Page 132 of The Invite
“August!” she cries, twisting and trying to buck off my lap. “Ahh!”
My eyes flare, cock hardening to steel as she calls me by a nickname without even realizing it. This is the second time she’s done it and the effect hits me square in the chest with the same reckoning force as the last time.
I should hate it. I’m not her boyfriend she can give silly names to.
Yet I don’t call her out on it and demand she never call me that. Angry at my inability to do so, I shove a third finger in her spasming hole.
It’s a tight fit and her walls clench and stretch to adjust, especially when I meanly ignore her clit.
All of it becomes too much for her and she slumps against my chest, burrowing into the crook of my neck. Small fists hit my torso while she helplessly squirms.
Her rough pants tease my skin and cloud my senses, and a protective need surges deep within my chest.
Circling her little nub, I slow down my rhythm. A pleasurable sigh slips from her lips. I repeat the motion. A flick of my thumb. A gentle thrust. She makes the sweetest sound again. I withdraw and sink all three fingers deep.
When she moans, my cold heart expands. Her pussy becomes wetter, leaking arousal down my wrist. I haven’t fucked her or anyone else this slow and it’s a new experience. The need never arose until her.
I commit every little detail to memory.
The growing slippery feel of her cunt, her fingers teasingly stroking my hair. The lazy roll and grind of her hips as she chases my digits plunging into her again and again. Her delightful moans against my neck, rising by the second. Especially the tightening of her walls indicating she’s about to come.
Suddenly, I’m desperate to see her face as she finishes.
Fisting her curls, I lift her head and she slowly blinks her eyes open. The look in them is drugged, high on lust. I don’t know who she’s seeing as she gazes at me so deeply but it’s not the monster chasing and stalking her in the shadows.
The hand gripping my strands loosens and travels to trace my jaw. Unfurling her hand, her index finger reaches to touch my bottom lip while her stare incinerates it.
Her head tries to dip for a kiss but I tighten my hold on her silky tresses.
I thumb her clit hard, distracting her from the urge.
She gasps and whimpers as her orgasm bears down. She constricts around my fingers so hard that I can’t move. I roll them around inside her and press against her G-spot, drawing a long shudder.
“August!”
The thin thread holding my control snaps.
Flipping us around, I lay her down on the seat and pull off her leggings. Once she’s bare from the waist down, I spread her apart. Hovering my mouth just an inch above, I spit until it dribbles down the crack of her ass.
I feel her hooded gaze on mine as I rub from her clit to the puckered hole. Pressing my middle finger against it, I raise my gaze to hers as I push inside. Her eyes roll back in her head when I’m buried to the knuckle.
A keening noise leaves her when I twist and stroke along her nerve endings.
Withdrawing achingly slow, I thrust hard to the hilt.
Her back lifts off as she slaps her palm against the seat, trying not to ride my hand. I don’t give her a choice and finger fuck her tiny asshole while pushing my thumb into her pussy.
“Did you look at my gift?” I ask softly.
She shakes her head but her eyes come alive, conveying the truth.
“Really?” I hum innocently, forcing her to accept another finger in her virgin hole. Licking her lips like speaking is tough, she nods thinking she’s fooling me. “Are you saying you weren’t curious at all what I did to you after you passed out?”
A fire erupts in her pupils, and she hisses, “I didn’t pass out. You drugged me!”
“Here you are, riding the hand of the very man.”
“You give me no choice.”
