Page 74 of Wistful Whispers
“Fuck, Marcella. Your tits are incredible.” His hand snakes up to cup my breast. “So full and soft. I could spend hours worshiping them.”
How am I supposed to resist? I can’t. Don’t want to.
Seamus rolls me on my back and sucks a nipple into his hot mouth, flicking the tip with his tongue until I'm writhing and whimpering. He laves each of my breasts thoroughly, biting gently on the full curves before moving down my rounded belly, dipping his tongue into my navel.
He runs a finger through my slick folds and curses under his breath. “Your pussy is so goddamn pretty,” he growls, parting me with his thumbs. “Look at you, dripping for me. I need to taste your honey.”
Seamus doesn’t seem to care it’s morning, we’re barely awake, and I’m—funky. We’ve been at it all night without showering. Yet, he buries his face between my thighs, lapping at me with enthusiasm. The first swipe of his tongue through my center has us both moaning. He explores every inch of my dripping heat, swirling his tongue on my clit every now and then.
He slides two fingers inside, pumping them deep and slow, curling to rub my G-spot, matching his gentle sucks to his thrusting fingers, quickly pushing me toward the edge. Pleasure crashes over me in a blinding rush. I cry out his name and Seamus laps at me through the tremors, like he can't get enough of my—our—taste.
When he’s had his fill, Seamus pushes himself up to kneeling. I take in his ripped body—broad pecs, tight abs, thick thighs—and his cock flushed dark with arousal.
I slide my hands up his thighs as I glance up at him, heat curling low in my belly. “Come here.”
His eyes flare and without hesitation, he shifts forward, straddling my shoulders as if he’s wanted this as badly. The sheer trust in his eyes as he looks down at me steals the breath from my lungs. Wrapping my fist around his impressive girth, I pump up and down his length. He thrusts into my hand, groaning. Leaning in, I suck on his crown, probing the slit with the tip of my tongue.
“Yessss, Marcella.” He tangles his fingers in my hair. “Suck me. Hard. Let me fuck your mouth a little.”
God, yes. I widen my lips around his thick cock, taking him deep. He's velvet-soft on my tongue. Searing hot. I slide up and down his length, relishing the silky skin stretched over stiff flesh. Hollowing my cheeks, I suck him with filthy abandon.
“Ahfuck,” he grunts, thrusting shallowly into my mouth. “I love seeing those pretty lips around my dick. You have no idea.”
I moan around his girth and allow him to push against the back of my throat.
“Ohhhhh, shit. Marcella—baby, I’m gonna come,” he warns, trying to pull back. I clamp my hands on his ass, holding him deep. I want to taste him. With a harsh groan, he erupts, shooting thick, salty cream into my mouth. I swallow him down greedily, coaxing every last drop.
He shudders through the aftershocks, stroking my hair. “Incredible.” He pulls me up for a searing kiss.
We collapse back onto the bed, breathless and slick with sweat. I barely have time to relax before I feel him hardening against my thigh again. The thing about being with someone in their late twenties—or maybe it’s just Seamus—recovery time seems to be more of a suggestion than a requirement.
“Baby.” He caresses my cheek. “Can we try something? I want to watch you ride me in front of your full-length mirror. See your tits sway and your curves jiggle when I’m inside of you. Let me show you how goddamn sexy you are.”
I bite my lip, heat rushing to my cheeks before I can stop the words. “It will turn you on?”
“Feel my cock drilling into your thigh? How hard you make me?” His cups my chin, thumb brushing over my flushed cheek. “I’ve never wanted to see anything more.”
Without waiting for my answer, Seamus sits up and scoots against the headboard with his legs extended out in front of him and helps me straddle his hips, my back to his front. He shifts slightly beneath me, his hands prying my thighs apart. He spreads them wide until his cock rests between my pussy lips—thick and pulsing.
In the mirror across from the bed, we both watch as he slides one hand up my rounded belly, the other down between my legs. He encircles the base of his cock with his hand and taps my clit with his fat crown. We both gasp at the exquisite sight when he feeds his length into me.
“Ride me,” he encourages, latching his palms around my hips. “Work yourself up and down on my cock. I want you to watch yourself too.”
I shiver at his instruction, doing as he says. I position my knees on each side of his powerful thighs and lift up then sink back down cautiously, feeling the blunt head catch on my entrance. He's so big this way, the stretch intense as I impale myself on his rigid length.
Leaning forward slightly, I brace my hands on his thighs, rocking slowly. This feels incredible. He knows exactly what my body needs.
“Fuck,” Seamus breathes, kneading my ass cheeks. “Your pussy is so tight, Marcella. It feels so goddamn incredible.”
Encouraged, I gain confidence and watch myself slide up and down his shaft, raising myself almost all the way off before sinking back down. I watch in the mirror when his cock appears, glistening with my arousal and then vanishes into my puffy folds. I’m mesmerized. Every nerve is alive with the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced.
We’ve spent days fucking each other in every position possible. This is different. Now, I can see the way he watches me. His expression isn’t merely hunger or lust. It’s something quieter. Deeper.
Love.
He hasn’t said the word, and neither have I.
Yet, I feel it settling into the spaces between our bodies. Anchoring itself in the way he fucks me like I’m some kind of miracle. The way his hands worship my full hips, plush thighs, and pillowy belly like they’re his most-cherished prizes. A week of fucking him has brought me to the point where I don’t flinch or suck in my stomach or try to cover myself anymore.
