Page 43 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming
“Yep. I’m all clear, and I’m on birth control.” Lyric smashes her lips against his.
She kisses his chin and jawline before biting him.
“Oh, fuck.”
They kiss some more, and Ranson, whose pants and underwear are around his ankles, picks Lyric up and shuffles to the bed before gently putting her down and opening her legs.
He pushes his dick inside of her.
“Oh, thank you,” Lyric moans.
“You’re welcome. Thank you, too,” Ranson chokes out.
Lyric giggles. “I meant thank you for no foreplay and getting right to it. I’ve been wanting your dick inside me since we met.”
“Got damn, Lyric. Baby, you cannot say shit like that while throbbing around me.” Ranson takes a breath.
“You’re so deep,” she whispers.
“Dear God, woman!” Ranson declares.
“There’s that accent,” Lyric teases.
“Your pussy definitely brings it out. Oh, shit, I was not ready.”
“Wasn’t ready for what, money bags?”
“Your pussy. Shit, Lyric, you’re so tight.”
“I do Kegels, and it’s well known that our sex drive goes up during our forties. You’re experiencing grown woman pussy right now.”
“Oh, God!” Ranson groans.
“Let me ride that dick.”
“Okay.”
Ranson gets on his back, and Lyric sinks down on him, causing him to grab her ass. She thrusts her hips forward, and his eyes roll into the back of his head.
“You okay there, baby?”
“Ahhh! Lyreee pussseee,” is all Ranson could get out.
“You like that shit, Ranson? Or should I say ‘Shakir?’”
He nods his head rapidly. “Call me whatever you want.”
“How much you love this pussy?”
“I love your pussy,” he whines.
“Say it again.”
“I love your pussy! Lyric, you’re gonna make me come.”
“Can’t have that. Not until I go first. You hear me? I come first and always.”
“You come first.”
