Page 30 of Sexting Mr. CEO

She slides away from me. For an insane second, I think I'm going to explode, that I'm going to be a one-stroke joke. I've never felt anything like this, the pure passion combined with white-hot pleasure, every inch of my manhood enveloped in her warmth.

I push back into her, savoring her pleasure, knowing there's no damn way I'm going to finish until I've felt her pulsing around my dick. She arches her hips, grinding in time with me. The whole time, I keep my arm wrapped around her, stubbornly maintaining our closeness.

We glide into a rhythm, our bodies moving as one. Her pussy envelops me tightly, caressing with each stroke. Her breasts keep my hands occupied as I massage them hungrily. I become addicted to the silky smoothness of her neck beneath my lips. But somehow, her moans remain the sweetest part—those delicious sounds of release.

"Come," I command, just like the silver-haired hero from her novel. "Come, come,come. Now."

When I saynow, her moans transform, becoming more urgent. She rocks against me with greater intensity, then her inner walls squeeze my shaft rhythmically, as if inviting me to share in her pleasure.

I feel the orgasm rippling through her as she surrenders, her body calling out to mine. I thrust harder, growling when her pussy makes those delicious wet sounds. Once her climax subsides, I withdraw, stroking myself as I step back.

"Don't forget how this ends," I snarl. "On your knees – push your tits together. You're my heroine, Sparkplug."

She turns quickly, breathless as she follows my command—the same thing her hero demanded in her book. I groan, my spinetingling as my orgasm rushes toward me. I stroke myself rapidly, aiming at the valley between her breasts. Fuck, this is her fantasy, but now damn if she doesn’t look beautiful on her knees for me. Soon I can’t hold off anymore as a rush of ecstasy flow through me. She gasps as hot streams of come erupt from me, landing on her chest, white droplets sliding down her beautiful skin.

Our eyes meet and we both smile. She stands, breathing hard as she looks around. "In the book, the scene ended there. They didn't cover the heroine cleaning herself up."

She laughs, sounding intoxicated. I know the feeling. We're high on each other.

"That's a fair point," I say, chuckling. "Good thing I knew this might get messy…"

Reaching under the seat, I produce a bag with towels and cleaning wipes. She laughs, nudging me playfully. "See? This is how you know we're certified nerds. We come prepared."

I grin. After cleaning up and getting dressed, we head back outside. I loop my arm around her waist as I guide her to the table. I pour champagne for both of us, then raise a toast.

"To turning your scene into a reality."

"But you didn't," she says.

"It wasn't the same?" I ask.

"Like so many other readers, I've been obsessed with that scene… But when you touched me, and when I felt you, oh Luke, it was so much better than I ever imagined it could be."

"You had me worried for a second there, Sparkplug."

"Worried? Are you kidding? That was heaven. That makes the wait worth it."

"It's been so long for me. I thought I was going to be a one-stroke joke for a second there."

She giggles. "Awhat?"

"You heard me. When I slid inside you, I thought I was going to explode. I've never felt anything like that."

"What you're saying is… even if it wasn't the first time for either of us, it sort of was?"

"Yes," I say fiercely. "That was the best experience I've ever had. By far. Focusing on work for the rest of the day – and night – is going to be impossible now."

"But you've got the speech tomorrow," she says.

I nod. "We should get going soon." I take her hand. "But I want to stay here a while longer, just me and you and the canyon below us. I want to imagine what it'd be like if we could always be together."

She swallows. "Luke…"

"I know." I sigh. "Long distance is asking for trouble, for pain, for drama… But the more time I spend with you, the more certain I become that long distance with you would be better than proximity with anybody else."

"That's sweet," she says softly. "But I've seen it. One of my coworkers was in a long-distance relationship."

"What's the alternative?" I grumble. "Go home – pretend this never happened? Pretend we never met? Forget about this, about us?"

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