TWENTY-SEVEN
Mila
From every angle,this man is deliciously big. With me on top, squeezing him between my thighs, his size and strength hit different. Everywhere and every which way.
I love kissing him. I love making out with him. And oh my god, the things he does to my pussy, mouth, and nipples. My entire being is flushed with heat.
With Ozzie’s hard length nestled between my folds, I run my hands all over his chest, his tummy. He’s both soft and hard, powerful and cozy. I give in to the instinct to thrust, riding that length. Wetting it with my essence.
I want to touch him everywhere. I pass my fingertips around his face, tracing those sensuous lips, lightly dragging them along his too-long eyelashes, his scruffy jawline. The skin there is pink from scrubbing my pussy until I came so fucking hard.
Arching my back, I reach backward and massage his thighs, reaching behind me to cup his balls. Ozzie sucks a breath through his teeth; my name falls from his lips with a rattle.
“Fuck, Mila.”
I let go of his balls and play at the split between his cheeks, and his grayish-silver eyes blaze with need for me.
Nothing in this world can arouse me like seeing this man pleading with me.
I let him watch me rub my hands over my tits, squeeze my nipples, run my palm up over my chest, neck, and back down to dip my fingers into my pussy, then use my juice to coat my lips. He watches all of this, softly whispering my name and cursing.
I bite my lip, sucking in my own juice, savoring my own essence while he watches.
He groans my name, and I know it’s time.
Coming up on my knees, I take the tip inside my passage, just a little, just a kiss. Ozzie’s face goes tight while I use my cunt to tease, pull him in then spit him back out.
His groans grow louder with every touch, every time I take him in deeper. Here, we don’t have to be quiet. Here, there are no siblings who can hear us play. I’m happy about that. I’m delighted to experience the real Ozzie letting himself go.
Seated on him completely, I keep still for a moment while I let him feel me squeeze. Bearing down, I feel him stretch me, fit me as I mold around him. It’s so big, but the pleasing sting is temporary.
I’ve never felt so full, so perfectly filled, with anyone else. I’ve never carried this many emotions into a sexual encounter. Shit, I’ve barely been able to make eye contact with anyone fucking me before tonight.
Ozzie blinks up at me, then takes one of my hands in his. He brings my hand to his mouth, closes his eyes, and kisses it. One kiss for each of my five knuckles. My heart races. I don’t swoon, as a rule, but I’m swooning.
“Mila. I love you. I love you, Mila. I love you, and I’m never going to stop saying it. I’m going to marry you, and I’m going to kiss you like this every day and keep telling you how much I love you until the day I die.”
I freeze. “Don’t…don’t talk about death.”
His eyes go wide. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking….”
Shaking my head, I reassure him, “It’s not that, it’s…I can’t stand thinking about you dying.”
He lets go of my hands and flattens his palms against my thighs. “And I can’t stand the thought of living a single day without you.”
“Ozzie. You said one night.” Even as I say this, I know it’s a farce. I know I will not get rid of him no matter how much I tell myself that.
“You knew that was a lie, right?”
I nod and feel a sting at the back of my eyes. “Fuck, I’m not going to cry.”
“Then don’t. Just accept that you’re stuck with me and let me take care of you,” he breathes.
I nod, blinking rapidly, barely ready for the grind.
I yelp in surprise when I start to rise under the tremendous strength of this man’s pelvis.
“Ozzie!”