Page 54 of All The Way Under
It’s a living room, with several chairs, a sofa, and a small chaise. The bedroom is too far. There is another set of French doors in here that are open, and I notice the building across the street. They’re about to get a show if they’re watching this room.
A flush creeps up Saylor’s neck. She grabs the hem of my shirt and lifts it over my head. I take off my shorts. I hiss a sigh of pleasure when she wraps her hand around my shaft.
“No,” she replies, shaking her head. “I want you to make love to me.”
Leaning down, I press my lips against hers. “I love the taste of you. I want to taste you everywhere,” I breathe against her lips.
I slide a finger inside her and crook it toward me, rubbing her G-spot.
It’s odd having her like this—in the comforts of civilization instead of a waterfall. It feels brand new.
Saylor lies down on the chaise and teases her legs open.
“Taste me everywhere,” she says, eyes on mine, smile deepening, slow and knowing.
Fuck. She’s perfect. Don’t fuck this up, I tell myself. You can’t. You won’t recover this time. You won’t.
The negative self-talk only lasts a couple of seconds until I settle my face between her legs and lick her wet slit up and down. I savor the tang on my tongue and growl in delight.
Saylor makes little mewling noises, her knees wide, giving me full access. She’s smooth from a fresh shave, and I try my best not to rub my scruffy face against her, but she’s pulling my head to her, holding me.
I let my tongue fuck her clit, up and down while sliding one thick finger inside her tight slit to continue rubbing her G-spot. Saylor arches her back off the cream-colored chaise, and I follow her pussy up to keep my pace steady. She cries out, cradling my face, and her pussy grips my finger in waves.
“Come for me,” I say, pressing my finger against her warm core harder.
She comes, screaming, gripping the sides of the chair with freshly painted nails that look like claws, fighting to hold the pleasure longer.
A sheen of sweat on her body creates more images of perfection. Like a painting in a museum, painted only for me.She’s breathless from her orgasm, looking at me like I’m the only person on earth. The love is visceral and breathtaking.
“You going to come for me now?” she asks, licking her lips, gaze searing into my fucking soul.
She reaches between her legs and slides her fingers into the slippery wake I created.
“I’m wet for you. I’m only wet for you.”
I shake my head as I watch. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but there’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more.”
“I don’t think we did anything to deserve this. I think we were always meant to find each other. This was always going to happen between us, one way or another.” She slides one finger inside herself and moans. “How do you want me? Tell me what you’ve dreamed about.”
My dick jerks at mere words. It might explode if I don’t claim her soon.
“I’ve dreamed about being inside you in every which way you can think up, and even a few that are physically impossible while we’re affected by gravity.”
She pulls her pussy open with two fingers on each hand to give me a perfect view.
“Sounds like we need to find a way to get into space, then.”
My hands find her hips before I realize I’ve moved. I pull her onto my dick slowly, kneeling on the chaise while her shoulder blades stay down on the cushion.
“Yes, Brody. Yes,” she says, as I pull her tight pussy onto my dick.
She’s so light, I can fuck her with my arms, without even thrusting at all. I pull her off and on, watching my cock sink into her and exit, glistening with her wetness. Saylor’s arms are above her head, her hands holding on to the arm of the chaise, and her eyes are closed.
“I want this forever,” she says, drawing a sharp breath.
My nostrils flare as my excitement takes over the moment. She’s mine in all ways when I’m fucking her. When I’m making love to her. She belongs to me and no one else. Yanking her onto me, I watch her face wilt with need—and in satisfaction.
“I hate to be a pessimist right now, but forever won’t be enough.”
