Page 127 of When It's Us
Hutch starts cutting the chicken into bite-sized pieces. I lean back in my chair, feeling something soft but heavy twist in my chest. It's such a small thing. But it lands hard.
I lift my water glass and take a big gulp, my throat suddenly dry. As I reach for the roasted carrots, I realize I left them on the counter.
I start to rise again. “Shoot. I forgot the veggies.”
But Hutch is already standing. He touches my shoulder, gently pushing me back down.
“I said I got it,” he murmurs. A gentle smile playing on his lips. “Eat while it’s hot.”
So I stay.
I watch him cross Hayley’s kitchen, like he’s done it a hundred times, grabbing the tray with a towel, and setting it down between the boys like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he belongs there.
And God, maybe he does.
Hutch
She’sridingmelikesin itself, and I’m letting her—barely. We’ve both already come, but I’m still hard inside her as she rides out her orgasm and I’m losing my goddamn mind.
She’s in reverse cowgirl, knees planted wide on either side of my thighs, her ass bouncing with every thrust, slick heat gripping me so tight I see fucking stars. I watch, wide-eyed and breathless, as she takes me again and again—her body flushed, hair clinging to her back, her thighs trembling. Every slide of her hips, every messy slap of skin, is a masterpiece.
“Jesus, Ginger,” I grit out, my palms brushing her hips. “You see what you’re doing to me?”
She doesn’t answer. Just lets out a low, broken moan and grinds down again, like she wants to bury me inside her forever.
And maybe she could. Maybe I’d fucking let her.
But then I see it—us. The slick mess where our bodies meet, where she’s soaked me. The proof of what we've been doing since putting the boys to bed hours ago.
It snaps something loose inside me.
“Off,” I growl, sitting up and gripping her waist. “Come here.”
She gasps when I haul her off me backward—her cunt fluttering around nothing, slick and swollen—and barely has time to blink before I lay flat and drag her up my chest.
She lets out a little yelp, then settles on her knees, her perfect ass perched above me.
“You’re gonna ride my face now,” I rasp. “From the back. Don’t think. Just give it to me.”
Her breath hitches, but I don’t wait. I pull her back until her knees bracket my head and her soaked pussy hovers above my mouth, ass arched and trembling, folds still leaking with both of us.
I don’t even breathe. Just grab her hips and yank her down.
And then I devour her.
The taste of her, of us, hits my tongue like lightning; hot, wet, messy. My cock throbs against my stomach as I lick up every inch, groaning deep in my chest, tongue working through her folds with slow, reverent drags. I lick into her like it’s my only purpose, moaning like I need this to live.
She tries to shift, hands gripping my thighs, hips rocking uncontrollably.
“Stay,” I pant. “Fuck, baby—stay right there. I need all of it.”
And she gives it to me.
Her body shakes over mine as I lick deeper, my nose pressed to her skin, tongue fucking into her like I’m claiming her. Like I need to taste how far inside her I’ve been. Every drop of us together. I want it all in my mouth.
“You wanna taste yourself with me?” I groan, chin soaked, lips raw. “You should. Youreallyfucking should.”
She lets out a wrecked little sound, and I slide one hand from her hip, then swipe my fingers through the slick mess of us dripping down her slit, before bringing them to her lips.
