Page 68 of A Very Snowed In New Year
So tight.
But so, so wet.
I think I’m dying.
She’s holding her breath. Her hands grip my biceps. I wait for her to suck in a breath, and then I thrust in as deeply as I can. She cries out, a sharp staccato scream that turns into something like a groan. The good kind.
“You okay, baby?”
“Yeah.” She loops her arms around my neck, rocks her hips, and hikes her legs up toward my waist. “More.”
God damn.
I will give her so much more.
“You feel so good, baby.”
“I like this.”
“Me too.”
“You’re good at this!”
“Thanks.” I have to laugh a little because she has no idea how true that is. And then I say the thing that I never thought I’d say to someone: “I think you were made for me.”
“I had a feeling I was, Holden.” She sounds so shy and confident at the same time.
I have to kiss her, real quick, because I can’t slow down.
She’s breathless and panting, and if I do this right she’ll come again with me inside her and I will be a hero because that never happens the first time.
I find a good rhythm.
So good.
Fucking hell, it’s so good.
It’s happening.
Her tits are bouncing against my chest.
Her hips are rolling.
She’s milking my cock.
She’s calling out my name.
She’s ready.
I go faster and harder.
She snakes her arms around my back and presses herself against me, her neck arched. We are both slick with sweat and hoarse from breathing so heavily. She screamsOh my God. My name. She sounds confused and elated. Like she has no idea what she’s feeling but she’s so happy she’s feeling it, and I feel so fucking lucky I’m the one who gets to make her feel this way. She’s chanting like she’s cheering me on.
We’re both ready.
I slam into her and freeze in time.
There’s the release and the connection and disappearing and finding something I’ve been missing.
