Page 22 of Mated to the Pride

He laughed again, soft and sweet. I couldn’t help but smile into my folded arms, as enchanted by his warm company as I was by his magic hands. As his thumbs worked a particularly potent bit of pressure into the small of my back, I couldn’t wait any longer. In fact, I was barely conscious of making a choice as I rolled onto my back and sat up, fixing his eyes with mine.

Stone didn’t speak. I could feel the rise and fall of my chest, and saw his rising and falling in unison. He seemed to be leaning closer, and I felt my shoulders moving towards him too — closing the gap between us in inching movements until my jaw was cradled in his hand, and his nose pressed up against mine.

“You sure about this?” he murmured. “I care about you, Jess. I don’t want to rush you. Don’t want to mess with your head.”

I closed my eyes, tipping my chin towards his for a soft, deliberate kiss. “I’m sure.”

He exhaled, lips hovering close to mine. His thumb brushed over the line of my jaw, careful and eager. “Because I want to, but if you don’t-”

I reached into his lap, smoothing my hand over the front of his sweatpants. Beneath the fabric, I felt the hardening swell of his cock — and moments later, the forceful rush of his kisses. Apparently, there was no more uncertainty left.

He wrapped his arms around my waist as I climbed into the exquisite heat of his lap, rolling my body down against his cock. Here it was happening all over again — this powerful, cosmic force that made me forget any complaints I might have had, and made me desperate for his embrace. As he peppered kisses over my collarbone, fingertips dipping under the thin strap of my cami, I only had the capacity to breathe.

“I wanted you all this time,” he admitted, lips close enough to tickle the skin of my neck as he spread his affection across my body. “Always hoped you’d want me too.” His thumb flicked over the sensitive peak of my nipple, and he kissed up the gasp it drew from my lips. Heat pooled there beneath his touch, and further down between my legs.

“I did want you,” I told him, albeit delayed; I felt the shape of his smile form against my skin, and soon his mouth lifted to mine again for another full, fond kiss. “Idowant you.”

“Lucky us.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me close as I absorbed the flush and fire of his kisses. With Stone, this sexual magnetism didn’t feel quite so wild or frantic; it was a different kind of passion, slower but just as white-hot. Though I wanted every inch of him, and couldn’t help but ride the shape of him in his lap, I didn’t mind that he held me up with kisses for such a long stretch of time. Didn’t mind that it took him what felt like hours to tip me back against the pillows of my bed, and begin to crawl down my body.

He helped me shift off my pants, and took my white cotton panties down with them. When he leaned back down, eyes fixed on my sex like I was some kind of extraordinary work of art, I realized I was holding my breath.

“Thought about this a lot,” he admitted, voice low and husky enough that I believed him. This was the realization of weeks of frustrated dreams for both of us — and now, writhing as I parted my legs a little wider, I gave a shuddering gasp as I felt him press those first few gentle kisses to my stomach — then lower, and less gentle.

He hummed his appreciation, his lips and tongue too occupied with the divine pressure and play on my body. Only after warming me up like this for a long time did he introduce his fingers to my slick entrance, teasing a series of escalating groans from me.

I took tight hold of his spare hand, enjoying the gentle tangle of our fingers as much as the much more intimate strokes of his tongue. “God, Stone…”

“It’s good?” he said, the closeness of his breath had its own incredible sensation — just not quite intense enough. My toes curled, desperate for more.

“It’s incredible.You’reincredible. But aren’t you…?”

“I want to let you come like this first,” he said as though it were a confession, looking up at me under an almost bashful wave of blond hair. My heart skipped a beat. “Then I’ll fill you up. If… that’s what you want.”

He had the luxury of sweet language; I did not. “God, yes. Fuck me.”

Stone grinned, and I felt the spine-melting trace of his tongue over those sensitive nerve endings once again. His movements were quicker now, and more insistent; I felt the regularity of his rhythm begin to lift me up, heart pounding like an animal on the hunt and somehow more and more desperate the more imminent my orgasm seemed. I needed it now, and now, andnow— impatient right up until the moment my toes tensed and my legs tangled around him, crying out and arching up in bliss into the sweet pleasure of his mouth.

“Mmm,” he hummed, slowing his licks and kisses and diverting to less sensitive areas as I slid down from the precipice. “Exactly. Just like that.”

“Stone,fuck.”

“Wow. Impatient,” he teased, deliberately misinterpreting.

I grinned, tugging his hand to summon him closer, and grateful when he understood. I didn’t want to have to expend any more breath on telling him where I wanted him — not when I could be kissing him instead, falling deep into the texture of his affection.

“That was good, huh?”

“Amazing,” I mumbled, winding my hands into his hair. My grip felt weak, and I realized I’d been crumpling the sheets beneath us into balls of fabric in my hands. It was enough just to wrap my arms around his shoulders, feeling a new wonderful pressure as he lay on top of me. “God, god. Yes.”

“Already?”

“Please.”

If he had been expecting me to recover before I had him, then he didn’t know how good he was — hadn’t even guessed it from the way my leg hooked around his, and how I tried to press my hips up into him. He was so hard now that there was no mistaking the shape of him in his sweatpants. When he sat up, I could see the full and clear outline of him straining through the fabric, even before he tugged them down and treated me to the sight of his thick, perfect cock.

“Mmm,” I hummed, words failing me in the moment. He gave himself a few strokes, maybe showing off a little — but with a flushed grin on his face that only made me want him more. “God, please. I want you so bad.”

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