Page 14 of The Pen Pal
She walks toward the mirror on the far wall and trails her fingers along the edge of the frame. “I say a lot of things, but I didn’t think you’d actually listen.”
“I listen to everything you say.” I walk behind her, and she watches me approach in the mirror. “Especially the filthy stuff.”
She meets my eyes in the reflection, her throat bobbing, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “I talked a big game, but I’m not actually that experienced in this.”
I slide a hand around her waist and pull her to me, her back hitting my chest. I toy with one strap on her shoulder before letting it fall. “I’ll do all the work, Amelia. All you need to do is say yes.”
She takes a deep breath before answering, “I’m here, aren’t I?”
I plant a soft kiss on her shoulder, and she moans. “Not enough. I need the word, Amelia.”
“Then, it’s a yes.”
Her pupils dilate, and her lips part in anticipation. I turn her in my arms and crush my lips to hers.
That first kiss sends my pulse into a wild, frantic flutter. Her lips are soft and eager against mine, and when her hands tangle in my hair, I lose whatever grip I had on restraint. Well, it’s not like I had much to begin with.
I cup her jaw and mold my lips to hers, coaxing her lips to part. When she does, I sweep my tongue in her mouth, devouring her and swallowing her whimpers. Her fingers dig into my biceps, and my hands find her ass, kneading her globes roughly and pulling her against my erection.
“A-and the mirrors?” Amelia asks when we finally catch our breath.
I suck on her bottom lip between my teeth. “So impatient.”
She laughs when I turn her around until she’s facing one of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, but it turns into a moan when I press my lips to the back of her neck. She gasps. Her back arches just a little, and it’s all the invitation I need.
I lower the zipper, exposing inch after inch of soft, smooth skin. Her dress slips down her shoulders, pools at her ankles. Her breath hitches as I finally touch her, my hands sliding over her bare back, wrapping around her waist.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Amelia.” I trail kisses from the side of her neck to the back and on her spine. “I can’t wait to watch you come apart.”
Her hand finds mine and guides it lower. “Then stop talking,” she says, voice trembling and hungry. “And start showing me.”
My hands find her hips, my mouth brushing the shell of her ear. She shivers, but her skin flushes with heat. I tilt her chin so she keeps looking forward. “Eyes on us.”
She watches as I snake a hand between her legs, and she parts them for me. I’ve barely touched her pussy, but her thighs are already sticky, and I groan. Fuck. She’s already so wet for me,and my body reacts to it. I can already feel the beads of precome wetting my boxers.
Amelia has driven me crazy with lust, and now that she’s here in the flesh, I’m about to spontaneously combust. And by God, I feel like the luckiest man in the world because she’s giving this gift to me. The gift of her.
I touch her clit with my finger, and her back arches again, her fingers digging into my forearm. Holding her gaze in the mirror, I tease her taut nub, alternating between gently stroking it and sliding my finger along her wet, soft slit.
She closes her eyes and gasps. “Oh, God.”
I growl. “Open those beautiful eyes, Amelia.”
She snaps them open and bites her bottom lip. Her thighs tighten around my hand, and she begins moving her hips. But I take my hand out and go back to the bed, spinning us and laying her down gently.
Amelia sits on her elbows. “Why did you stop?”
I chuckle and kneel before her, lifting her leg and draping it over my shoulder. “Just keep watching.”
With how the mirrors are positioned—strategically and intentionally, I might add—she has a full frontal view of herself and a side view of me going down on her.
I part her lips with my fingers and maintain eye contact as I drag my tongue along her pussy, flattening it on her clit.
“Oh, Jesus.” She digs her ass into the mattress and lifts her face to the ceiling. “Fuck.”
My tongue flickers, and I worship her with languid circles, taking note of when she clenches her thighs or lets out a whimper. She fists the sheets, and I watch in amusement as she forces her eyes open, fighting against her instinct to close them, and let the pleasure wash over her.
I lift the other leg over my shoulder and shove my tongue deeper inside her pussy, groaning at the taste of her. Fuck, how can someone taste this good?
