Page 191 of Becoming Us
He’d been the one to organize everything and put it there in the first place, but now he seemed to be fumbling with it.
I reached for his hair, tugging gently to bring him back to me. “Do you want to? We can stop.”
“I really, really want to. Trust me.”
I grinned. “Okay then. Hand it over.”
He passed me the bottle. I slicked my fingers with practiced ease. Bracing one hand against the headboard, I lifted myself slightly and reached between my legs. Atty’s gaze tracked the movement, unblinking.
I stroked myself slowly, watching his eyes darken. His lips parted as I slid my hand lower, circling the tight ring of muscle before easing a finger inside.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice barely above a breath.
“Getting myself ready for you.” I rocked my hips in slow motion, pressing my finger in deeper.
His gaze flicked up, then down again. “Let me do it.”
Instead of answering, I kept moving—letting him watch. I slipped out and pushed two fingers in. His tongue swept over his bottom lip.
“Not fun for you?” I teased.
“It is. I just like doing it too.”
“Then join me.”
His eyes found mine, searching. I gave him a small nod. He reached for the bottle, coated his fingers, and touched them to mine—just hovering, brushing, not yet pushing in.
I pulled one of my fingers free, pressing my forehead to his. “Come on, sweetheart.”
He lined his up beside mine and eased in. I groaned at the stretch, the contrast in feel—how much deeper he could go.
I rocked over us, hips moving in a lazy rhythm. My lip caught between my teeth as pleasure rolled through me.
His hand slid up my arm, raising goosebumps, then curved around the back of my neck, guiding my mouth to his. When he pushed two fingers in, I moaned into the kiss, adjusting to the new burn.
“Do you like that?” His breath was hot against my lips.
“I fucking love it,” I said with a laugh. “Do you?” I lifted my hips, then dropped again, grinding slowly. “Do you like watching me fuck myself on our fingers?”
Atty didn’t answer right away. When I opened my eyes, his gaze met mine—molten, burning with hunger.
Maybe it was too much. Maybe I was being too possessive. But god, I loved that I was the only one who got to see him like this. The only one who could draw this kind of fire from him.
“Are you going to stay up there?”
“Do you want me to?”
His nod was immediate.
I smiled. “You want to watch me ride your cock like this?” To make my point, I lifted myself again and rolled back down on our hands.
“Yes.” The word tumbled out, like he couldn’t say it fast enough.
I straightened my back and withdrew our fingers. I laced our hands together and pinned them beside his head. With my other, I steadied his cock. The blunt tip pressed against me, and I circled my hips slowly, teasing, loving the way his eyes fluttered shut. How it made his long lashes fan over his cheeks.
Then I sank down—inch by inch—until he was fully seated inside me.
His lips parted in a silent moan, eyes squeezing shut and neck taut as he pressed his head back against the pillows. I loved watching the pleasure on his face. There was nothing like it—seeing that stony facade crumble to shambles.
