Page 64 of The Fake Husband Play
I suck in a breath. “Grammercy, I?—”
“Don’t worry,chère, I’ve got you,” he rumbles. “Just spread your thighs for me, sweetness. I’m pretty sure I’m going to die if I don’t get a proper taste of you.”
I obey, and he goes in for the kill, swirling patterns with his tongue before sucking my clit into his mouth with rhythmic pulls that make me cry out. My hands fly to his hair, holding on for dear life as he pleasures me with an obvious passion for his work that’s nearly as much of a turn as the way he alternates between ripples of his tongue and targeted suction that has me writhing. Then he slides two fingers, three, into where my body has already started to pulse, and I come with a cry that becomes a needy whimper as he stays with me through every ripple and wave.
He guides me down to earth and back toward release with the skill of a doula coaching her hundredth mama through childbirth.
I’m so impressed, I nearly tell him so, but then he stands, his face wet from loving me, and it hits me all over again just how wild this all is.
“Bed?” he asks.
“Now,” I agree, taking his hand, past ready to show him I know how to return the favor.
I help him tear at his clothes, ensuring he’s almost naked by the time we reach the bed, where I grip his suit pants and boxer briefs in my hands, drawing them both down his legs. His thick length bobs free, as huge as he felt in the club, but also surprisingly beautiful.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a penis in the wild, but I was pretty sure “beautiful” wasn’t a word I’d ever use in conjunction with one of these spongy, vein goblins. Don’t get me wrong, I love the way a well-handled cock makes me feel, but aesthetically, they’ve never been high on my list.
But Grammercy’s?
It’s perfect—girthy and straight with a thick ridge that makes it look like even his penis lifts weights.
“What a pretty cock you have,” I whisper, bringing my mouth to his already leaking tip, brushing them back and forth, smearing my lips with his salty pre-come like lip gloss. I look up through my lashes to see him shaking his head back and forth. “Yes,” I insist. “It’s a sexy beast.”
“No. I mean, thank you, I just meant, I can’t let you…” He trails off with a gulp that makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “If you do, I’ll come, and I need to be inside you before that happens, El.” He reaches down, pulling me to my feet with gentle but firm hands on my upper arms. “I need your pussy locked around my cock like I need air.”
I shiver as he draws me close, and my bare skin connects with his for the first time. He’s even warmer than I am, especially the eight-or-nine inches of molten heat pulsing against my belly as he squeezes my ass.
“Then you should get inside me already.” I rock forward, nudging my clit against his hard-on with a soft gasp. I’m so sensitive, so wet, I know it won’t take much to take me there again. “I’m ready, Grammercy. Past ready.”
I kiss him and instantly it’s the way it was in the club, so wild and raw, I don’t remember how we get onto the bed. I only remember that every second of it feels right and that when he pulls a condom from the bedside table, my body celebrates at the cellular level.
“Yes, please,” I breathe, dragging my nails down his muscled thighs as he kneels above me.
His hands begin to shake, a thing that makes me feel even more beautiful, more turned on.
“Here, let me help,” I whisper. I roll it down slowly, loving the way his breath hitches and his abs clench when I squeeze the base.
He curses in French, and then he’s surging over me, fitting this cock to where we both need him to be. And then he’s in, pushing deep, ripping a startled gasp from my throat.
“Are you all right?” he asks, freezing halfway to slamming home.
I nod quickly. “Yes, so good. It just stings a little. It’s been a long time.”
“How long?” he asks, still holding absolutely still, giving me all the time I need.
“Three years,” I confess a little sheepishly. “I dated a guy at my first office job, after Mimi was born, but we broke up and I never… I tried dating again but…” I lift my hips, pulsing up, taking just a little more of him, the stinging sensation slowly fading. But the worry remains. “Do you think I’m the lamest girl in Sex Town?”
His lips twitch, but he doesn’t smile. The tension in his face makes it clear how hard he’s still fighting to let me set the pace, a fact that makes me fall a little deeper under his spell.
“No,chère,” he murmurs. “You’re the sexiest woman in Sex Town. The sexiest woman I’ve ever had the honor to be inside of.”
“Only halfway inside,” I whisper as I cup his face. “I’m ready, baby. I promise.”
Am I, though?
By the time he glides deep with an aching slowness made even more intimate by the fact that his eyes never leave mine as he joins us as intimately as two people can be, I’m not sure.
It’s so intense, so powerful, and so damned hot, I’m gasping by the third stroke.
