Page 84 of The Arrogant One
Life didn’t get any better.
Except it did.
Because only minutes ago, she’d told me I didn’t have to wear a condom, and that meant the second I lifted her a little higher against the wall of the pool and set her on the tip of my dick, I would feel her.
In a way I hadn’t felt her before.
“Do you know what I love?” I asked.
She slid her hands up my neck. “Tell me.”
“You’ve given me your body. And I can do anything I want to it. Which means you never know what to anticipate. Everything I do comes as a surprise.”
She brushed her hands through my scruff. “And it all makes me breathless.”
God, she was fuckinggorgeous.
“My mouth does that to you?”
“Yes.”
“How about my fingers?” I slid them in between her cheeks, tapping the higher hole. As I rounded the rim, I felt her intake some air.
“Yes.”
“What about my tongue?”
I moved it to her ear, gently licking the outer edge before going behind it to her hairline, down her neck, and across her collarbone. She tilted her head back to give me more room, and I used every inch she offered, dragging it to where the water met her chest and back up to her lips.
“Does it make you breathless when it’s on your clit? Or when I slide it down your clit to lick the rest of your pussy?”
“My God, yes.”
“I want to give you my mouth, Sadie.” I lifted her a little higher, aiming my tip so all I would have to do was jerk forward and I’d be inside her. “I will sometime this evening, but right now, I need to feel how tight you are.” With her legs around me, I was locked in place. “And I want to feel you come on my dick.”
Her lips were wet and glistening—it wasn’t from the pool; it was from her tongue—and I just wanted to fucking devour them.
She slid her hands into the back of my hair. “Are you going to come in me?”
A question that made me throb.
And that made me even harder.
“Only if you want me to.”
“I do. I want to feel?—”
That admission was all it took for me to thrust in, burying my cock until it couldn’t go any further. “Yes,” I hissed. “I’ve been fucking waiting for this feeling and—shit, it’s good.”
“Lockhart!”
That wasn’t a scream of pain; it was a scream of pleasure.
“Jesus Christ,” I moaned. “How can anything feel this good?”
How could I describe this sensation to her? I could tell her she was dripping. I could tell her she was warm. I could tell her she was tight.
But unless she was experiencing this, she’d never understand. Not when a piece of latex was normally between us, preventing most of this sensitivity, and I was finally getting to have these feelings.
