Page 112 of You Found Me
“Spence. God. It’s so fucking good. Please don’t stop,” I beg.
“Never. Let’s see if I can’t get you there faster,” he says before gripping my left hip and pulling me away from the bed a little.
Before I can ask why, I feel movement.
When I glance back, he’s no longer up on his knees behind me—and instead, he’s seated between my legs.
“How does me asking you not to stop translate to you completely changing your position? Even with the vibe still going, it’ll probably take longer for me to get there now and—”
Anything else I was going to say is abruptly cut off when his tongue swipes from slit to clit while simultaneously thrusting his fingers back in.
I’m already eating my words because this is going to push me over much faster. He’s sucking and rolling the bundle of nerves against his teeth and curling his fingers—as he rubs them against my G-spot—while thrusting the plug in and out of my ass.
I chase my orgasm, grabbing him by the hair, not caring how wild I’m moving my hips. Then a thought hits me, and I step out of his grasp to say, “Get on the bed.”
“What? Why?”
“Because when I orgasm, I want you inside of me. I want to ride it out while riding you.” I tilt my head. “Is that okay?”
Rather than answering, he pops off the floor before I can blink and flops on the bed. “I am simply here for your pleasure.”He sweeps his arms over the length of his body, a wide grin on his face.
“Use me.”
I smile, quickly grabbing a condom and rolling it on. When I throw my leg over Spencer, he sits up on his elbows, watching as I guide him in. While I know the plug is still in me, I didn’t really think about how much tighter it would make me versus him using fingers. We both groan once he’s fully seated inside.
“Christ, Emmy. I’m not going to last long at all,” he rasps out, gripping my hips tight enough to bruise. “Between your heat, the tightness, and the vibration, I’m barely hanging on as it is.”
I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold my orgasm off either, so I lean down, kissing him deeply. I lean back, placing my palms on his chest, then alternate swirling and lifting my hips. I’m lost in the rhythm.
Only hearing the slapping of skin and the harsh breath sounds, when he says, “Look at me when I’m inside of you, Emmaline.”
Our gazes meet and something about the lust andlovein his eyes spurs me on, already in a haze from his words.
“Just like that, Buttercup. You’re so pretty on top of me, chasing your own pleasure,” Spencer says. His low, grumbly words like a zap to my core.
I’m right there—so close—but the sensations are too much. I hear myself whine and it’s like he knows exactly what I need because he moves one hand to where we’re connected and pinches my clit.
My eyes slam shut, stars exploding behind them. The tiny bit of pain was exactly what I needed to send me over the edge. “Spence,oh god.Don’t stop,” I plead.
He groans, lifting his legs to plant his feet on the bed to gain better control of his thrusts, all while continuing to pinch my sensitive nub. “You’re so perfect, Emmaline. Made just for me and all mine.”
I mewl and weakly nod, unable to find words as I feel another orgasm barreling towards me.
“To fuck.”
Thrust.
“To worship.”
Thrust.
“And to love. For as long as you’ll let me.”
I choke on a sob, still not fully believing this wonderful man loves me.
“Spencer, I—”
“Let go, Buttercup. I’m right there with you.”
