She gasps when I push inside the tight entrance.
“It’s okay, baby. Just relax. You feel so good. So soft. So hot.” I find the patch of skin just a few inches in and press upward. I swallow her shriek of surprise and throw my leg over hers to keep her still. “Yeah, that’s the spot, isn’t it?”
She whimpers and shudders and tries to wriggle free when I add another finger. The invasion shocks her at first. Her small virgin canal resists the intrusion, her muscles pushing back, but I thrust deeper, stoking the fire that is spiraling through her. Her hands come up to grip my biceps. Her mouth falls away from mine.
The orgasm possesses her. She throws her head back, arches her spine, and a wail erupts from her mouth, a keening cry of need. I want to tear my jeans off and thrust into her honeyed walls and hammer until my seed floods her womb. I keep pounding her with my fingers until the shuddering stomps and the cries turn to whimpers. I pull out, my hand flooded with her cum.
“Eyes on me, Paislee,” I order.
Her lids fly open at my command, and her gaze fixates on my now-exposed cock. I slap my cum-drenched hand around my shaft and work it hard and fierce. It doesn’t take long for my own orgasm to shoot out my rod. I gather up the cum and shove my fingers back inside of her cunt, mixing my seed with her juice.
“You make the decisions, baby, but just know that you’re mine. From now until forever.”
Chapter Seventeen
Paislee
We make out like two teenagers in front of my grandma’s house. I really don’t want to go home, but I’m also not sure how to call and tell my grandma that. How would I explain that I was skipping out to stay at my boyfriend's house?
I know I’m a grown adult, but I still live with her. So here I am in front of the house making out in the car. The one I’ve been trying to get out of for the last twenty minutes, but we can’t seem to take our mouths off one another. I swear this man's kisses are addictive.
“I don’t want to go inside,” I say between kisses.
“I don’t want you to go inside.” His mouth starts to travel down my neck. “Say you’ll marry me and we’ll be in the same bed every night.” This man is relentless and determined to make me his wife.
“Okay,” I agree, my eyes falling closed. It feels so good when he kisses my neck. It’s my weak spot, and I’m pretty sure he’s figured that out. Or maybe it’s him that makes me weak. His mouth stops kissing me, and he raises his head, the moment he realizes what I’ve just agreed to. “What?” I ask.
A smile spread across his handsome face. “You said yes.” I bite my bottom lip. I guess I did. When Gant’s mouth is on me, I forget about everything else and go with what I want.
“I do want to marry you,” I admit. My life has been crazy these past few months, but when I’m near Gant I feel most like myself. I’m not trying to impress him or make sure I say the right things. I’m just me.
If he wants to marry me, he must like who I am. No words of love have been shared, though. I think you’re supposed to say I love you before you get married, but rich people do all kinds of things differently than I’m used to.
He starts patting down his pockets before coming up with a box. “You have a ring already?” I ask, surprised. He obviously isn’t playing around.
“It’s a family ring.”
I smile, loving the idea of him giving me something sentimental. I’m sure Gant could go out and buy me something fancy, but the fact that he is giving me something from his family makes this feel more real. Maybe he does love me; he just hasn't said it yet.
I know some families don’t use the word often. My mom used it almost every other word, always wanting me to know I was loved. I miss that. I miss her. Telling people the way you feel about them is important because none of us are promised tomorrow. I’ve already made a vow to myself that I would make sure to carry on the way my mom was when I have a family of my own one day.
He pulls out the box, hurriedly lifting the lid to reveal a ring that is fit for a queen. I’m almost scared to touch it. It’s beautiful and delicate. Gant snatches it out of the box, almost dropping it, making me laugh. I never would have believed anything would make this man nervous, but it seems as though he is now.