Page 107 of Four Weddings and a Funeral Director
‘But promise me you don’t write poetry.’
‘I don’t write poetry.’
‘Oh thank God.’
Her hands found the button of his trousers, then the zip, and momentarily there was just a thin barrier of fabric between him and her searching fingers.
Mort swallowed as she teased him through the fabric, then dragged down the trousers together with his boxers, releasing him.
‘Now you’re just being cruel,’ he murmured.
Raising an eyebrow, Lily curled her fingers around him and stroked his length. Damn, he felt good in her hand. So strong, so sure, soready.
‘Still being cruel?’ she asked innocently.
‘So cruel.’
‘I have my flaws, I suppose.’ She dipped down, touching her lips to him, running her tongue around his tip and testing the saltiness of him.
Mort swore.
‘That bad, huh?’ she said, before covering him with her mouth, until her lips met where her fingers were curled around his base.
Mort had a few choice additions for the swear jar.
Lily found a rhythm, enjoying the strength of him, enjoying the strain of his legs and the urgent grasping of his fingers against her shoulders.
‘Come this way,’ he said finally, drawing her back up, higher and higher, until he faced the skirt that just this morning she’d decided was too much (or rather, not enough), before saying fuck it and pulling it on anyway. His fingers found the edges of the skirt hem, dragging it up until he revealed the wisp of lace essential to preventing an underwear line – comfort be damned – which he pulled aside, finding her slickness with his fingers and opening her gently, yet hungrily. He slid a finger into her, then another, and Lily could feel her muscles clench. Fuck, she wanted him so badly.
Mort rose up to his knees, following his fingers with his mouth. As his tongue found her, probing her, worshipping her, exploring electric circles around her clitoris, Lily groaned in ecstasy.
‘Now who’s cruel,’ she murmured, her hands knotted in his hair as she pulled him closer to her.
All she wanted was for him to be inside her.
Like this, for now, but then …
Momentarily, she pushed him back down, straddling him and rubbing her wetness against his length. His dark gaze on hers, Mort held her hips to him, grinding cruelly against her.
Now it was Lily’s turn for a display of abdominal prowess. Still straddling him, she reached across to her handbag, pulling out one of the condoms she’d swiped from the leftover debauchery baskets from Venus’s wedding. (Apparently wealth did trickle down, in its own way.)
Fingers teasing, she rolled the condom on, then arched her hips forward, positioning herself so that Mort could enter her. He did, easily: Lily accepted him impatiently, rolling her hips so that she could sheathe his entire length.
‘You take me so well,’ he whispered, his voice low and urgent, layered with animal desire.
‘Like this?’ murmured Lily, grinding her hips even deeper, so that there was no space between the two of them. No room for anything else but the heat of their bodies and the shared, starving look in their eyes.
Mort reached to clasp her thighs, his hands slowly shifting around to her butt, then the small of her back, pulling her into him over and over. Lily bit her lip, focused on the pleasure of him inside her, the slight ache of it where he filled her.
As they moved together, she could feel the waves of pleasure building in her, travelling up through her body, then into her neck, face, hair – all of it tingling as her rhythm grew more determined and her breath grew more ragged. Her finger found her clitoris, and she could feel her entire body fizz from the pleasure.
‘Are you going to come for me?’ whispered Mort, his eyes daring her to let herself go entirely.
Lily was holding on to her orgasm, revelling in the feeling of the connectedness of their two bodies, not wanting the pleasure to stop. But the cliff edge was coming, and sooner or later she’d have to back away – or let herself go. Finally, she relinquished, letting Mort take her over the edge with a final stroke and the touch of her own hand.
Her muscles clenching over and over as she carried herself downwards and back to earth, she leaned into his neck, her teeth grazing the stubbled skin as she coasted back to reality. Mort followed, his hips rising to hers as he found his own release. Lily could feel the pressure of him inside her as he held her close, and she nipped and kissed at him until his shudders subsided.
‘Wow, we might get a noise complaint after that,’ murmured Lily, scooting aside and settling into the crook of Mort’s arm. He was sheened with sweat, as was she, and she loved how he glimmered faintly under the lighting of the moon.
