Page 8 of Overexposed

Thumb on my clit and drawing circles, he dipped two fingers into me. I arched my hips in invitation. I was definitely soakingwet and more than ready for him. After the way he felt in my mouth, I had faith he was going to feel even better inside my cunt.

Smoothing the condom on, I savored the way his pupils looked fatter and blown as he stared down at me. Keeping my legs spread as he worked his fingers in and out, I surged up to meet his teasing thrusts. When he curled his fingers and stroked that spot inside even as he increased the pressure of his thumb, I fought to hold on to the pleasure he drowned me in.

It was a strain. I was almost there and so ready to come, and then he pulled his hand away.

“Fucker,” I swore, as I wrenched my eyes open to meet his laughing gaze.

“Don’t worry, Slick,” he promised, licking his fingers off before he gripped my hips and pulled me down until my thighs were against his chest and his cock lined up with my cunt. “I’ve got you.”

Those were the last three words I heard as he filled me with a thrust of his hips on the last syllable.

“Fuck…” The word exploded out of me as he pulled back and then pushed himself in again. The angle gave him all the control and he kept my legs locked to him as he stared down at me.

Every bump of his hips seemed to impale me harder on him. Whether I was just intimately aware of every inch or just that turned on, I had no idea. But I was here for this. My breasts bobbed as he picked up the pace.

Then the man added a goddamn twist to his hips and he was hitting that spot over and over again. The earlier strain redoubled and a litany of “fucks” fell from my lips as he pursued my orgasm with a kind of relentless fervor that gave no chance for breath.

The bed slammed against the wall and the thump of the headboard to the drywall added a distinctive tempo to hisstrokes. Writhing, I scrabbled at the covers. I wanted to reach for him or touch him, but he had me on my shoulders, half-pinned, as he rocked me.

The orgasm that ripped through me was so loaded, it left me dizzy. And, holy fuck, he was still going. My mouth was open as he added a few more thrusts until he stiffened and came with a hard grunt.

He let my legs go slowly, as he dropped down and then he was draped over me—all hot, sweaty, and panting. Just like me. I swore he still felt hard inside me. I had no idea how long we lay there before he started kissing my shoulder.

Eventually, he sat up and, with care, pulled the rest of the way out. I lay there, uncaring of my sprawled position as he rose on shaky legs.

Smugness floated up inside of me. I’d done that to him. Well, I helped. He’d kind of done most of it. I was far more into participation than I’d gotten that time around. He disappeared into the bathroom. A flush of the toilet and water running in the sink later, he reemerged.

He had a washcloth in his hand. Like the genuine fucking gift he was turning out to be, he paused at my pitcher of margaritas.

“More?”

I sat up. “Oh, yes please.”

More sex? More margaritas?

Yes, the answer was still yes.

He filled the glass and carried it over. Before he handed it to me, he stole another kiss. I downed half the glass before I offered him a drink. He used the cloth to wipe me down.

I made use of the bathroom, half wondering if this was where the fun evening ended. To be fair, I’d definitely gotten more out of it than I’d planned. Returning, I found him sprawled on the bed, stroking himself lazily.

His cock was already semi-hard. Well, that was nice. Definitely a feature.

“Round two?” I teased.

“Yep,” he said, curling his fingers toward me. “Now you get to be on top.”

That had my cunt clenching all over again. “Too bad we only have one more condom.”

“You only have one more,” he said. “I have three in my wallet.”

Eyes closed, I tilted my head back in triumph before I got myself another drink. “That, my good sir, will definitely get you another blow job.”

Who needed sleep?

chapter

four

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