Page 79 of Shortcake
“I’ve dreamt about this moment for three years,” he gritted into my ear, his mouth gliding down my neck as his thumb traced circles around my nipple. They hardened into two stiff points, impossibly, even more.
Coming back up, his tongue sliced into my mouth, claiming me, controlling me and he leaned me back against the hot tub with a splay of his large hand at my sternum.
Where too many thoughts were once swimming in my mind, it was now blissfully blank. Filled only with the here and now. Conrad’s mouth. Conrad’s fingers. Conrad’s hands.
He kissed me until I was panting, breathless, hips churning in the heated, jetted water. I was wordlessly begging for relief as his hand slid up my thigh beneath the water. Curving his fingers into the loops on my hip, he tugged gently and next thing I knew, my bikini bottoms were floating beside me, while I was fully nude, on display, soaking and spread wide for Conrad.
His hand drifted between my thighs, hovering just over the aching spot where I needed him most.
“Is this okay?” he growled, voice rough, but controlled.
“Yes. God, yes. Conrad, please—”
He kissed me again just as his thumb pressed against my swelling clit and I cried out into his mouth.
With a splash, he pulled away from my mouth and hands beneath my ass, lifted my entire body above the water, sliding me so that I was propped against the side of the hot tub. I was wound too tight. Desperate and needy, unable to respond or object as he demanded, “Spread your legs for me.”
My swallow was thick as molasses, but I did as he said, slowly opening my knees, his gaze fixed onto my pussy.
We stayed locked like that for the length of one long, slow drag of his breath. “Fuck,” he growled, then squeezed my thighs with a bruising grasp, and dove between my legs, sucking my clit into his mouth.
I cried out, my lower back bucking off the cedar edge and I slid my fingers into his thick tuft of chestnut hair, begging him, calling his name over and over, unsure what the hell I was even begging for.
Each stroke of his tongue was relentless, sucking, licking, flicking against my clit, torturing me with each dizzying stroke. Every scrape of his teeth, each lick of his tongue tightened the building pleasure, knotting me tighter and tighter.
Two fingers sank inside of me, slick and wet, parting my waxed folds and my lips parted on a seized breath.
What began as stars blurring my vision became a meteor shower distorting the orange glow of the setting sun above me as his thick, assertive fingers plunged in and out of me.
I was snagged in the expert, swift rhythm of his fingers and the rapid strokes of his tongue against me.
His groan of pleasure vibrating against my clit was my undoing. My thighs quaked, core tightening and pulsating as my orgasm split through me, exploding onto his tongue, curling my toes within the water, and curving my back off of the wood planks.
The buzz of pleasure receded, leaving small aftershocks of bliss trembling my muscles.
Nothing has felt this good.
No one has felt this right.
He started to step away, but I tugged him back to me. “No,” I whispered, tugging the strings of his shorts open. It can’t be over. Not yet. This wasn’t just for me and my pleasure.
He smiled softly, curving his large hands around mine. “No condom out here,” he murmured.
The knot at my lungs loosened.He wasn’t done with me yet. “I’m clean,” I said. “I get tested regularly. And I’m on the pill.”
His dark blue eyes flashed, the ripple of the water reflected in their depths.
“I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
White noise roared in my ears. I couldn’t have heard him right. “You haven’t been with anyone in three years?” I managed to repeat.
He shook his head.
Holy shit.
This guy was a saint.
“We’d better make this good, then,” I said, voice a hoarse whisper.
