Page 97 of Rematch
“Ready to get serious?”
She laughed breathlessly. “That wasn’t serious?”
“Just a warmup.”
Chelsea flipped over onto her back as he rose, wincing when her ass hit the mattress. She narrowed her eyes when Preston chuckled, but her annoyance didn’t last more than a few seconds when he started to undress.
She remained where she was, enjoying the show, biting her lip when he shoved his jeans and boxers off, his erection knocking against his stomach.
Unable to resist, she sat, ignoring her stinging ass to lean forward. Preston groaned when she took his cock in her hand, stroking it a few times before licking precome from the tip.
Preston reached for her ponytail again, but this time he pulled the hair tie out, running his fingers through her curls as they fell around her shoulders.
Chelsea opened her mouth, taking the head of his dick in, pressing her tongue against the spot just beneath it.
Preston hissed in pleasure, his hands cupping the side of her head, pushing her lower, encouraging her to take more.
She let him guide her, fighting against her gag reflex when his dick brushed the back of her throat. Preston loosened the pressure, allowing her to move back, then forward at her own pace. His cock was too long for her to take it all in, so she gripped the base, her hand moving in time with her mouth and lips.
Preston slid his fingers through her hair, then, with one hand, cupped the back of her neck.
Chelsea’s pussy clenched, seeking some sort of stimulation. She’d never been so turned on from a blowjob, never considered this act something that could fuel her own desires.
She increased the pace and depth, only managing a dozen more strokes before Preston took a large step back, his cock falling from her mouth. Chelsea started to chase him, moving toward it, but he placed a firm hand on her shoulder, forcing her to remain seated on the bed, just out of reach of her target.
Her eyes flew up to his. “Preston.”
“Not this time, Chels. Lay back.” He used that grip on her shoulder to ease her to the bed, her own moan falling from her lips when he dropped to his knees on the floor and pushed her legs apart.
Preston didn’t give her a second to brace herself before his lips surrounded her clit, sucking hard enough that she saw stars. Her back arched with delight, even as her pussy demanded more.
“Please,” she gasped. “More!”
She hoped he understood what that meant, because she was struggling to form any other words. Mercifully, Preston was well-versed in Chelsea’s sex language, because he added two fingers to the dance, pushing them deep inside her.
“God!” she cried, quickly covering her mouth with her own hand, not wanting to wake Lennon.
Preston continued to fuck her with his fingers, his lips, teeth, and tongue laying siege to her clit. Chelsea was helpless to hang on as he drove her straight over the cliff.
She cried out again, the sound muffled by her hand.
Preston gave her no chance to recover, adding a third finger to the first two, keeping that maddening yet beautiful pressure against her clit, until the first orgasm blended with the second without a break between.
Her body trembled, the sensations too good. “Too much…”
Preston raised his head, his lips shiny with her juices. “There’s no such thing as too much when it comes to you.”
She stretched one limp arm toward him. “Please,” she whispered.
Preston took mercy on her, rising and climbing onto the bed, caging her beneath him. She reached between their bodies, guiding his rock-hard cock to her opening.
Before she could line them up, he paused. “Birth control?”
Chelsea couldn’t help it. She giggled. “I got the shot. Learned my lesson.”
Preston chuckled as well, but the sound was cut short when he completed the trip, sinking his cock into her with one slow, relentless thrust.
Once he was seated to the hilt, they froze, their gazes connected as they savored the moment.
