Page 150 of Curveball

He crawls on the bed and nibbles, licks, and sucks his way up my body.

“Quincy, please. I want you inside me.”

He closes his eyes. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of you like this. Onourbed. Naked. Spread wide open. Begging for me to fill you again.”

“Stop talking about it. Just do it.”

He smiles. “So impatient.”

“It’s been eight months,” I whine. “Give me everything.”

His hips finally meet mine, nuzzling between my legs. My body begins to tremble in anticipation. But he doesn’t enter me. Not yet.

His lips find mine again for a toe-curling kiss. He begins to slide his cock through me but not into me. His long, hard, veiny cock rubs across my most sensitive region. My body involuntarily jerks each time he passes my clit.

He manages to stay in control, all while devouring me with his tongue. I, on the other hand, am losing it.

He works his way to my ear. “I love watching you lose control. I love how much you need it. Need me. I’m going to bury myself so deep inside you, you’ll be feeling me for days. Tell me how badly you want my cock.”

“So bad. Please.”

I wrap my legs around him and grind my hips. I might come from this. His touch and his words have me so close.

He knows exactly what I need to give me the final push. His hand moves up to my throat. I can feel my eyes flutter.

“Oh god.”

“No, it’s Quincy.”

And then he squeezes my throat, and I come so fucking hard that I practically lose consciousness. Years of longing physically pour out of me.

He’s cursing, probably in shock at how hard I’m coming, but I can’t make out any words because I’m floating in outer space. I don’t know if I screamed or moaned. Probably both. I may have purred for all I know.

He waits until my eyes find their focus again. When they do, he stares into them as he finally begins to enter me. It’s not fast and it’s not slow, but he keeps moving until he’s buried to the hilt. That’s a lot of inches inside me. I feel so full.

This time it’s him who moans. My stomach muscles clench at the intensity of the feeling of having him inside me again after so long.

He laces his fingers through mine and begins long, deep thrusts. I tilt my hips up, wanting every bit of him I can handle.

It feels different from all the other times we’ve been together. We’ve always had great sex, but knowing he loves me is making it so much more intense.

One of his hands moves down and grabs my breast. “These tits. So pink. So full. So perfect.” He sucks a nipple into his mouth, and my back arches.

I love the feel of his hard body rubbing against my soft one as his big body pummels into mine.

Before I realize what’s happening, he flips us over so I’m on top, but he’s sitting up. His movements are slow as hepushes my hair away from my face and mouths, “I love you,” before picking up his pace again.

I may be on top, but I’m not controlling this. I wrap my arms and legs around him and enjoy the ride. I roll my hips, but my dominant man is in full control.

He mumbles into my neck, “Can you feel how perfectly we fit together? How deep you can take me? How deep you need me?”

I breathe, “Yes. Only you. Only you can take me there.”

That seems to embolden him to take things up yet another notch as he pushes as deep inside me as physically possible, hitting the spot he knows well. The spot that only a man like Quincy Abbott can reach.

His hands are on my hips, gripping me, bruising me. I love it.

I bend my head forward and involuntarily bite the space in between his neck and shoulder. His body spasms.

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