Page 10 of Snow One Like You

I’ve clearly surprised her. “You seem like a meat and potatoes kind of guy. No offense.”

“None taken. I am. But vegetables do keep the doctor away.”

She giggles. “I believe that’s an apple.”

Conceding that, I suggest, “Let’s get something with apple for dessert, just to cover our bases.” And that’s exactly what we do. The cobbler is delicious, but I know when I kiss her goodnight, it’ll taste even sweeter.

As I reluctantly leave her at her door, loathe to have our date end, I take her mouth, savoring the feel of her arms around me, her body pressed against me, and her tongue surging forward to duel with mine.

“Calvin,” she moans.

“Sweetheart, you’re making it hard.”

Her hand snakes between us and begins stroking me up and down over my pants. “That I am,” she confirms, giving my cock a squeeze.

Despite the need churning through me, I chuckle at her sass. “Snow?” I groan, my resolve to wait weakening as my craving for her strengthens.

“Yes,” she replies. We both know she’s not answering to me saying her name, but to the unspoken question in it.

“Thank fuck,” I whisper before kicking her door closed, waiting for her to lock up, and rushing toward the hall where I assume her room is with her in my arms.

“First on the right,” she informs me in between kissing my neck. How the hell does she expect me to function when she’s doing that?

I make it to her bed, barely refraining from throwing her on it, to gently set her on her feet instead. Reining in the lust beginning to overwhelm me, I ask like the gentleman I am, at least that I want to be for her, “Is this what you want?”

“You’re what I want,” she immediately responds, answering my query yet not. Still, it means everything to me. She’s choosing me.

I intend to see she never regrets it.

Taking her at her word, I strip, her eyes visually caressing every inch of me a huge boost to my err, ego. When she crooks her finger, my steps take me closer, which is, thankfully, exactly where I want to be. On my knees in front of her, I push her skirt up as she spreads her legs, welcoming me.

Invitation accepted, baby.

Hooking the sides of her panties, I pull them down, baring her to me. I’d take my last breath as a free man, but I’ve belonged to Snow since she walked into that bar. Soon, we’ll both know it.

And with that thought riding me, I dive in.

**Snow**

Is Calvin the type of man to ease into it or go full throttle without any preamb…? “Holy shit!” I exclaim, my curse cutting off my internal question. He stops long enough to give me a devilish grin, then proceeds to blow my mind with his tongue aerobics.

With just a few licks, I’m ready to come. Not only because he seems to know exactly where to touch me, but due to the fact it’s him. This means something.

As he drives me higher and higher, my climax on the precipice, I cup my breasts, squeezing them, pressing my palms down to put pressure on my nipples. I’m so fucking close.

Calvin, instinctively knowing this, sucks my clit into his mouth, giving me the shove off the cliff I need, a rush of passion that short circuits my brain. Leaving my body, my hands grip his hair, unable to tell him to stop, that I’m now too sensitive, while at the same time, never wanting him to.

Calvin smacks his lips and a laugh leaves me. “I’d bow in awe at your feet, but I don’t think I have the strength to move.”

He chuckles as he stands, fist pumping up and down around himself. Bending over, he removes a packet from his wallet. “Had to purchase a new pack,” he informs me. “The last expired, unopened.”

“That makes me so happy.” It’s been a long time for me, and knowing it has for him as well is a relief. Apparently, I’m jealous of the period before I even knew him.

“And you?” He asks, seeking the same reassurance.

“Mine doesn’t exactly have a best by date,” I remind him with a smirk. Not finding my impertinence amusing, or perhaps because he does, his hand comes down on me, smacking the top of my pussy and making me arch from the pleasure. He stares, waiting for what he wants to hear. “My stash would’ve gone bad, too.”

The darkening of his eyes show how pleased he is with that knowledge. “Good.” Then he rips the wrapper at the corner, withdraws the latex, and slides it over himself. “Where do I belong?” He inquires. And that’s when I realize there are two sides to this man and I’m discovering the same is true of myself. He brings it out in me, the part that not only enjoys his possessiveness, his need to be in charge, but is starting to crave it. Hooking an arm under each knee, I show him, thankful when he begins breaching me. The lack of this kind of activity for the last few years requiring him to take his time as he eases through the tightness.

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