Page 133 of Blue Collar Babes

A huge smile spreads across my face, and I tackle her back onto the bed and kiss her stupid.

We shed the rest of our clothes in a haste to feel skin on skin. I reacquaint myself with every single one of her curves as I lick and nibble a path down her neck, her chest, her breasts, her stomach. When I get to her wet heat, I bury my face between her thighs, and feast.

Her back arches off the bed, and she cries out when I go straight for her clit. Adding one finger, then another, I slide them along her inner wall, remembering all her pleasure points and locating her G-spot by memory. It doesn’t take long before her delirious moans turn into screams of my name as her orgasm sends her flying. And I watch every second of it. The way her back gracefully arches, head thrown back in total surrender, eyes shut tight, her blonde hair spilling like a waterfall over the bedspread. She’s absolutely breathtaking.

Her fingers twist my hair, pulling me up until our faces are only inches apart. My lips touch hers, and she moans again when she tastes herself in our kiss.

“Stop torturing me. I need you. In me. Now.”

Her hands firmly grip my shoulders just as her legs tightly wrap around me, pulling me closer to her heat, her body begging me to fill her. But I’m a greedy man and want more.

“Patience, baby.”

With brushstrokes of my lips along the length of her neck, I savor her jasmine-scented skin before traveling down to her breasts. I pause to tease her nipples with my fingertips, delighting in how they harden into stiff peaks, then spend long minutes kissing and caressing each breast until she’s writhing under me.

“Tate,please.”

I take a nipple into my mouth and lightly bite down, enjoying how her body shudders underneath me.

“Please what?”

She knows what I want to hear. The dirty words I crave.

“Please fuck me.” She reaches between us and circles her hand around my cock, pumping slowly, until I’m the one panting.

“Has there been anyone else?”

Her question may sound casual, but it’s laden with insecurity. She wants to know if I’ve been with another woman. I tried to date. I tried to move on, thinking I would never see her again. But something always stopped me from taking it further with the women I went out with. Four years is a very long time with only my fist to help relieve me.

“No, baby. Only you.”

I hadn’t noticed how tense she’d been while waiting for my reply.

“Me neither.”

Good to know. It wouldn’t have mattered.

Moving carefully at first, I inch inside her slick, tight warmth. She hooks her ankles behind me, and with a sudden thrust forward, I’m seated fully inside her. The sounds coming from Peyton are pornographic. I’m making it my mission to hear those sounds again and again for the rest of our lives.

Our lips melt into one another, our tongues exploring with a slow rhythm that echoes the sensuous pace of our lovemaking. My fingers weave through her hair before drifting down to grab her waist. When I feel her inner walls begin to flutter around my shaft, I pull back and slide her left leg up to rest against my chest, exposing her more fully. I carefully mold my palm around her hip bone to hold her in place and press my weight into her, pushing deeper.

Peyton buries her face in my neck as I pound into her, taking her higher and higher. Telling her with my body how much I love her. That she’s mine. But words are nice, too.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she gasps, then cries out in pleasure as she climaxes.

I nuzzle my face between her breasts as the force of her orgasm obliterates every nerve ending in my body, and I fall off the cliff into bliss right along with her.

Peyton goes boneless in my arms as I kiss her through the aftershocks. We’re slicked with sweat and utterly spent, but her eyes are bright, and her smile is radiant. I’m sure my face wears a matching expression.

Touching a finger to the curve of her mouth, I ask, “Happy?”

“More than happy.”

She loops a piece of my hair behind my ear while I wrap a strand of her wavy hair around my index finger, enjoying how it glides over my knuckle as it unwinds.

“I need a haircut.”

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