Page 87 of When It's Us
“Let me look at you,” he murmurs.
I nod as his eyes roam my body. He trails a hand down over my hip, brushing a feather-light touch across my clit, then down to my slick entrance.
“I knew I’d get to fuck this perfect peachy cunt eventually.” His eyes flick up to mine. “Knew I’d get to split you open on my cock.”
I bite my lip and nod. Because fuck. I couldn’t find a word to say at this moment if my life depended on it. I love the soft and hard of him. The commanding tone one minute, soft and expectant the next.
“Give me your hands.”
I raise them up, and he grabs the belt.
“Wriststogether.”
He expertly lashes my hands together, then leans over me, his thick cock nudging my entrance as he presses my hands back over my head.
He smirks down at me. “Stay put, filthy girl.”
I nod as I watch him settle back on his heels and take his cock in his hand. With the other, he reaches up and tugs on one of my nipples, making me whimper. My clit is so sensitive, and with him kneeling between my thighs, keeping me spread open, I can’t get any friction.
“You’re gonna watch while I fuck my fist, yeah?” he says, stroking his length.
There is so much of him to look at, my brain can’t register what I like more: his thick cock sliding through his tattooed fist, his bicep and chest flexing with each stroke, or the sight of his heavy balls hanging between his spread thighs. The man is a fucking masterpiece. He runs a fingertip over my clit again.
I nod frantically as his pace picks up and his hips thrust forward. His eyes never leave my body when he releases his length and swipes his fingers through the wetness between my thighs and then spits into his palm before wrapping his fist around his cock again. I moan watching him jerk himself with our combined lube and my pussy aches. A bead of precum glistens on the tip of his cock.
I lift my hands and try to sit up, but he pushes me back down.
“Please,” I whimper with a pointed look at his cock, astounded at how desperate the word sounds. “Let me taste you.”
That sexy smirk tips up his lips and he uses the hand not around his length to swipe up the precum with his thumb.
“Filthy fucking girl,” he pants out and pushes his thumb past my lips.
I suck the salty tang of him off his thumb with another moan, swirling my tongue around it before biting it gently. He picks up the pace on his cock, and the soft grunts and heavy breathing emitting from his throat are driving me insane. What I wouldn’t give to feel his thick cock pounding into me.
“I want your cock, Hutch,” I say through my own panted breath.
“Yeah?” he asks, head tipped back, every muscle straining.
He leans forward, still working his cock, bringing himself so close I can feel the tip bumping my clit with each stroke.
“Get the condom,” I say, nipping at his lips.
He nods, dropping his cock and leaning over the bed to grab the foil packet from his jeans pocket.
I watch as he rips it open with his teeth and expertly rolls it over his length.
He lifts his gaze to mine. “You ready?”
I nod again, dropping my eyes to where he’s fisting his gigantic cock.
He must see the anxiety in my eyes because he chuckles. “I’ll go slow.”
“Kay,” I whisper.
He inches forward, pressing the tip of his cock to me. At first, the burn is slight, but my eyes widen as he rocks his hips a bit.
“Relax for me, Ginger,” he murmurs. “Take your time.”
