Page 98 of Where We Belong
Jesus, she tastes so good. I give her restless body another lick, then reach into my bedside table for a condom.
“Wanna do the honors?” I ask, half because I want to test whether she still wants this and half because being touched by her is my kryptonite.
Panting, she lifts herself to her knees, tears at the foil packet, then wraps the condom around my length, all the while giving me slow, delicious strokes.
“I know what you’re doing,” I groan.
“Is it working?” the wicked thing asks, parroting her earlier words.
I push my rock-hard erection against her hand. “What do you think?”
She continues touching me, watching my every move and sound, as if she wants to learn all there is to know about me. She feels amazing, but when I feel like I won’t last long if she continues, I lay her down on the bed, spreading her thighs and kissing both of them, long enough to get her squirming under me. I want to get her begging for it.
I let my tongue dart out to lick around her clit once again, and when her legs start shaking, I look up and say, “Think you’re wet enough?”
“Yes,” she moans.
Hands clutching her thighs, I say, “Well, just to be sure.” And then, never breaking the eye contact, I spit on her pussy. Her lips part, eyes aflame.
Grinning, I say, “Now I think you’re good.”
I climb her body so we’re face-to-face. As much as I liked getting her ready, I feel like stopping for a moment. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I say, “You still sure about this?”
“Finn?” She pulls me closer, and in my ear whispers, “Just fuck me already.”
Now, how am I supposed to say no to that?
With a wolfish grin, I grab myself and align with her center. “As you wish.”
Then, I push inside, and everything inside me blanks out. Nothing remains but her and me. Nothing but the fruity smell of her damn shampoo and the taste of her lips. I don’t think I could tell you my name if you asked.
She doesn’t just taste like heaven; she feels like it too.
Slowly, I pull out and thrust back in, never looking away from her face. I fear noticing some sort of disconnect, but the only thing I see is her head thrown back, bottom lip clenched between her teeth, a beautiful blush on her cheeks.
“You entirely with me right now?” I say before biting her shoulder.
She nods, her hips bucking under me.
“Say it, then.” I drop a kiss under her earlobe, earning the softest sound out of her. “Tell me who’s fucking you.”
“You are, Finn.”
I up the pace as I bring a hand to her clit and start rubbing in tight circles, just as she likes. “That’s right, baby. I am.”
I shift forward so I can hit a spot that makes her eyes roll back, and to help me reach at an even better angle, she lifts a leg onto my shoulder, stretching around me like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
I guess the rumors were true: gymnastsarethe shit.
No, not just gymnasts.Lexie’s the shit. Not just because of her flexibility, but because of the small crease in her chin, and the sound of her laughter when I hit my elbow against the headboard and curse, and the way she looks at me like I just hung the moon.
My thrusts are jerky now, the orgasm building in my groin. I fight it off as I rub faster at her clit. I can feel her close again, and finally, when she claws at my back and moans my name loud enough for the neighbors to hear, I let go, and my mind disconnects.
I am nothing, no one, just this one sensation that could never be compared to anything else. No one will ever feel this good.
It feels like forever until I come back to myself. Spent, I let myself fall to her side and cradle her body with mine as I try to catch my breath.
“That was…” she starts.
