“I’m here, baby. I’m here,” I say, kissing her lips. Making out with her delicious mouth almost makes me forget how close to taking her I am. She raises her hips and my dick hits her opening, warm and inviting and my wildest fucking dream. Her blue eyes fly open at the contact and I see the sweet tenderness that resides there. She reaches between our bodies and grabs me with her hand, guiding me up to her clit and then back to hot center over and over.
I have the fleeting thought that I should lay down and bring her on top of me so she’s in control of this. So she’s the one responsible for the whole thing. Windsor will be the one controlling it, but I don’t because I want this—to know that I have complete control over her, and because somehow I feel like I owe her this after denying her for so long. I’m choosing her.
With her free hand she grabs the side of my face. “Make love to me,” she says. It’s a simple request, though I somehow know nothing will ever be simple when it comes to us.
She lifts her hips up and the head of my dick slides into her. Arching her back, I feel her hands slide down to grab my ass. She pulls me into her a little more. I hiss in raw delight. My head falls into the crook of her neck. I can’t control my breathing or my body. Thrusting until I hit the back, I start moving, like really fucking moving in this tempo that feels so good that I know I’ll have to switch it up soon so I don’t blow my load during the first minute of sex.
“You are so fucking tight. You feel so good,” I rasp at her throat, kissing her, worshipping every centimeter of skin my mouth can find. I’m so consumed with how good she feels that I barely hear her moaning and panting. It’s like the chorus to my favorite song. Windsor’s song. She tilts her hips and meets me thrust for thrust, like we were made to fuck each other. Skin slaps as I change the pace, a pace I know she loves because she’s holding onto my ass to keep me moving.
She turns her head searching for my lips. I kiss her while I fuck her. I’ve never done this before. Well, maybe before I knew what it meant. It feels good. Her tongue licking my tongue while my dick is inside of her makes me feel connected to her in some different way. She’s not a bag. Windsor isn’t a one-night stand with a wet hole and fake tits. I love her. I fucking love her.
Against my lips she moans, “I’m coming, Mav.” Well, I’ll be damned. All it takes is three words out of her mouth and I’m about to snap. Her face isn’t frenzied like it usually is when I use my fingers or mouth to fuck her. It’s different.
“Come for me. Come on my dick. I want to feel you on me,” I say, making sure I keep my dick moving at the same speed. I want this to be perfect for her. I try to think of every uncomfortable situation I’ve ever been in to keep from coming too early. Windsor grabs my ass and pulls it toward her, causing my dick to go all the way in, and then she explodes around me.
No amount of picturing horrible things can stop me when I feel her grabbing me like a vice grip over and over. I let go. I live in the damn moment because it is an epic one. The best one so far. Her head is thrown back and her face is beautiful in this state of ecstasy. I lean down and put one of her pink nipples in my mouth and I come. It tears from me like a fucking fountain, finally flowing after a century of sitting stagnant. My eyes fall shut and I ride the waves of this feeling, with Windsor still screaming my name underneath me.
My dick finally stops twitching and her pussy isn’t clenching me every other second, but I don’t pull out. I want to stay inside her as long as humanly possible. I want this to be where my dick is every second of every day. I don’t think three times a day will be enough to satisfy this hunger I have for her.
“One word,” Windsor whispers as she drags her hands through my hair. Love. Love. Love. I love everything about what just happened, about what is still happening.
I heave a sigh. “Finally,” I admit. She laughs and the sound makes me even more delirious with love from my new position. It’s like I’m inside of the sound and inside of her at the same time. “Your one word.”
Her hands stop moving. Her breaths stop. She’s going to tell me she loves me. She has to. I know that was just as mind bending for her as it was for me. “Ruined,” she finally says, laughing.
What. The. Fuck.
Before I can ask what the hell that means, she says, “I know why every girl you’ve had sex with is obsessed with you. You are like a sex God, with your big cock and perfect sex manners. You ruin it for all the other men in the world.”
“Sex manners?”
I feel her nod against me. “It’s all about me. I didn’t have to do anything and you knew exactly what to do. Was it as freaking fantastic for you as it was for me? I have to say, I’ve been thinking about sex with you for a long time and it’s even better than my brain could concoct,” she explains. I feel her gripping my dick. A few more of those and I’ll be at full attention again in no time. She’s wondering if sex was good for me? Was she not in the same room?
“Windsor, I had to think about horrible things so I wouldn’t come the second my dick slid home.” I lean up on my elbows and look into her eyes. She smiles a half smile. “That’s the first time I’ve had to do that. That’s for sure. That,” I say, pushing my dick inside of her a little more, making her eyes flutter closed, “was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It was earth moving.” How’s that for a Mav ramble?
She moans a little from the pressure and my dick is officially hard again. Ready for a second round. That happened a time or two in high school, but definitely not anytime in the recent past. It’s a testament to my new addiction. I slide out of her long enough to put a new condom on, and ease back into her tight warmth. Flipping her around without disconnecting our bodies, I position her so she’s on top of me. A lusty smile inches its way across her beautiful face and then she starts riding me like a fucking pro. Her tits bouncing, her hair swinging, one hand resting on my new tattoo, and her blue eyes fixed on mine.
And maybe for the millionth time I change my mind about my favorite sight.
Chapter Eighteen
Windsor
His hands on my hips are so rough and feel so warm…almost as hot as the fire spreading through my veins. I am working him like I’ve never worked a day in my freaking life. Bouncing up and down on his humungous, thickness feels incredible. Not because it feels better than I imagined, but because he’s looking at me like he’s completely and utterly in love with my every move, every inch of my body—and me.
He’s in love with me. He said so. And I didn’t say it back. I’m not sure if I can. Because I can’t describe what I feel for him—it feels like more than love. Until I can formulate it into words, without rambling, I’ll keep my mouth shut. I haven’t said it to a single soul since Nash. Now I’m not even sure love is what I felt for him.
“You ride me so good, babe,” Maverick growls. His neck is strained and every damned, huge, sculptured muscle that exists inside his body is popping out to tell me hello. The sight of him under me is burned into my mind for eternity. Maverick changes the pace by controlling my hips with his hands. “Feels so good. Feels so fucking tight,” he hisses. It is almost too tight. The timbre of his voice combined with the perfect pressure he’s rocking me with is all it takes. A jolt shoots straight to my core and I close my eyes.
Fireworks and rockets red glare? Yeah, that’s what having an orgasm around Maverick feels like. There is no controlling my screams, or the stream of obscenities that leak from my mouth. I feel his hands on my nipples, twisting, pulling, making my orgasm last that much longer. When I come back down from that thigh tingling, lusty place, I make a breathy plea, staring directly into his fierce eyes.
“Come, Mav. Come.” He must have been holding back because the second the words escape my mouth, he bucks his hips a few more times and, with a roar befitting a beast, he comes. My gaze lands on his new “love” tattoo and a shiver laced with excitement and possessiveness rocks me to my core.
I slump down, leaving him inside me, and put my head on his chest so I can continue staring at my claim on his body.
“You’re everything, Mav,” I say, praying he knows exactly what I mean by it. I mean what he meant by it before he could say the actual word. I feel him nod against the top of my head. Finally, our breathing evens out the same time he pulls out of my body. It’s this wordless comfort I have lying in his arms, all sated and my stomach full of butterflies. I have nothing to compare this to, because I was never in this deep with another person. I’ve never felt so proprietary about anything else. Maverick rolls the condom off and then retrieves the other used one off the floor with a grimace. I can’t help but laugh. “It’s yours. You can’t really be that grossed out by it, can you?”
“I prefer it in the condom and not on the floor,” he explains, eyebrows scrunched together. I jump out of bed, feeling light on my feet. He watches me with a smile and says, “I’ll deal with it though. I’d deal with jizz dripping from my fucking ceiling if it means I get to do that, with you, every day of my life.” Now he’s laughing, because I’m grimacing. The jizz dripping image kind of gets to me. The dimples are out and paired with his exquisite naked body they war for my attention.
