Page 98 of Hot Shot

“Like this?” I ask breathlessly, unable to mask the challenge in my voice.

His eyes lock between my legs as he approaches, grabbing an ass cheek in each hand to squeeze, spread, stroke.

And then it’s his lips on my lower back as his finger slips into me, then out, soaked and circling my clit.

“On your back,” he orders, but I don’t move until his hand disappears.

Panting, I lay down and he grabs my ankles, dragging me toward him until my ass is on the edge. But he only lets one leg go, turning his attention to the one still in his hand.

“When I woke up this morning, I didn’t think my day would end inside you,” he says, untying my boot and loosening the laces. “I didn’t think I’d taste you on my lips or hear the sound of you coming.” He grabs one heel and pulls, and my boot hits the ground with a heavy thump, the sound nearly as loud as my pulse as I watch him hinge to pick up my other ankle and get to work. “I didn’t think I’d get to lose myself in your pussy, didn’t even once consider I’d hear you say youchanged your mind.”

Off comes the other boot with that deep, solid thump. And I watch hungrily as he kicks off his boots, reaches over his shoulder to grab his shirt and pull it off. When he rids himself of his jeans, he meets my eyes, I feel the thundering of my heart skitter across my skin, the vibration rippling out from deep in my chest.

He forces my legs apart with his, reaches to hook his fingers in the waistband of my tights, and I lift so he can pull them off, slipping them down my legs with tender care.

I can barely breathe. There are no words outside of the words that leave his mouth

“In my wildest dreams, I always have you. But never in my wildest dreams did I think you’d be mine.”

The tender way he says it pricks my nose and the corner of my eyes, squeezing my throat. He’s standing between my knees when he drops to his, hooking the backs and pulling until my ass hangs off the bed. A rough, calloused hand skims the crook of my thigh, then across my hood, where he strokes.

“You take care of everybody, Cass. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.” He’s descending, so close now that the words brush the rippling flesh only a beat before his lips close over my clit.

There’s no time to argue his point or beg him to let me take care of him. Because as he devours me, I slowly come unraveled. Second by second, by lick and by suck, I feel myself let go. Give in. My resolve floats away, and I breathe for the first time, freed by the safety and care of the man who’d been here all this time, waiting for me.

I shift and wriggle against his relentless tongue, the pressure crushing and building and racing toward his lips. But he doesn’t stop, not until I’m moaning and writhing, his head clamped between my thighs, locked tight so he’ll finish what he started. The hot rise of it sizzles against my awareness, eating it up until there’s nothing left but the pleasure and pressure and persistence of my orgasm.

The detonation consumes me as I come in his mouth, all over his lips, against his wicked tongue before he releases my pussy from his hold.

I’m panting, my breasts heaving in the moonlight, and he’s kissing the inside of my thigh, inside my hip, his hands skimming across my ribs toward my back.

“Come here, babe,” he whispers, and my banging heart skips a painful beat. The bed is low enough that when I manage to drag myself upright, I fold him easily into my arms, sliding into his. Our lips and tongues and breaths meet in a slow, hot kiss. The iron heat of his cock brushes my leg, and I hook my legs around his, using the leverage to get closer to it.

He breaks the kiss. Peers into my face with wonder. Brushes my hair from my cheek with a gentle sweep of his hand, his eyes following the motion. Our gazes meet for a silent, still moment, unspoken words hanging between us in the night.

When he kisses me, he says them all, pouring them into me. Deeper, our tongues seek, hard and urgent until we’re breathless and noisy and insistent, his shaft nestled between the lips of my pussy. With a masterful shift, the tip of his cock presses the slick center of me, nudging and nuzzling and teasing until, still on his knees, he pumps his hips, his cock sliding into me.

I break the kiss with a gasp, my mouth hanging open. My jaw rests in his hand, his lips trailing down my neck, but I can’t catch my breath. I am too full of Wilder to breathe, desperately relieved, undeniably urgent, the length of him stretching and pressing and choking me from within.

The memory of this feeling becomes knowledge, a hundred flickering images of the past drawing together to meet right here, right now.

And he hasn’t even moved yet.

His thumb slips into my mouth, and my lids flutter closed as his cock retreats, advancing again with a thrust. Twin moans rumble from our throats. He fucks me slowly, the world glassy and shimmery and far away, and somewhere inside, I’m lost in the drive of his hips, the heat of his lips. I don’t know how long it’s been when he drives into me and stays there, picking me up once secured by his massive arm. I gasp my surprise into his mouth and feel him smile against mine as he turns to sit on the edge of the bed.

His lips brush my collarbone, his cock deep inside me. I rock, hips swaying, and he pulses, constrained by the sheath of my pussy.

“Mmm,” I hum. From my seat in his lap, I can feel every heartbeat, every flutter of his cock. “I feel you throb inside me.”

He growls, nipping my shoulder. “Because you feel so fucking good.”

Another throb, and my pussy flexes in answer. “We should have left the carnival hours ago.”

His quiet chuckle is hot against my skin. My breast filling his hand, he answers by lowering his lips to lave my nipple.

The grind of my hips deepens on their own, needing him more, the feel of him too much, not enough.

“God I love the sounds you make when I fuck you,” he says roughly, lapping and nipping at my nipple again. “This time, I want you breathing in my ear when I make you come.”

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