Page 271 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
Disagreement is shown in one simple move, as his head moves again.
“Ambrose,” I plead, voice heavy with need.
His eyes find mine, the orange hues from the fire glowing on us at this angle.
Just you then,he mouths.
“No… us. It should be us.” I slip away from his grip, and he lets me, trusting me more than ever with a single nod.
Pushing his sweats down his strong thighs. His chest pounds, rising and falling as I expose him to me. I touch him again, my hand smoothing down his length. That touch becomes a stroke.Tip to base and back again. I tease his length, lingering at that sensitive rim, circling, and guiding my thumb over his slit.
Precum leaks out onto my thumb, and I use it to lubricate him, moving my hand faster and faster. Tighter and harder.
He moves back over me, fast breaths kissing my lips before his tongue slips past them.
His fingers sneak back into my shorts, pulling them away from my wetness. I gasp as he pushes two inside me, sliding deep into my pussy. His thumb lingers at my clit, adding pressure I can’t take as his digits pump inside me. My hand continues working his length.
Both of us moan into each other’s mouths. My free hand moves to his neck, to the most brutal of his scars that pulls with each movement of his neck muscles. My kisses drop there.
Lowering his body, his free hand moves to my face, touching me tenderly. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. What I need. What I’ve never had.
My body responds, tight muscles pulsing around his fingers as they curl in the most perfect way.
“Oh, yes,” I breathe out into his hot skin.
The pleasure ramps up, the most intense feelings I’ve ever experienced. Tears sting my eyes, and a warmth spreads through me.
Nudging me into place with his nose, sensual kisses trail from my jaw to my ear. He suckles there, sending shivers down my arched spine.
A whisper fills the air, “God, I want you so fucking much.”
Hearing his voice, thick and sex-laced and in an accent so different from mine, snaps my head to him.
My wish to see him isn’t granted as my eyes roll.
The sofa dents as my heels dig in, and my toes curl. Two fingers continue to slide in and out of me. His thumb still teasesmy clit, making me wetter and wetter. A sloppy sound lingers in my ears over the crackling fire.
“I’m yours,” I stutter, losing all sense of everything around me except the feeling between my legs and his cock that my hand clenches around. It twitches to my words.
I can barely breathe. He can barely breathe, each breath catching in our throats.
“I’m going to come for you,” I pant, breasts tapping him through our clothes.
“Fucking do it. Prove you’re mine and come for me.”
I’ve always been his.
I scream out something that sounds slightly like his name, and it echoes around the room.
My pussy clamps hard on his fingers, that building pressure inside me releasing as my body shudders in the throes of the orgasm he’s given me.
Moans fill my ear, and something sticky covers my hand and thigh. I glance between us, seeing the creamy white cum staining my shorts.
A pink flush sits on Ambrose’s skin, shining through the white, sweat-streaked paint. He attempts to sit up, putting distance between us that I’m not ready for.
My fingernails jab into him, keeping him and the musky scent of arousal on me. I let my lips drag over his skin, watching a little more of the paint fade away.
Another buzz from my phone interrupts the moment.
