Page 93 of Three Bossy Boyfriends
“Goddammit, Finley,” he rasps. “You feel so fucking good.”
He shifts his hips slightly and the burning stretch eases. In its place is a nice, achy stretch that feels good but at the same time demandsmore.
“Yes. God,” is all I can manage.
He pulls his hips back and thrusts forward again.
Oh,there we go. My body has already adjusted, and now that deep ache is even more needy. “Tucker, more,” I moan.
His fingers tighten on my ass, and he thrusts again, faster this time, somehow hitting even deeper. “You’re taking me so good, Badass. You okay?”
“Just because I’m not babbling about you being some kind of god or something doesn’t mean I’m not okay.”
He grins down at me. “Good thing the rest of me is big, because my ego’s never gonna get too big with you around, is it?”
I squeeze his cock with my inner muscles. “Yeah, good thing.”
Then he usesthatbig part of him to fuck me into the wall.
And it’s so, so good.
The hard surface behind my back, his big hands holding my ass, his solid chest in front of me all give me a sense of support and foundation, and I just let go. I relax. I stop holding back. I stop being afraid.
And Tucker fucks me hard and deep as I do actually babble something about, “Oh, my God, so good, yes, there, more, Tucker, yes, so fuckinggood,” until I’m squeezing my eyes shut, gripping his shoulders, and coming hard.
He’s right behind me, gritting my name out through a clenched jaw, squeezing my ass hard, his whole body stiffening as his orgasm hits and he pumps into me one last time.
He rests his head on the wall next to my ear, his hot breath sawing in and out against my neck. He holds me tight.
I rest my head against his shoulder, breathing him in, letting the ripples of pleasure chase each other up and down my body.
For about two minutes.
Then I thinkDamn, I really like this guy—maybe we can go on a real dateand I immediately push him back, slide to the floor, and bend over to grab his shirt.
“Bathroom is right there,” I tell him, pointing at the door to the powder room just to his left.
He lifts a thick brow, but he doesn’t say anything.
He was expecting this.
Because he knows me. He sees me. He understands me.
Fuck.
He returns a few minutes later, and I’ve got my skirt and shirt on again.
“So,” he says, stopping right in front of me.
“So,” I echo, staring at the middle of his chest.
He lifts a finger to my chin and tips my face up.
“So,” he says again. “Enjoy that you got your way, and it was quick and fast against the wall.”
I swallow. “I did,” I say, trying for nonchalance. “Thanks.”
He gives me a half-smile. “Becausenext time, I’m spreading you out and taking it slow.”
