Page 67 of The Pucker and the Princess
The more time I spend with Dozer, the more it seems like there was never anything wrong with me at all. I just hadn’t found someone who worked with me in the right ways.
He carries me into the living room, where he stops kissing me to look around. “Bedroom?” he asks, and I hitch a thumb over my shoulder, keeping my other arm wound around his neck.
Dropping the reusable grocery bag in his hand to the floor, he grips the back of my thigh, pulling one leg up to his waist, and I quickly get the idea and wrap my other leg around him as well. Grinning, he carries me to my bedroom where he gently lays me on the bed. He kisses me thoroughly, stripping me slowly, each article of clothing sailing over his shoulder followed by his until we’re both naked. “Show me what you like,” he murmurs against my skin as he kisses my neck.
I squirm against him. “This. I like this.”
He stops kissing me and shakes his head, a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “No. That’s not what I mean. Show me what you do when you’re alone. When you’re thinking of me.”
A hot flush rushes up my body. “Who says I do anything while I’m thinking of you?”
He grins, caressing my cheek with the back of his finger. “This blush.” Sitting up, he looks around. “Do you have a vibrator? Where is it? Is it in the nightstand?”
“Uhh …”
He shoots a quick glance my way as he opens the little drawer, then comes up, a triumphant grin on his face as he holds aloft the purple vibe I keep in there. “Please?” he asks quietly, passing me the vibrator. “You’re so sexy. I want to watch you come.” He settles on the bed next to me, leaning over to kiss me, his hand trailing up and down my body, coming close to but never quite touching the places I really want him to.
His touch is almost hypnotic, though, and before I can second-guess myself, I part my thighs, dragging the silicone toy along my skin. When I’m alone, I’m usually a lot more perfunctory than this. Masturbation is like relieving a sexual itch, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s better when you just take care of things without dragging it out.
With Dozer, though, I like that he takes his time. That he doesn’t rush to get his dick in me as fast as possible. That he spends so long kissing and caressing before anything else happens. That he clearly wants to make sure I get what I need too. And not just as an ego boost, but because he cares about me, and he takes the time to make sure I orgasm too.
When I turn the vibrator on, he lifts his head, looking down between my legs, but I reach for his face, bringing his mouth back to mine. Even if he did say he wanted to watch, he doesn’t protest, kissing me thoroughly, his hand still mapping its way across my body, now sliding up and over my breasts one at a time, his thumb stroking each nipple in turn before gently pinching them in the way that never fails to make me gasp, electricity shooting down my spine to gather between my legs.
The next time he stops kissing me, I keep my eyes closed, letting him watch if he wants to, losing myself in the sensation, the knowledge that he thinks I’m sexy, that doing this turns him on, and that in turn ramps up my own desire. For him. For us. For this.
I hear him rustling around, and my eyes flutter open for just a second to see him moving around. Then he’s kneeling between my legs, gently pressing my thighs apart to make room for him, stroking his dick slowly with one hand. “Can I?” he asks, and I nod.
Without disrupting my work, he gets himself in position, and I feel the broad head of his cock nudging at my entrance. I gasp. When he drives himself home, I come with a shout, the shock of his thrust all it takes to push me over the edge into bliss.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Dozer
She comes as soonas I push inside her, her pussy squeezing me like a fist, her shout ringing in my ears. I force myself to move slow, knowing she’ll need a second to recover once she finishes coming, but desperate to pound into her, to follow her to the promised land.
I’m barely rocking into her, and her orgasm seems to just keep going and going and going, until finally she goes slack beneath me, and I hold myself still, waiting a beat before gathering her in my arms and kissing her.
She kisses me back, slowly bringing her arms around me, holding me close, and I lose track of how long we stay like this, joined and kissing, and I couldn’t ask for anything more in this moment. Until she starts moving her hips, pressing up into me, her knees bracketing my thighs, her feet planted on the bed for leverage.
And just like that, I’m done.
I managed to keep myself slow and present all through her orgasm and after, but I can’t hold back anymore. Reaching down, I grip one of her legs, hitching it higher on my hip so I can sink into her just that little bit more. I let go of my restraint, letting my instincts take over, chasing my release until I come, my blood roaring in my ears, the feelings so intense I feel like I might black out as I pulse inside her.
Once I come back to myself, I roll to the side, taking her with me, not ready to pull out but not wanting to hold myself up anymore. She lies on top of me, as boneless as I am.
“Oh my god,” she whispers. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life.”
I can’t help grinning, feeling smugly satisfied. Trailing one hand down her back, I put my other hand behind my head. “Good.”
She kisses my chest, and warmth spreads through me at the gesture of affection, supplanting the smugness and making me feel cared for in a way I don’t know if I remember feeling before. Not like this, at least.
Eventually, I feel myself start to soften, and I know I better pull out before the condom falls off inside her. Rolling her to the side, I reach between us and hang onto the base of the condom as I withdraw, making quick work of disposing of it and washing my hands before climbing back into bed with her.
Marissa snuggles into me, pulling a light blanket over us. I keep one of my legs out because I’m still warm, and with her added body heat, I don’t need the extra layer. But I tuck it around her, making sure she’s covered, kissing her forehead and letting out a soft sound of contentment that she echoes.
Conversation flows between us, easy and free, the way it always has, and it feels like all the things that were discombobulated recently have found their way back into place, a few extra slots getting filled as well where I wasn’t even aware there was something missing.
This is it, though. This—what I now have with Marissa—is what I was missing.
