Page 88 of Worth the Wait

“Patrick,” I said with a stutter. “What are you doing?”

“Christening your restaurant.” He reached me, grabbed my shirt, and lifted it over my head before dropping it to the floor.

I took a few steps back in just my bra and put my hands out in some weak attempt at stopping him. “That is not sanitary. We cannot do it in here!”

He cocked his head to the side. “Eh. We can. We’ll just stay out of the kitchen.” His voice was somewhat menacing and shouldn’t have turned me on, but it did. This was another new side to Patrick that I hadn’t been privy to. Each one was better than the last.

“Fine. But if you break it, you buy it,” I pretended to warn, but he only laughed.

“Baby, I already bought it all.”

And before I could argue any more, he was kicking off his work boots and undoing the buttons on his jeans. My eyes flew to his boxer briefs and stayed there for a second too long. I’d let my guard down. Got distracted by the giant tool in his pants.

“Like what you see, baby?”

I refused to respond.

“Where should we do it? On this table?” He put both hands there and pressed up and down real hard, checking the way it would handle the weight of us on it. “Or should I sit in this chair and let you ride me?”

He dropped down in the chair, and I swore I almost started salivating.

He grinned devilishly. “Chair it is.” He’d read my mind.

He stood up for only the amount of time that it took him to pull his briefs off before sitting right back down and staring at me. Then, he reached for his henley and tugged it over his head from the back. That action alone made me wet.

“Get on me,” he directed.

I didn’t need to be asked twice. I toed off my shoes and kicked my pants and thong to the floor. When I reached him, his hands gripped my hip bones as I straddled his body, my legs spread wide on each side of him.

One hand searched for his penis and grabbed ahold of it tightly. Patrick gasped at the contact. I led his dick toward my opening, pressing the tip there before lowering my body and gently moving him inside. I oscillated up and down, making sure there was enough lubrication before taking him fully.

“Oh God,” I moaned as soon as he was all the way inside of my body.

“Fuuuuuck,” Patrick said, dragging out the single word in such a way that it made me feel empowered.

Since I was on top, I felt like I had the control. I gyrated against him, my hips grinding in small circles as I continued to move up and down at the same time. The motion-forced sounds out of Patrick’s mouth made me want to keep doing it and never stop.

“You feel so fucking good,” he said before grabbing the back of my neck and pulling my mouth to his.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was powerful and messy and filled with passion. Our tongues clashed, our lips smashing as I kept moving on top of him with more force. Each time I slammed my pussy down, it felt like he reached a new depth inside of me, hit a different angle, or touched a new place.

It was exhilarating.

“Don’t stop, baby,” Patrick said, his eyes meeting mine, and I felt like mine were rolling in the back of my head.

I kept riding his body, my hips rolling in a way that was going to get me off. He felt so good.

“I’m going to come,” I confessed as I moved even faster against him, the friction building.

“Me too,” he admitted, his breath hot against my chest as he pulled me close.

And we stayed that way as we both came together, at the same time, our hearts racing and beating against our connected skin. Little beads of sweat poured down between my breasts as my thighs quivered.

I was satiated and content. And then the chair started to make a weird sound. Before we even knew what was happening, we were on the floor, with a broken chair splintered behind us. One of the legs had given out, and that was all it needed to not work anymore.

“Are you okay?” Patrick asked, and once I said I was fine, we lost ourselves in a fit of laughter.

“Consider the place officially christened.” I tried to steady my breathing before standing up and getting myself dressed. “Guess we have to throw this in the trash.” I pointed at the broken chair, and Patrick’s jaw dropped open.

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