Page 29 of Waiting Game

“If you wake up, you can wake me too.”

“With your dick in my mouth?”

Cole Jr. twitches as she nuzzles into my side. “Yeah.”

CHAPTER 6

MIA

When my eyes pop open,it’s four AM. The light from my clock is inordinately bright but that’s not what woke me up.

A shudder rushes through me when I feel a thumb strumming my clit.

I’ve rarely shared this particular preference of mine with any of my partners in the past, but in this day and age, a guy who’ll cross Manhattan for a hookup is a rarity. Getting him to comefrom New Jersey, bring pizza, not expect sex, and talk aboutStar Warsand death before falling asleep? Unique.

I almost wish I were in the market of finding myself a man because this one might be a keeper.

I don’t have time for my thoughts to run away from me—that thumb is doing wicked things to my clit and I immediately spread my legs in welcome.

“Fuck, that feels good.” I whimper, enjoying how there’s a tentative nature to his touch like he’s waiting for me to stop him. But all I can do is appreciate the mastery of his fingering skills.

Oooh, boy, he wasn’t wrong about having game.

My heels dig into the mattress as I buck my hips into his hand, enjoying how he isn’t rushing, taking the time to get me where I need to be.

His generosity doesn’t come as much of a surprise when I think about how he’s passed the night with me on his mind.

A finger slips around my slit, then he thrusts it into me. A quick dip is all I get before he retreats, and another is right where I need it. A third comes next, followed by a fourth.

The stretch is exquisite.

The burn is needed.

I cry out as he starts to finger fuck me while grinding the butt of his wrist against my clit.

As I come, with the shadowy tendrils of release bringing a relief in pressure with them, I sag into the mattress, only to find that, as I sink deeper into the softness beneath me, he’s pulling me half onto his side.

When he draws my leg over his waist, I arch my back and grab his wrist. I can’t stop myself from maneuvering his fingers so that I can suck one between my lips.

At his groan, I twirl my tongue around the length, tasting myself even as I’m focused on his pleasure.

“You don’t have to,” he assures me.

No, I don’t.

I hum at the taste of him and me together and give his digit an extra suck.

Reaching between us with my other hand, I shape the bulge in his boxer briefs. Finding the fly, I let my fingertips rub circles on his dick before I pull him through it.

He’s thick.

God, I love that.

Give me that over length any day of the week, though, admittedly, he’s big in that regard too.

When I grip him, my fingers don’t close around his girth, and I know that’s why he shoved four of his own into me: because he’s thicker than that.

Salivating at the thought, I kick my leg higher so I can straddle him.

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