Page 43 of Vivacity
She looks anything but contrite. ‘Can’t help it. I want to touch you.’
‘Fuck. Take it off.’
She shrugs off the cursory cuff and cups my neck, pulling my head down for a hard kiss. There’s something about kissing awoman when you’re inside her that’s intensely gratifying. It’s the hottest echo of fucking her.
Sophia’s hands travel down my body as I do, grabbing and clawing my shoulders, my biceps, my arse, like she can’t get enough. It seems our hunger for each other is a raw and desperate thing.
If I’m going to go full throttle with my self-indulgence here, I may as well treat myself to the best view in the house. I force myself to still inside her for a moment and roll us over so she’s lying on top of me. All that dark hair of hers falls around us, blotting out the daylight for a moment.
‘Ride me,’ I order her. ‘Show me how badly you want this.’
She pushes herself upright with a pained little laugh, using her hand to scoop her hair back in one big flick.
Holy fucking hell.
She is spectacular.
She sits astride me, hair everywhere and eyes molten. I’m not sure where to look—at her flushed face, or her magnificent tits, or at the spot where my dick disappears inside her body.
All I know is that she’s the best show in town. She rears up and slams back down, and the pleasure courses to every extremity in my body. I slide my hands along her thighs so I can grip her hips hard, controlling her movements, ensuring she stays on track. And, like the pro that she is, she does. She works my dick with slick slides, the pleasure she feels every time she sits fully down on me painted all over her face.
Then she’s falling forward, planting her hands either side of my face so she can really go for it. Her hair tickles my chest, her tits bounce inches from my face, and I realise that she’s not servicing me at all. God, no. She’s working me for herself, wringing every bit of pleasure she can from my body like the greedy little thing she is, and I fucking love it.
I release her hips so I can palm her tits roughly. When I pinch her nipples, her entire face contorts, and she lets out a long, low moan. Christ, she’s such a beautiful, sexual creature. Her entire body is made for fucking, for giving men—and, it seems, herself—pleasure. I thrust up into her as savagely as I can from my supine position and, through my shockwaves of need, deliriously congratulate myself on an epic fucking hire, because Sophia really is the full package.
‘I need you to come, sweetheart,’ I beg her brokenly, because what Idon’tneed today is to shoot my load before she does. From the strangled sounds she’s making and the desperate way she’s grinding against me, it seems she’s close. ‘I need you to keep milking my cock and taking what you need. Keep grinding that greedy little clit against me and show me what you’re made of.’
‘Oh Jesus,’ she groans as she gets herself upright. I manage to keep hold of one of her breasts, using my other hand to find her clit and rub. I’m not taking any chances here. Our skin is slick with sweat. Her fringe is sticking to her forehead. I track her movements, keeping my hands on her as she rides me, chasing her orgasm. Our eyes are locked. Hers are wild, desperate with her need to come. I’ve never seen anything like it.
She rides me harder and harder, lost to whatever need is fuelling her right now. Her cries grow louder. More fevered. I lie here and I thrust, my entire body shaking with the effort of holding myself back, of keeping my?—
Fuuuuuck.
She breaks.
She bucks and she screams and her clit grows impossibly harder, slicker, and she slams down on me over and over and overand I fucking detonate.
I jerk on the bed, powerless beneath this goddess to do anything but let the orgasm she’s milked from me course overmy body. My hips rut uselessly, the most unearthly bellow breaks from me, and I’m dimly, blissfully aware of Sophia thrashing around above me as I fill up the condom in great, angry spurts.
Jesus fucking Christ, I’m hollowed out and reborn. I’m nothing and everything and so flooded with wellbeing that I feel weightless and thoughtless and… done. I’m done for. I let my arms fall outwards onto the sheets.
Then Sophia’s smiling down at me, a majestic, sated smile that strikes me as the biggest triumph I could possibly have wished for, and she’s lowering herself down on top of me. Deep inside her, my dick twitches happily as her breasts settle against my chest and her lips find mine.
With difficulty, I find the use of my arms, burying my fingers in her hair and smoothing them down her back as I kiss her, slowly, lazily. Our tongues entangle. Our breaths mingle. And I sigh my bone-deep contentment into her mouth.
Fuck the Montagues.
This is what I call a win.
CHAPTER 21
Sophia
‘How does that feel?’ he asks, shooting me a dirty grin as he smiles down at me.
I wince. ‘Intense. It’s a lot.’
‘I think you can take a bit more.’
