Page 76 of At First Dance
“I can’t—Rowan—” I gasp.
“Yes, you can,” he growls. “Give it to me.”
I come hard, body trembling, legs tight around his shoulders as he drinks me down like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.
And then—God help me—he climbs up, kisses me, and flips us in one motion so I’m straddling his chest.
“Your turn,” I breathe, already reaching for his jeans.
He helps me get them off, and when I finally get his boxers down, I pause.
He’s big. Thick. Hard. My mouth waters all over again.
Rowan smirks. “Like what you see?”
I shoot him a wicked grin and slide down, licking a slow stripe from base to tip.
His head drops back. “Jesus.”
I slowly take him in my mouth, letting my lips stretch around him. He groans, hand fisting in my hair.
“You’re perfect,” he rasps.
I swirl my tongue, hollowing my cheeks, moaning around him as I work. I can feel him throb on my tongue and hear the filthy sounds he makes when I suck harder.
“Get up here,” he growls, tugging me up his body and twisting me around. “Sit on me like you mean it.”
I straddle his face and lean forward, taking him back in my mouth as he goes back to worshipping me from below.
It’s filthy. It’s perfect.
He licks and sucks while I moan around him, the two of us caught in some messy, glorious rhythm. He groans into me every time I swirl my tongue, and I whimper against him every time his teeth graze my clit.
It’s too much. It’s not enough. And then I’m coming again, shaking, mouth dropping from his cock as I scream his name.
He lets me ride it out before flipping me again, positioning himself at my entrance.
“Condom?” I ask, barely able to remember my own name.
“Shit. Hold on,” he says as he leans back, his abs and chest flexing as he reaches into his nightstand and grabs the familiar aluminum packet.
“Ready?” he pants after sheathing himself.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He pushes in slowly, stretching me in the best way. We both moan when he bottoms out.
“Fuck, Ivy,” he groans, burying his face in my neck.
He starts to move, slow and deep. Every thrust sends sparks through me, the tension climbing again, his name a litany on my tongue.
“You feel like heaven,” he pants, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder. “Like you were made for me.”
I cry out, hips meeting his, the pressure building again. Something about this position hits me in the best way. I can already feel myself shaking beneath him.
“I’m close,” I breathe. God, when has anything ever been this powerful?
He reaches between us, circles my clit with his thumb, and I shatter—white-hot, blinding.
