Page 64 of Our Long Days
One arm propped on the tree trunk above my head, he cups my breast, thumb stroking over the simple lace. It’s strange tothink of this man as gentle, but as he circles my nipple, my knees threaten to buckle from the light caress. “You weren’t complaining last time.”
He’s right. I put up a fight at first, purposefully being difficult. A murmured “Brat” was the last thing I heard before he dragged me across the mattress and ate me out from behind. Dex made it clear who was in charge, but he liked me “acting out” before I eventually submitted.
I’ve been with a handful of guys, all of whom treated me with respect. They were sweet, considerate. Dex respects me without question. It was obvious our first time, and it’s obvious now. There’s a tenderness to him, but it’s the power exchange I crave.
“That was last time,” I sass. “This is now.”
His touch disappears, and my attention drops to where his inked hand falls to the button of his jeans. The hiss of his zipper is louder than my heartbeat.
“You gonna misbehave tonight? Need me to fuck the attitude out of you?”
Yes, please.
This man deserves a standing ovulation. He reads me with ease, and knowing we’re on the same page is thrilling.
I reach behind me, unhook my bra, and drop it to the ground. My nipples harden to painful points. A deep groan fills the air as I peel my cotton thong from my damp center.
He chuckles when I nod at his jeans suggestively. He frees himself, keeping his jeans on. The insides of my thighs go slick at the sight.
Fisting his length with slow, measured strokes, he stares at me keenly. He’s long and thick. Proportional in every way possible. Veins run down his arms, but it’s the ones flexing along the curve of his stomach, framing his cock and disappearing behind the dark patch of curls, that have my mouth watering.
I want to spend hours studying the words and images sketched into his skin.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he murmurs, bending to press a kiss below my ear.
“I like how beautiful you make me feel.” My eyes flutter closed when he nips at my lobe.
I’m so on edge, the brush of his hands between my legs has me jumping, my thighs snapping together.
He tuts. “Don’t hide from me. I want to watch your pleasure drip from you. Because later, it’ll be me leaking out of this tight little cunt.”
I catch myself on his shoulders, gasping when a thick finger teases my entrance before shoving inside. I’m so wet, he slides in easily.
My legs tremble as he moves in and out of me lazily. “I’m patient, Florence, and before I fuck you, you’re going to learn how to behave. There’s only one rule: you say stop, we stop. I’m all for this push-and-pull game. Tell me you understand that.”
“I understand. I like it when you’re in charge, telling me what to do. I’ll listen…” A smirk twists my lips. “Eventually.”
A kaleidoscope of butterflies takes flight in my belly at his dark chuckle. “Oh, Trouble, you’ll obey me soon enough.”
All humor dies when Dex lowers to the ground, dragging me with him until he lies flat on his back, my legs straddling his chest.
“What are you doing?” I glance at the tent.
“Can’t wait,” he rumbles, fingers digging into my thighs. “You’ve got five seconds to sit on my face.”
“Dex, anyone coul?—”
“Now, Florence.” He smooths his thumb and forefinger over his mustache. “Ride it. Soak it. Don’t fucking care. Five. Four. Three. Two?—”
Before the countdown finishes, my legs swing over hisshoulder, hovering above his face. Completely bared to him, he inhales deeply, nose pressed to the inside of my thigh.
“What happened to teach—Fuck, Dex! God!” My teasing is cut off when he dives forward, spearing me with his tongue and dragging me down at the same time. His hungry grunts vibrate through me, my toes curling.
He’s a man possessed, devouring me.
The peak of my pleasure barrels toward me. Close, so close.
“Oh, ohhh, Dex,” I whine, one hand on the top of his head and the other palming my breast.
