Page 39 of The Last Key
“I’m good too. Got tested a few months back after my last time.”
“So, what are you waiting for?”
That sexy half-smile appears, and he grabs my waist with one hand and wraps the other around the side of my neck. Looking into my eyes, he moves closer. His crown brushes my pussy, and I shudder in anticipation.
Then slowly, driving me to the edge of insanity, he pushes into me.
The moan I let out as he goes deeper is loud and unladylike. Good thing Devon’s never cared about me being a lady.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Lie back.”
I bristle at the jolt of cold as I lean back. The second my back is flush with the counter, he thrusts deeper. Holding onto my shoulder, he pumps in and out, andholy fuck.
I fantasized about being with Devon many times, but while I imagined the physical sensations, I never thought twice about the emotional ones. The safety I feel with him, how intensely wanted I feel, the way this physical connection heightens the emotional bond we’ve had for so many years. I knew sex with Devon would be amazing, but I didn’t know it would be this incredible.
Shifting his weight, he leans forward and kisses me. The weight of his body over mine, the feel of his lips pressing into my lips as he moves inside me only deepens my desire for him, the flames burning brightly inside me.
“Devon,” I breathe.
“Fuck yes, baby. Keep saying my name. Say it while I own this pussy, while you come on my cock.”
“Devon,” I say again and he stands up straight, slowing his movements as he breathes deep.
“You feel so damn good, Kend.” After a few breaths, he slides one hand up my ribs, to my shoulder, then my neck, fingers flitting through my hair. “I miss your long hair.”
“So do I.”
“Good. Because I’m going to need you to grow it out again.”
“Why?”
“So I can wrap it around my hand and hold you in place while I fuck you.”
Jesus damn.
My back slides across the counter as he thrusts in and out, sweat pooling beneath me.
“Why’d you cut it?”
Trying to find my senses between gasps, I mumble, “Because my boss told me it looked unprofessional.”
“Fuck him,” he grunts.
My wit returns for long enough for me to smirk and say, “I’d rather fuck you.”
His burning eyes lock on me as his hand wraps around my neck. His fingers tease the hair at the back as his thumb presses into my throat. He groans as he thrusts again, going deep to the hilt.
He moves his hand from my hip, down my thigh, until his thumb is swirling against my clit. My walls clench around him and my spine tingles. He’s sprinting toward the edge with me, his hand in mine as we barrel toward the cliff, ready to jump.
His eyes have clouded over as he struggles to keep control, but I don’t want him in control. I want him here, in this moment, with me.
Gliding my hand up the side of his neck, I look into his eyes. “Devon,” I whisper.
His gaze returns to me and the slightest smile plays on his lips. His chest rises and falls faster as his pace quickens. I dig my fingers into his shoulder as we move closer and closer to the edge,eyes locked, emotion thick around us until we go tumbling over the cliff together.
He groans loudly, mumbling my name as I cry out his, until we’re a breathless heap against his kitchen counter.
He kisses my neck, then lifts me up, carrying me into the living room. He throws a blanket on the floor and sets me down, turns on the gas fireplace, then grabs another blanket and some pillows from the couch before settling in next to me. Gently lifting my head, he slides a pillow behind me, then lies down next to me and covers us with the other blanket.
