Page 57 of Beyond Friendship

“I really like your chest,” I whisper.

“It was much nicer before,” he replies.

The vulnerability in his tone tugs at my heartstrings, making me aware of all he has gone through. When I lean forward, he holds his breath, and his body tenses as I plant a kiss on the thin scar that carries so many emotions. Hoping to bring him back to a state of contentment, I jokingly remark.

“Women find men with a scar fascinating. So don’t worry, your sex appeal has increased by two points.”

He chuckles and his muscles relax. “So I’m a perfect eleven now? I can live with that.”

My fingertips graze up and down his steel-hard shaft, eliciting a throaty growl of pleasure. Like he did, I drop to my knees and press my lips to him, tasting the delectable saltiness of his arousal. His body quivers in response as I swirl my tongue around the sensitive tip, taking pleasure from every moan that escapes his lips. He tightens his grip on my hair and orders, “Look at me.” I raise my eyes and am greeted by the blazing fire in his irises.

I continue licking and sucking him, delighting in his rough gasps and sharp intakes of breath before tightening my grip around his base and taking him deeper into my mouth. I love seeing how each stroke of my tongue drives him closer to the edge. His hips thrust forward with a primal urgency that makes my core clench in anticipation as he warns, “Amanda, if you keep going this way, I’m gonna blow.” Since that is exactly what I want, I continue. Having understood my answer, he rocks his hips and tangles his fingers deeper into my hair. As I reach the bottom of his shaft, I glance upward and enjoy watching him being lost to pleasure with his head tilted back.

After a few strokes, he looks down and sees me opening my mouth wider, granting him entry. He drives his cock deeper, and I relax into the rhythm of his thrusts by taking deep breaths through my nose, but a little gagging sound escapes me.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, pulling out of my wet embrace.

“Don’t be. I love it when you do that.”

“God, can you be any more perfect?” he says before letting out a “fuck” when my tongue leisurely circles his tip, to lap up the pre-cum before sliding my lips back down his hard length. His body trembles with pleasure and I swoon at the knowledge that I am the one responsible for the thrill coursing through him. As he edges closer to the climax, our eyes meet—a silent understanding passing between us—and with two powerful thrusts, he releases with a deep grunt.

A few moments later, he pulls me up and frames my face in his hands. “You,” he breathes, “are remarkable.”

A blush coats my cheeks. His arms wrap around me, and he pulls us back under the showerhead. Here we stand in a tender embrace, wherein we let our hands stroke each other’s skin in calm but tantalizing movements.

“It’s clear we’re a good match when it comes to oral sex,” I breathe against his neck.

He pulls away and I can feel the intensity of his gaze burning into me. “Were you questioning that?”

I shrug. “Maybe for a second. You can never be sure.”

“Well, I didn’t. I knew from the moment we met our bodies would be a perfect fit.”

“Well, aren’t you being a cocky peacock, Mister Fox?”

He grins devilishly. “I take being a peacock over being an arrogant, cockless rooster any day.”

My laughter echoes off the walls as I recall Steven and his quirks.If he only knew.

“Okay, Mister Confidence. You might have shown your oral talents, but don’t call yourself king just yet, Fox.”

“Bed and condoms. Now,” he commands, flipping the water switch off and dragging me to his bed. Moments later, his body pushes mine back into the black sheets, and he hovers over me.

“It’s time,” he whispers with a teasing smirk, “to show you I can fuck you better than in all the fantasies you had about me.”

With a wicked grin, he reaches into the nightstand drawer and throws a handful of condoms onto the bed before ripping open a packet and rolling it on with practiced hands. “Might need all of these,” he says, his dark gaze sending blazing heat through my body.

I love his playful, yet confident persona. His gaze meets mine, and in that single moment, I’m mesmerized by the intensity of it.

His voice drops to a whisper as he grabs my hands and pins them next to my face before saying, “But know this—you and I will never be just sex, Brownie.”

My heart races and I know by the way he says this, he’s serious and not just trying to swoon me with his words. I intertwine our fingers before pressing my lips to his. “I know.” And with that said, the heat flames up between us. I moan into his mouth when he rubs his hardness against my slick entrance. My need to feel him inside of me swells, and I wrap my legs around his waist.

“Please,” I whisper, and he responds by entering me with one deep thrust. Our movements synchronize in this primal and passionate dance, wherein his length moves, amplifying the waves of pleasure that wash through my core with every stroke. His hands keep mine pinned to the mattress as he continues, driving me mad.

“More,” I plead, arching my back as delightful shivers shoot up and down my spine as he moves like he wants to consume me whole.

“Yes!” I cry out. My inner walls quake in response to each of his thrusts until the fervent tension mounts to the point of no return.

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