Page 110 of Until Tomorrow
“That’s it, baby,” he practically cooed. The smooth heat of his cock on my tongue was an aphrodisiac all on its own, but there was something about how he talked to me that threatened to obliterate me. The heat coiling my spine was intense as I continued to stroke myself.
When I dragged my tongue from root to tip and back around his head, he moaned and inched closer. I took him in my mouth and lowered down on his length. I was slow and meticulous while I explored him with my mouth and tongue. There was no real attempt to get him to come—not yet.
Instead, I paid attention to the noises he made when I ran the flat of my tongue over the sensitive spot on the underside of his crown. I watched the way he held his breath when I sucked hard, hollowing out my cheeks. When he hit the back of my throat, I breathed through my nose like I’d watched my wife do hundreds of times over again.
And the sound he made when I swallowed around his cock made me smile.
“Fuck, baby,” Loren hissed. His fingers weaved through my hair, fisting tight as if grounding himself to me. I slid off his dick and right back down, repeating the action. “Fuck.Just like that, baby. You suck my cock so well.”
Words like that sparked something inside me. My dick leaked in my hand, and I was desperate for my own release. I picked up my pace, bobbing up anddown his length.Licking, sucking, swallowing.The sounds he made doubled in intensity, and his hold on my hair was damn near brutal with his restraint. All the while, I stroked myself at the same speed.
“Make yourself come, baby,” Loren said, his voice strained. “I want you there with me.”
That was one problem we wouldn’t have.
“Keep going, baby. Keep going,” he practically chanted. The hand on my head took control to guide me up and down on his dick faster. His hips thrust upward, fucking my mouth. I was pliable in his hands, being whatever the hell he needed me to be. “Fuck, Logan, I’m going to…fuck.”
That was all the warning I got before he pushed me down onto his length, spurts of hot cum spilling into my throat. I swallowed quickly to take everything he gave me. The heat that held my spine in a vice grip destroyed me, and I came hard along with him. Cum leaked through my fingers and dripped on the hardwood.
I sat back on my heels, licking a drop of him off my lips, while he sagged in the chair. Those dark eyes watched me while a satisfied smile curled the corners of his mouth.
“Would you do it again?” Loren asked quietly.A pivotal question.One I didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Absolutely.”
Chapter 54
Eva
Why—whenIhadacloset full of clothes—did I have nothing to wear? Hands on my hips, I stood in my underwear and stared at the racks of clothes lining my walk-in closet. They all felt… wrong. What the hell was wrong with me?
Usually, I never had an issue with my form-fitting dresses and heels. I’d worn them for years—occasionally adding in a nice pair of dress pants and a blouse. But lately? I hated all of them. They felt off against my skin. It was like I didn’t know who I was in them.
And I didn’t want to wear them.
Any of them.
At all.
In fact, the longer I stood there, the more I realized just how much I hated most of the dresses in there. They weren’t… right. They were some version of me that I’d cultivated to appease others.
I grabbed armfuls of hangars off the racks and stomped back into the bedroom, throwing them down on the bed. Back and forth… back and forth… until practically my whole closet littered the bed. I only kept a few, like the sapphire dress I knew Logan loved, and a few pieces I was fond of. Beyond that, I didn’t want any of them anymore.
I wanted to wear comfortable clothes and comfortable shoes. I wanted to look in the mirror and see me staring back—not some doll made up for someone else’s approval.Not anymore.
Except, as I stared at the obscenely large pile of clothes, I realized that when I got rid of everything here, I wouldn’t have clothes to wear.
What did I want to wear?That was the question of the day—one I had to leave the house to answer. Pursing my lips, I stared at the clothing pile. I hated shopping alone.
I swiped my phone off the dresser and called Rhett.
“Would you like to go shopping with me?” I asked the minute he answered.
“I…” he faltered, and I laughed. I let him hem and haw his way through attempting to answer. The poor man probably had no idea what the hell he was getting into with a question like that.
“Let me rephrase that,” I said, finally giving him a reprieve. “Would you like to come stare at my ass and tell me which jeans do it justice?”
“That’s a much better question,” Rhett replied with a laugh. “I’m all in for staring at your ass, spark plug. I need to wrap up some things at the shop, though. Would half an hour be okay?”
