareness has hit its peak. It happened when you came, beloved.”

“Shit…” Phoebe hissed, causing Quentin to chuckle. “I think I want some more.”

Quentin peered down at her. “You think?”

“Yeah, I’m just afraid that my limbs won’t move.”

A wicked grumble fled from Quentin. “I think we can get them going again,” he said, “but for now, you get some rest.”

“Why, you don’t think I can handle it?”

Quentin knew it was in her nature to put up a brave front. But he could sense from the minor trembles that her body needed the time to figure out what just happened before he could take her again.

“Of course, you can, love, of course you can.”

---