Page 31 of Waiting Game

There’s something going on.

I can feel it. It’s stimulating something in me that’s never been touched before, probably because of how wide he is.

Which is the moment my control shatters.

My hands grab the sheet, ripping and tugging as I whine, “More, Cole. More, please.”

That’s when he thrusts both his tongue and dick into me.

Simultaneously.

Until I can feel him fill me twice over.

The effect is instantaneous—it’s like being zapped with a live wire.

It ricochets through my bones until every part of me experiences the delicious ache.

Then, I realize this can get so much better than it already was—he moves faster.

Faster.

Faster.

Honestly, if any other guy did this, I’d tell him to slow down, but the pressure is delicious.

My nails dig into his spine, dragging along the muscled length, scratching him until they find his ass and encourage him to pump that much harder.

But there’s a ripple effect—my head is shifting ever nearer to the headboard.

Shoving my hands against it to ground myself, I brace as he rides me through an abrupt orgasm.

As I scream out my release, he pulls away, presses my legs together, then rests them against his chest and abs as he practically bounces into me.

I’ve never been fucked like this before, but it takes me higher until the darkness isn’t in the room, it bleeds into my eyes and steals my vision.

I whine and mewl and whimper as I savor how thick he is.

God, he should be tearing me apart, but instead, my body is welcoming him like it was born to take his dick.

I want nothing more than for him to come inside me, but as I let loose a shriek when another orgasm hits, he’s making a retreat, abandoning my pussy to clasp at nothing, leaving me feeling so empty that I sob in despair even as cum pelts my stomach.

The heat of it is intense, and I fight the urge to rub my clit with the mess he made, the lube exactly what I need to take me higher.

I don’t have to though—he does it for me.

His thumb is there and three fingers are back inside me, pumping and thrusting until my spine bows with the intensity and my ruined orgasm is allowed to soar to unearthly heights.

As I sag into the mattress, I find he’s still not done.

Suddenly, his mouth is where I need him. Tender and soft, his tongue slides through my folds, soothing my slit, antagonizing my sensitized clit, and the short, sharp shock of a final orgasm has me sobbing in relief and agony until he draws me back into his arms, tucks me between his legs, and cossets me with the hug that I’ve needed since yesterday morning—one that’s all-encompassing, that smells of us, and that keeps me grounded to this shitty earth.

“Get some sleep,” he orders, his fingers wet as he strokes them down my arm in an attempt to soothe me.

It works.

I fall asleep, unaware there’s the softest curve to my lips as I settle in the safe cocoon of his embrace. An embrace that I never want to leave.

CHAPTER 7

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