Page 9 of Time Out

“Can I?” I curled my fingers around the edges of that frail fabric.

She lifted her hips, and I pulled them down slowly, anxious to be inside of her, still wanting to torture her.

It’d be fair play.

She’d been torturing me since the moment she walked through that door tonight.

She was shaved bare beneath her thong, and as I slowly tugged it down her thick, gorgeous fucking thighs, a shiver rolled through her. Her fingernails were white-tipped and I groaned as she pressed them to her clit, through her slit, and then made two circles as I finally slid her thong off her and it joined her shorts on the floor.

“What do you like? Hard and fast? Slow?”

“This. You right here, watching me.”

Ahhh… an exhibitionist. I’d keep that in my pocket for later.

Except no. That wouldn’t happen. Before I’d brought her here, I’d made it clear.

Tonight was for tonight. One night only. I had too much going on to be capable of more.

I’d been honest and gentle. Reminded her that I had no expectations. The drinks I bought and the plate of nachos we ended up sharing did not mean she owed me anything.

Except she’d agreed, finishing her last beer and licking her lips. “That’s good. I agree. I have too much to figure out myself.”

Later wouldn’t come. That was okay. Perfect, even.

Except now that her cute little moans were filling my ears and her hips were rolling, making her breasts tremble, there wouldn’t be nearly enough time for me to explore this body in all the ways I’d already dreamed of.

“That’s enough,” I said and my hand covered her fingers. “Let me see.”

“Davis…”

“Shhh.” I brought her fingers to my mouth, enthralled with the pink blooming on her cheeks and the gasps from her parted lips made as I wrapped my own lips around her fingers, and holy sweet divine.

“Not cherries,” I whispered and bent down to kiss her to see if she’d be willing to taste herself. “Perfection.”

My tongue slid into her mouth, wrapped with hers and her thighs pushed apart, allowing room for me between them. Her body melded to mine, hips rolled to meet me.

As I began to lose myself in her, relieving her of her bra and bringing my mouth to her pert, firm, and full breasts, I regretted my hasty decision.

One night wouldn’t be enough.

She was too damn delicious.

The sun was rising over the horizon, and I hadn’t spent a single minute with my hands not on some part of Maggie’s body in hours.

And the things I’d learned about her. The shy hesitation she showed when I went down on her the first time. The way she screamed as she came and then asked me to do it again. We’d rested only for water and it was during our last break, Maggie sitting naked on my kitchen counter, me standing between her legs and swirling my tongue around her nipples in between sips of water when she’d tilted her head toward my private pool on the rooftop patio.

“Can we go for a swim?”

We didn’t make it to the pool. I’d carried her out to the hot tub and sat her down on my hardening dick.

The thing should have been broken by now, useless, except every touch from Maggie had turned me into a machine needing minimal recovery time in between rounds.

Water splashed around us, the bubbles from the hot tub only allowing the tips of her nipples to appear above the water before sinking back down, and her breasts were as perfect as I’d first thought. Round, firm, and full, I could use them for pillows and never sleep better.

“That’s it. Nice and slow, Maggie.”

She had her hands at my shoulder, riding my dick—finally—and with the sun rising behind me, the glow made every inch of her skin glisten, her eyes, cornflower blue, closed, and she dropped her head down as if she wanted to see me filling her.

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