Page 52 of Misery and Ecstasy

No sooner do I get the words out does my free hand fly to my mouth, covering it to try to contain my scream as an orgasm rips through me. I see stars as Draven continues flicking and lapping away at my clit relentlessly. He doesn’t let up until my muscles relax once more, and I feel as though I may fall over.

Finally, he releases me, sitting back on his heels to look up at me. I blush when I see how much the lower half of his face glistens with my arousal covering it. Removing his shirt, he uses it to clean me off of him while I stand here blushing, still flushed from orgasmic exertion.

Slinging the shirt over his shoulder, he stands, towering over me. His stare never falters. It electrifies my veins, holding me steady against the car with just a look. Bringing his arms up, he boxes me in against the driver’s side door.

I think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t.

We don’t need words. Everything we could possibly have to say to one another we can say with our bodies.

Leaning in, he kisses me. It’s sweet, the kind I would normally melt into. But right now, when I’m still buzzing with powerful aftershocks from my release, I require things from him that leave me questioning whether I can still consider myself a lady or not.

Gripping his biceps, I force his hands from the car, giving me room to throw my arms around his neck. The upward motion pulls my body against his, and he grips my ass, instantly understanding what I need from him. Lifting me, my core pulses with need as he carries me to the front of the car.

Laying me on the hood, his hand dives between us and underneath my panties again. His fingers slither inside as he slides his tongue through my lips. I moan into his open mouth as he culls another orgasm from me.

“That’s it, Kins. Come for me. Baptize my car in the nectar of a goddess.”

What the actual fuck?

I should not enjoy that. There were way too many cringey words strung together. If I were with anyone else, I think I would’ve dried up and throat punched the dumb ass.

But in the next breath, I explode around his fingers, squashing any question regarding how his words made me feel.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DRAVEN

In my entire life, I have never uttered anything close to what just came out of my mouth to anyone.

This is what I was worried about in the kitchen earlier… That I would lose control of myself and spit out the most absurd things I’ve ever said. Words that have the power to put an end to one of the best moments of my life.

But then McKinsey comes undone, and I get lost in the glimmer of ecstasy smoldering in her sexy eyes. I slow my movements but don’t stop until I’m certain every last quake of her orgasm has rolled through her.

She closes her eyes as her body goes limp beneath me. Removing my fingers from her pussy, I grip her panties and tug them off of her. Once they’re out of the way, I shed my pants and boxer briefs before nestling my body between her legs. I’m so fucking hard, my pulse spiking at the thought of how it will feel to be balls deep inside her pussy once more.

The tip of my cock barely caresses her opening, and she’s already moaning for me again. Lifting her legs, she digs her heels into my ass and pulls me against her, causing my dick to slide right in.

She gasps as I groan, our lips coming together as I thrust my hips back-and-forth.

Fuck, I’m going to come quick. I would do anything for this to last for a while. I begin to slow my thrusts, but Kins is having none of that.

“Fuck me, Draven. Please.Harder.” Her words come out in harsh exhales as she grinds her heels into my ass in an effort to pull me even farther into her.

I speed up again, wanting to give her everything she wants and needs, even if it kills me, knowing she’ll be leaving sooner. Though I don’t hate the feeling of my balls clenching as I come close to another world-altering orgasm while wrapped up in her delicious heat.

From out of nowhere, we hear a voice, sounding like they’re headed in our direction. We both freeze, our eyes locked onto each other’s as we wait for confirmation that we’re either good to continue or we have to get the fuck out of here fast.

As the voice comes closer, I recognize Saxon’s accent.

“Fuck.”

Pulling out of her, I help her off the car and to her feet. Gathering our clothes as quickly as we can, we run behind Royce’s truck, which provides more cover.

“I told you no’ t’ call me on ’is dog and bone. I can’ send ’he bees and honey ye’. You’ll need to give me a li’l ‘ime.”

He’s on the phone. He’s rattling off in his cockney slang, but he may as well be talking in Mandarin for as much as I understand what he’s saying. It’s even more confusing than it usually is.

Who the hell is he talking to?

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