Page 150 of Sassy Love
He reaches for me, aiming for my breast. I swat him away.
“Mine. You watch.”
“Fuck, now you’re making me earn it? This is your version of slow?”
“It is. And if I orgasm, you watch. You don’t touch. Got it?”
“Got it,” he rasps. His words are gravel.
He’s right where I want him.
I’m going to make sure my cowboy feels every second of this. Gets every blissful experience I can give him. The overwhelming desire to make him feel good has me dragging this out.
How fucking selfless of me.
I slip two fingers back into my soaked pussy.
The things a girl has to do to treat her man right...
I tamp down a smirk, and he tilts his head. “Fuck, Carlie. What the hell is going on in that head of yours?”
“Just you and your big cock, Cowboy. Promise.”
He huffs a laugh, pumping his cock harder. “Please, let me touch you.”
“Nope.”
I roll my nipple through two fingers, letting my eyes flutter shut, just to drive my point home.
Urgh, those last four words just made everything ten times worse.
Drive my?—
Rough hands spin me toward the back of the sofa. My thighs are nudged wide, really wide, as Lawson winds my hair around one hand and tugs my hair backward.
“Sorry, Princess, that’s not going to work for me. I can’t not touch you.”
He thrusts upward, and I’m filled completely in the space of a heartbeat.
“Ah, fuck! Laws!”
I grip the sofa with one hand, lacing my fingers through his at my hip. He turns my head to the side, capturing my mouth. A beat later, he breaks the kiss, saying, “Good girl, keep screaming my name.”
He thunders into me as his hand leaves my hip. I cant my ass to get a better angle, and he fills me even deeper. Oh god, that’s—I’m going to?—
Fuck.
His free hand collars my throat as my back presses into his chest and his lips brush the shell of my ear. “Every fucking day for as long as you’ll have me, this is exactly where you will come, wrapped around my cock. This is my job, got it?”
“Got it,” I rasp.
“Good, good girl. Now milk my fucking cock. Then do it again and again until I fill you up, Princess.”
I don’t respond—not verbally, anyhow. Instead, I raise one hand, reducing it to two fingers and press them to my forehead in a salute.
His jaw feathers and he thrust into me so deep, so hard, the blissful heat of release swells and explodes, sending me over the edge, wave after delicious wave.
Before I have time to recover from the orgasm of a lifetime, he’s hauled me onto his hips, and we’re on the floor, on the rug by the coffee table under the flat-screen.
