Page 92 of At First Flight
“There,” she says. “Now stop hesitating.”
I touch and kiss and explore every inch of skin she gives me. Her breath catches as her body arches, and when I take her nipple in my mouth, she moans so softly it nearly breaks me in half. It’s nearly impossible to ignore the growing erection behind my zipper.
She rolls her hips into mine, desperate and wanton. AndGod, the way she moves—like she’s done waiting, too.
When I slide my fingers beneath the waistband of her shorts and pull them down, she lifts her hips without hesitation. Beginning at her ankles, I trail my fingers and lips toward the apex between her thighs. With a quick swipe of my fingersbetween her legs I can’t hold back the devious grin that grows on my lips. She’s wet already, soaked through, and the knowledge that I did this to her sends a shock straight through my cock.
I lean in again, dragging my mouth down her stomach, kissing each hip bone before dipping lower. She spreads her legs like an invitation—a dare.
And I accept both.
Slipping off her panties, the pale lace tossed somewhere behind me, I taste her like I’ve been starved. Her desire both sweet and salty, an addiction I can see myself growing fond of. Within minutes she falls apart under my tongue, my name a garbled mess crying out from her throat.
Control slipping, I undo my pants and slide them down my legs, my boxers and socks quickly following. My cock stands at attention, pointing directly toward its target as Lila sits up and tugs at the hem of my T-shirt, pulling it over my head.
“My God, you’re gorgeous,” she mumbles, her fingers trailing across the ripples of my abdomen. I bite back the moan.
“Grab the headboard,” I command. Lila jerks in surprise, but her eyes flutter in excitement.
She scoots back on the bed toward the pillows. Her hand fumbling for a wooden slat, her other one tangled in my hair as I climb onto the mattress, following with my lips sealed against her folds. I work her slowly, steadily, until she’s panting my name like it’s a benediction and rocking her hips against my mouth.
“Dean,” she gasps. “Please. Don’t stop. Don’t…”
She breaks on a cry, thighs trembling on either side of my head, breath hitched, back arched toward heaven. I don’t stopuntil she pushes me away, spent and shaking. My cock a painful reminder that he wants the same attention.
I kiss the inside of her thigh, then crawl up her body.
“You okay?” I whisper against her lips, letting her taste herself. I nearly growl when Lila moans at the nibble.
She nods, eyes still hazy as she accepts my kiss. “More than okay.”
“How do you want me, sweetheart? I’d love to feel you, all of you, but only if you’re okay with that. I’m clean and get tested regularly. Whatever you want,” I say through clenched teeth, barely holding myself together. I can’t help but reach between my legs and stroke my dick. Lila knocks my hand away and replaces it with her own.
Fuck, I’m going to come before I get to slip inside her pussy.
“I’m clean. After everything with my ex, I… I needed to be sure. And I’m on the pill… I want to feel you too, Dean. Please.”
I brace myself above her, her slim hand guiding me toward her slit, our bodies aligned. “I want you to keep holding the headboard.”
She blinks up at me. “Why?”
“Because I want you to feel everything,” I say, my voice low and tight. “And I want toseeyou lose control.”
The flush in her cheeks deepens, but she doesn’t argue. She reaches up and grabs the wood. And I sink into her in one slow, deep thrust. She cries out, her legs wrapping around me, pulling me deeper.
I have to stop myself from moving too fast. I want to savor this. The slide of her body against mine. The way she holds that headboard like it’s the only thing anchoring her in a sea of yearning. The way she looks at me like she’s finally letting go.
I thrust again. And again. Inch by agonizing inch. Slow and deep and firm until I’m seated fully inside her tight pussy. And it’s fucking perfection.
I try to restrain myself, make it good and romantic for her, but my cock has a mind of its own, and my thrusts grow wilder, rowdier.
Her breath stutters. Her mouth opens. She tries to speak, maybe a curse, maybe a plea, but I swallow the sound with my mouth. Our tongues dance in a tango that mimics our bodies.
We build like the summer storms. Rumbling. Pressurized. Frightening in its intensity. Her muscles tighten around me. Her thighs squeeze. Her chest pushes upward. Her voice, God, her voice breaks into little gasps.
“Don’t stop,” she breathes. “Oh my…”
“Never,” I whisper. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good.”
