Page 87 of Love in Training
Drew moans briefly against my breast, but doesn’t hesitate to peel the offending clothing down over my hips. I suppress an eye roll when he doesn’t take my panties with them, only because I’m one hundred percent sure he’s trying to be polite. Instead, I run a finger under the waistband of his black boxer briefs and give his straining cock a little squeeze.
“Condoms are in the bedside drawer,” I say as he gasps.
By the time he’s found one and turned back to me, my bra and panties have joined the rest of our attire on the floor. Something like dismay flits over Drew’s face as he tracks the step I’ve skipped, but whatever frustration he might have had quickly shifts to lust as he drinks in my naked body.
“I’ll hold that,” I say, plucking the condom from his fingers so he can cup my breasts with both hands. He kneads them together, burying his face between them, rolling and teasing my nipples one at a time until the ache at my core is a full-on throb.
“My turn.” My voice is raw and husky as I reach for his shorts, pulling them carefully down until his thick cock bounces free and points at me like a compass. I fist it in my hand, andwe groan together when my fingertips don’t even come close to touching around it. “Fuck. Yes, please.”
But I’m a glutton for delayed gratification, so instead of rolling on the condom, the first thing I do is flatten my tongue and run it over his tip.
“Fuck,” he hisses, and I savor a salty drop of promise as I run my tongue around the head to get him moist before closing my lips around him. This time, whatever words make it out of his mouth are unintelligible. I take this as verification that he likes what I’m doing, and keep up my ministrations. Opening my mouth wider, I slowly work him as far as I can manage into my throat.
He starts to move, and I relax my jaw, moving to his rhythm, letting the fire build between my legs, until suddenly he gasps and pulls out. He collects himself, then advances, tipping me back until I flop into the covers and he’s caged me with his enormous, sculpted body. He looks me over like I’m something he’s savoring, then grumbles under his breath.
“You are going to fucking kill me.” He presses me into the covers with his kisses, then pulls back gently to look at me, trailing one hand down my body until his fingers slip between my legs, finding me wet and needy. “Ohh,” he groans, sounding satisfied. “You arereadyfor me.”
“Yes,” I gasp. His fingers glide up and down along the length of my center, and I might combust if I don’t get some relief. “Please.”
Drew doesn’t wait for clearer direction. He takes the foil packet from me, tearing it open and rolling it handily down his considerable length before positioning himself at my entrance.
“I’m . . . big. I’ll try to ease in.”
I rake my nails down his arms. “Just get inside me, Forbes.”
So he does. With one short thrust and a flash of heat, I am deliciously filled, my ready channel expanding to accommodatehim, except hekeepsfilling me. Pushing further, shaft stretching so far it feels like I have to exhale just to let him sink the rest of the way in.
“Did what you asked.” He grunts.
“Yes.” I gasp, wide-eyed, butnotcomplaining. “Just uh—just need a sec.”
He waits patiently, remaining still for the moments it takes to collect myself. Then I look straight up at him. “Oh, that’s fantastic,” I say. “Now,pleasemove.”
A smirk tugs at his lips, but he does what I ask, moving softly at first, stretching me further and making me pant each time his head nudges my cervix.
“Oh, fuck.”
I’m not sure if that was me, or him, or both of us as I lose myself in his rhythm, savoring the friction he creates as he thrusts against my ache. I stretch my arms out, wrapping my legs around him as his movement intensifies. At some point he grabs my legs, pulling me up his thighs while he kneels. As soon as I’m in place, he reaches down and finds my nipples, rolling and squeezing them until my core is so tight I am bucking in his lap.
“What do you need?” he asks, voice quavering like it’s going to break apart any moment.
“I-I—” There’s no way I can speak, so I thrust my fingers between my legs, zeroing in on my clit as he keeps up his rhythm.
His face registers what I’m doing, but he bats my hand away, placing one of his big thumbs at my center instead without missing a single delicious thrust. “Allow me.”
My eyes widen at the bold suggestion that he can balance his own pleasure with mine, but the look on his face is pure and confident lust, so I decide to let him try.
And I’m not too proud to admit when I am instantly impressed. He pumps his thick cock into me while somehow also maintaining the exact right amount of pressure in the exact right place to dial my pleasure through the roof. My body and mind can’t handle the onslaught, and it takes roughly six seconds before I am literally screaming and convulsing with the best fucking orgasm I’ve had in two years. But Drew doesn’t let up. He pummels his cock into me harder—never missing a beat with that clearly skilled thumb—until I climax asecondtime. At which point he emits a deep groan, and with one more great thrust, he comes along with me, his cock slowing its rhythm in time with my pulsing core.
We collapse together on our sides, and before I can speak, he pulls me with him under the covers. Only vaguely do I register Rufus’s nose at the side of the bed, sniffing curiously at us until Drew mutters, “Ruf, she’s okay.”
I crack an eye open and laugh when I register the dog’s uncertain face. I give him a small pat while fighting back a yawn. “Definitely okay. Quite a bit more than, I’d say.”
Rufus looks back and forth between the two of us before making a bored snort and climbing back on his couch. Drew gathers me in his arms, and I press my face to his chest, breathing him in as he strokes my hair. Losing myself in his scent, his warmth, his skin. Vaguely, sometime just before I start to dream, the vase of wilted roses darts like an intruder through my mind, invading my peace. I’ll have to speak with Randall about it tomorrow, try to figure out what it means. But for now, I clutch the sheets, burrowing closer to Drew. Sinking into a deeper, more secure sleep than I’ve had in months.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
