Dirty, delicious words said to me. Saidbyme.
That first night he unlocked something inside my body. Now, my mind is getting in on it too. I’m connecting all the dots to discover the way I crave him in bed.
I crave his body and his mouth.
He grips my hips, and he delivers on his promise. With long, deep thrusts, he fucks me hard.
Pleasure twists inside me in a fiery swirl as I brace myself on my palms. Ideas flash before me in a heated reel.
“Smack my ass,” I say, taking another chance.
“Fuck yes,” he growls, raising a hand and swatting the fuck out of me.
Oh!
That hurts so good.
“Again,” I urge, craning my neck to watch him. It’s erotic and wicked as he lifts that strong arm, raises that big hand, and his palm connects with my flesh again.
It stings, but the pain radiates straight to my core, thrumming through my clit.
“More,” I beg.
Again and again, he swats me, cheek to cheek. “You like that? You like it hard and rough?”
“I do,” I pant as I spiral into a wild, crescendo.
Electricity flares in me, then throbs in my center.
One more hard smack. I fly off the cliff, losing my mind to this moment.
Seconds later, he’s nailing me, and it’s intense, so intense I’m not sure I can withstand the pleasure.
He’s groaning, mumblingoh fuck, yes, so good.
Then he slams into me on a deep, dizzying thrust and roars, “Yes, fucking yes.”
A new wave of pleasure crests as if a heightened aftershock of my own orgasm mingles with his. Is that a thing? As I curl my toes, it feels like a thing.
Everything feels wild and passionate as we pant and moan.
I’m not sure I’ll ever float down from this high. But there’s a new high coming my way when he gently moves my face so he can press a tender kiss to my lips. Then the back of my neck.
Now my hair. “Be right back,” he whispers.
When he eases out and heads to the kitchen to toss the condom, I sink onto my side on the couch.
A few seconds later, he returns, his jeans pulled up but still undone. His hair is a mess. His clothes too. But his lopsided grin makes my heart squeeze.
I pat the couch. “Stay.”
He flops next to me. “I want to.”
“Because you want me to cook for you,” I tease.
His expression turns fully earnest as he shakes his head. “I like your cooking. But I really like you.”
My heart squeezes harder. “Same here,” I say.