Page 89 of Miss Understood

His thrusts get harder, and I know he’s close. He dips his chin, and the stubble on his face rakes against my sensitive skin. He kisses a path from my collarbone back up to my mouth and drinks every exhale as my breath starts to quicken.

“I’m close,” I say to him, even if his urgent thrusts tell me he already knows. Our bodies move as one, like they were carved from the same stone and are finding release in the one place they can call home.

He releases my hands overhead, and I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on as he moves frantically inside me. He frames my face with his grip, holding tight to my jaw and watching my reaction as I fight for my release.

I sink my fingers into his ass and pull him closer, closer, closer. Harder. Until we’re both spilling over that ledge and into each other. My body tenses around his throbbing cock as he empties into me.

I’ve never felt more myself, and I’ve never felt morehis.

Jesse leans down, gently stroking my cheeks with his thumbs as he plants a kiss on my lips.

“I”—another kiss—“love”—one more—“you,” he says, punctuating this moment, this feeling with him. He brushes our noses together with his eyes closed, and I breathe in the parts of him I feel him releasing into me.

“I love you too, Mr. Davis.” I smile up at him. “And I don’t plan on ever stopping.”

A smirk flashes on his face. “Neither do I, Mrs. Davis.” His cock twitches inside me, and he moves ever so slightly. “Neither do I.”

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