Page 47 of Chasing Sarah

My blonde hair falls over my shoulders and down the expansion of my back. Keeping my movements slow, I prowl toward him on all fours. My breasts sway, pulling his stare.

His pants tent as arousal grows in his eyes.

“Fuck,mo réalta,” he rasps, adjusting himself.

When I reach his feet, I sit on my heels, looking up at him through my lashes. I pull my bottom lip into my mouth and cup my breast. My head tips back and a moan falls from my lips when I pinch my nipple between my forefinger and thumb.

“Rhys,” I whisper breathlessly. “Fuck me, please.”

My hand slides down my body and my hips roll when I begin massaging my sensitive clit. It’s already swollen, begging for attention.

“You’re not playing fair,” his scold lacking heat.

The tempo of my strokes intensifies, and my breaths turn into gasps as I near my peak.

Rhys cups my jaw, his thumb pulling my lips from my teeth. Opening, I pull his thumb into my mouth and suck, swirling my tongue around the tip.

He mutters unintelligibly under his breath.

I press two fingers into my slick entrance, fucking my hand until I’m completely delirious. My mouth falls open and a sound between a shriek and a squeal explodes out of me. Wetness floods out of me and onto the laminate flooring, coating my thighs and hand.

Before I can come down from my high, I’m tossed over Rhys’ shoulder, and he rushes down the hallway.

I’m thrown onto my bed, bouncing when I hit the mattress. Hands grip my ankles, jerking me to the edge. He pushes my knees to the sides, fully exposing me to him.

Rhys swiftly frees his cock from its confines. I cry out in ecstasy when he slams into me. His cock stretches me and hits a spot so deep inside, I’m already cresting another orgasm.

My nails dig into his flesh with each powerful thrust of his hips. With each brutal blow his body makes against mine, I feel the bruises forming on the inside of my upper thighs.

He grips my hair, forcing my head to the side. I hiss when he sinks his teeth into my neck. His tongue strokes the raw flesh before he plants a kiss to my skin.

“I could live in this pussy,” He groans, sending another wave of electricity down my spine.

“Fuck, Rhys. Don’t stop. I’m right there,” I pant.

Unlike so many men before, Rhys keeps his tempo, hitting my softened cervix over and over, building the orgasm that will likely send me into orbit. He growls and tightens his hold on my hair, pulling the strands at the root. My walls contract around his rigid length.

“Fuck, Sarah. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he chants.

The pressure in my core becomes too much. “I’m gonna come.”

“Do it. Come for me.”

My back bows, my toes curl in, and I scream. My entire body writhes under him. White light bursts behind my eyelids, my mind goes completely blank.

I’ve heard cervix orgasms were intense but holy. Fucking. Shit. I never expected my entire life to change from one experience.

Rhys’s body tenses, stalling as he fills me with his cum. He growls and I feel the rumble from his chest as it rests against mine.

He slumps onto me, and we lie in a sweaty heap. The sound of our mingled pants fills the air.

“That… was…” I huff.

“Yeah.”

I mourn his loss when he leaves my body. Emptiness is left in its wake, hitting me like a freight train.

Remember the line in the sand?

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