Page 13 of Slapshot & Sweet Potato
I find the spot that drives her wild. Stroke it slowly, insistently, curling my finger until she’s begging me to take her there. The smell of her arousal wraps around my heart until my pulse, my circulation, my breathing—every part of me—strains toward her pleasure.
Her hands grip my back, fingernails digging into my flesh. “Oh, God, Wallace. Yes, please don’t stop,” she begs, breath racing to a crescendo I may need even more than her.
When she finally shatters around me with a warm gush, I lap her greedily, not wanting one drop to go to waste. My new favorite flavor. My deepest need. My finger continues to work her, to stretch her, to get her ready for me.
“I’m clean,” I murmur. “And I have condoms.”
“Yes, please,” she says. “I’m clean, too, and I want to put it on your cock.” Her assertive words shiver through me, sexy as hell.
I disappear to the bathroom, returning with a couple of small, colorful packets I slap on the coffee table. Wendy lies back in the cushions, fully sated and naked from the waist down. Between her bedroom eyes, her spread legs, her sexy curves, and that sated smile, my heart melts inside my chest. Fuck, I’m in love.
I shrug out of my yellow and black flannel, chuckle as she eyes me. “You look like you’re in your happy place.”
“I am,” she says, her voice warm velvet. “Now, it’s your turn.”
Chapter
Six
WENDY
“This whipped-cream thing can go both ways, you know.” I wink.
Wallace’s face tenses. “Oh, yeah? How do you mean?”
I sit up on the couch, motioning him to me. He obeys, eyes flashing with fire as I unbutton and unzip his denim. My hands slide beneath the waistband of his black boxer briefs, already tented in the front with anticipation.
“Mmm, you’re a big boy,” I purr, admiring his long, thick cock.
“You like it?”
“Dunno, yet,” I say with a wicked smile. “Have to taste it first.” I swirl it in more of the cool cream as he groans. My tongue flicks out, licking his tip, and he looks like his knees are about to buckle. “Hold still,” I scold, gripping the backs of his strong thighs.
I take my time teasing and licking his shaft. Enjoying the mix of cold cream and hot need as I suck him in and out of my mouth, dissolving him with each stroke.
His shaking hand slides to the back of my head, fingers tangling in my locks as desire overcomes him, and he presses me insistently into him, hips moving. Every pass of my tongue and mouth tightens my throat, slickens the throb between my legs until I can barely take it.
“You taste so good,” I whisper, staring up at him through thick lashes.
“Need you, Wendy,” he says like a plea. “Need to feel you from the inside out.”
My breath hitches as he hands me a packet, hand shaking. “Want to make you feel good more than anything.”
I tear open the packet, place the plastic over his tip, hands trembling with desire as I slide it down over his girth. So large. Not sure how I’ll take him.
“Come here, Sweets,” he says, with a flick of his hand that gets me off the couch.
“Don’t need this,” he grumbles, pulling my sweater over my head.
We stand naked, appreciating each other for a long moment. My fingers come up, trace the angles of his chiseled planes.
I don’t get it. How a man so hard and athletic could want something pudgy and soft like me. But his eyes say it all, simmering and burning as they wash over every inch of me. Like he’s memorizing me.
Moisture pools in his eyes. The fire paints his face gold as he rasps, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Wendy. Too fucking good for me. But I’m too selfish to let you go.”
With one powerful burst, he pulls me from the ground, and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. My arms thread around his neck, our gazes locked as he slides into me, slowly, sensually.
“You feel so good,” he pants, closing his eyes for a second. Turning his head to the side as tension mounts between us.
