I’m always going to want more.
It’s something I’ve come to terms with over the past few days—even an abundance of Andrew is never enough.
“Fuck, Bree.” His fingers thread into my hair as I suck him deep, deeper, until his thighs tremble on either side of me. “Your mouth is magic.”
“Hmmm ccc i mmcc ooo,” I hum around him, making him laugh-groan as I take him deeper still.
Fisting his hand in the hair at the base of my neck, he draws me up his body. His cock escapes from between my lips, and my nipples whisper across the crisp hairs on his chest as he brings my face level with his. “What was that, beautiful?” he asks, kissing my cheek.
“I said your cock is magic, too. Obviously.”
He smiles. “Obviously. And this here…” He reaches between us, nudging the heel of his palm against my clit as his fingers push inside me, making my breath hitch. “This is heaven. What was that song? From the eighties?”
I capture his lips with mine, moaning into his mouth as he flips us over and spreads my legs wider, granting his skilled fingers easier access. “I have no idea.”
“Yes, you do,” he insists, drawing my nipple into his mouth and sucking.
Chaos swirling in my veins, I shake my head back and forth, my hair slippery on the silk sheets.
God, silk sheets…
Who knew they were this delicious? They have spoiled me for all other bed linen.
Like this man has spoiled me for all other men.
“It’s the one about heaven on earth,” he continues, rolling my nipple lazily between his fingers and thumb as he presses kisses to my other breast and does wicked things between my legs that have me about two seconds from begging him to take me. “It goes something like ‘yeah, baby, you know what you want, yeah, heaven is buried in Sabrina’s cunt.’”
“Oh my God,” I huff, wrenched out of the moment by his ridiculousness. I prop up on my elbows, pinning him with a hard look. “What is wrong with you?”
“So many things.” His eyes dance. “But this time, I just couldn’t think of anything that rhymed with pussy.”
I bite my bottom lip as he flicks his thumb lightly back and forth across my nipple, sending fresh desire tingling down to fist between my legs. “Hussy,” I suggest. “Fussy.”
He clicks his tongue. “No, my darling girl. Those are near rhymes. When it comes to song lyrics, I’m a purist. But I suppose I could have gone in another direction…” He pauses for a beat before he drawls in a Southern American accent, “I don’t need no sweet home Carolina, all I need is Sabrina’s—”
I cut him off with a laugh and fingers pressed to his lips. “Stop. You’re killing the mood.”
“Am I?” He arches a brow as he slides his fingers deeper inside me, hitting that shivery spot that turns me to jelly. “That’s not what your sweet home Carolina is telling me, Sabrina. It’s telling me to keep doing this…” He circles his wrist, grinding against my clit and the humming nerve endings surrounding it. “And this…” He flicks his tongue across my nipple and then bites it, trapping it between his teeth with the perfect amount of pressure. “And this…”
He cups my ass with his free hand, squeezing tight and tugging me closer to him at the same time, the possessive gesture having the effect it always does. My blood rushes faster, hotter, and by the time he finally replaces his hand with his cock—after much pitiful begging and moaning on my part—my head is spinning and my heart singing a Hallelujah chorus.
“God, yes, Drew, you feel so good.” I wrap my legs tight around his hips, pulling him closer at the end of each thrust, so happy I’m overflowing with it.
From the first time Thor and I snuck away to the barn behind his parents’ house to teach each other about the birds and the bees, I knew sex was going to be one of my favorite things. But I never knew it could be like this—so playful and sweet, but bone-melting and honest at the same time. When we’re naked together, Andrew makes me laugh as hard as he makes me come.
And sometimes he makes me cry, too. It’s just that beautiful and real and close with him.
So perfectly close…
I love him so much it would be scary if there were any room for doubt. But there isn’t. His every touch, every kiss, is a promise he feels the same way I do—that we’ve found it. Our refuge. Our sanctuary. Our forever home in each other’s arms.
I come once with him on top, and then again with him behind me, his breath hot on my neck as his hands seem to find every erogenous zone on my body, all at once. And then I lose track of how many times I swirl into the vortex and back out again. I only know that by the time we collapse in a puddle of sweat-slick skin and heavy limbs, I feel like I’ve been filled up with sunshine.