Page 48 of The Naughty Elf

But he doesn’t let me shift to take him. Instead, his hand buries itself between my thighs. The soap clears with a few ministrations, and his fingers dive into me. It’s an easy slide. One finger. Then two.

A cry falls from my mouth before I can stop it, and Sawyer’s wet hand lifts to cover my mouth.

Yes. Yes, I have to be quiet. But,yes.

Pleasure pumps into me with his every thrust, so I divert myself, pulling one of his fingers into my mouth to suck on it.

“Fuck.” His voice is low and husky and so ungodly sexy that I clamp down on him. “When you’re clean and mostly dry. I’m going to devour you.”

Thank God his finger is in my mouth because the noise that gurgles out of me is beastly. I’m on the verge of an orgasm already. Who knew those dirty words were waiting behind Sawyer’s silences?

I wish I could delve into his brain and uncover every naughty thought.

But my reality starts to warp as he winds my pleasure into a hazy explosion.

I flutter back to myself, gripping his forearms hard. “Fuck me, Shakespeare.”

His soft laugh puffs against the back of my neck. I lean back enough to catch the head of his cock in my sensitive folds and slip him a few inches inside of me.

Sawyer’s grip turns rock solid, and he guides me back, meeting me in the middle so that I’m so gloriously full of him.

It doesn’t take long for his hips to start pumping, the water enhancing the smacking noises of his hips against my ass. I’m far too lost to the pleasure. Sawyer keeps me upright, angled just right to take the full swing of each of his thrusts.

It’s like his cock is hollowing me out for something bigger. Stronger. More.

My knees wobble, and the extra inch I sink down over him guides him to the perfect spot. My core is quaking. I’m going to explode. Any stroke could detonate me.

The moment that pulsing pleasure takes me, Sawyer arches me back, holding me in place as he roots against the ends of me until I can’t breathe from the overload.

Slowly, he settles behind me, stroking my muscles until they regain the strength to hold me up on their own. His cock slips free, but the gush of warmth that follows is completely me.

I reach back to wrap my hand around his throbbing cock—still so unbelievably hard.

Is it the extra few years he has on me that keeps him from coming when I do? Fuck, before I do? If I’d known older men could perform like this, I’d never have messed with the boys I slept with.

I stifle my laugh as he grabs my shampoo and pours some in his palm. He doesn’t rush through washing my hair, his cockpoking and sliding over me through the entire process like an afterthought.

Once I’m washed and he’s combed through my hair, we dry each other off.

Sawyer makes good on his promise, carrying me to my bed and spreading me out like a buffet. His mouth is everywhere, suckling, kissing, biting, until his face is buried between my thighs, and I have to cover my face with a pillow to quiet my moans.

He sends me over the edge twice more before he prowls back up my body like a predator.

Four orgasms, and he hasn’t even come once.

So when he pushes himself back into my core, I make it my mission to break him.

I get the joy of watching him this time, seeing the pleasure soften his features as he builds a slow rhythm.

We glide together, and everything is so slick and hot that we both glisten in the low light streaming around the curtains. Drawing my knees up his sides has him lowering his body over mine, nestling closer.

I rotate and undulate my hips under him until I earn a few small grunts. They puff in my ear as he smooths my wet hair away.

A new angle has me gasping for breath, and we both lean into it. God, he’s so in tune with my body, my breath, my needs.

His own breathing rushes in my ear, and I know I’ve caught him. “Fuck. The way you feel…”

Sawyer’s voice is like a blade cutting the strings I’m using to hold myself together. I’m throbbing around him, pulsing, coming so hard that I can’t maintain my grasp on reality.

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