He liked it, too, I assume, because after tenderly licking the spot, he growled. Actually growled. I’ve never made a man growl before, and if asked, I probably wouldn’t have been interested. But here? With Simon? Hell yes. I’m up for anything. That primal, guttural sound emanating from the throat of the gorgeous man whose strong fingers are cupping my breasts, whose teeth are biting my flesh, whose tongue is soothing each bite? It’s seriously turning me on.
He wraps his arm around my waist, and instantly, I wish I’d done more sit-ups. Well, any sit-ups. But Simon doesn’t seem bothered by my waist as he hoists me up on his counter with ease and slides his hands back under my skirt. I spread my thighs wide, allowing him to tease my core once again. He shoves my panties aside and thrusts two fingers into me, growling again as my arousal pools at my center. I’ve never been this close to orgasm in a kitchen in my life. Who am I kidding? I’ve never been this close this fast in my life, and this momentous occasion just happens to be occurring in Simon Walker’s blindingly- yellow breakfast nook.
“Lainie?”
All I can manage is a breathy “uhhh?”
“The first time we have sex will not be on my kitchen countertop, I promise.”
Honestly, that’s a little disappointing, but I’m distracted from my momentary despair by the sight of Simon dropping to his knees, scooting me to the edge, pulling my panties down, and pressing his face unabashedly to my center. “But the first time you come for me definitely will be.”
Damn.
I tilt my head back in ecstasy, fully knowing that I’m babbling incoherently and not caring in the least, as his tongue alternately laps and lunges against me. I grip my hands in his head of curls and hold on tight. I come harder than I ever have, shouting his name and panting like the wanton hussy I apparently am.
LEGALLY CHANGE MY NAMEto Wonderboy? I want to reply with a witty remark. Maybe tell her I’ll get a tattoo instead or tell her she has yet to see wonder, but then she fists my cock at the base and takes me deep in her mouth. Words? Who has words at a time like this? Not me. She pumps me with one hand, and with the other, she touches herself. Fuck. I’m two seconds from coming if she keeps that up. Her hand wet with her body’s arousal, she strokes me harder, faster, and so damn good.
“Fucking fuck, Lainie.”
“What’s that?” she practically purrs.
“Fucking...Oh sweet mother of...Condoms.”
“Sweet mother of what now?”
“Condoms. In the drawer. On the left. New box. Fuck, Lain, give me your mouth one more time.”
She reaches beyond me, and I nearly weep at the loss of contact, but she’s quick, and she tosses the foil-wrapped condom onto my chest as she wraps her lips around me once again, her cheeks going hollow each time she pulls back, just to plunge forward again. I can’t take it. I tug on her hair, pulling her up close as I reach between us and roll the condom on. She straddles my hips and takes me slowly, inch by inch.
Elaine Madigan is riding me like a cowgirl. It’s a moment I’ve waited a long time for (seven months, if you’re counting). It’s a moment I’ve imagined many more times than is likely healthy. A moment I hope to repeat a million more times. I’m living for every second, every movement, every pull, every slide. Her nails dig in to my shoulders, but the pain feels good. Her hair sweeps down, tickling my face, but I can’t care. The only thing my body responds to is the sensation of her lush body sinking onto my dick. I damn near lose my mind as she grinds against the base of my cock then pulls herself up, squeezing me as she goes. This pattern continues and all of me concentrates on every part of her.
I grab her ass, take a moment to mentally pinch myself, and then I thrust into her one final time, igniting her orgasm as well as my own.
I’M SITTING CROSS-LEGGEDin Simon Walker’s bed, wearing only a t-shirt and a smile. And the t-shirt is emblazoned with that little R2D2 guy and is captioned “This is how I roll!” And I’m eating a cupcake. In bed. And I don’t give a flying fuck about crumbs or calories.
What in the hell has happened to me in the last three hours, you may ask?
Well, I’ll tell you.
I’ve been thoroughly, deliciously satisfied.
I’ve forgotten to worry about the state and sight of my thighs.
I’ve laughed harder than that time Molly dragged me to an all-night stand-up comedy marathon.
The bed dips as Simon settles back in, a plate of fresh cupcakes in tow. “My nana makes the best peanut butter frosting in the universe. She also decorates exclusively in large floral patterns, but after one bite of her chocolate peanut butter cupcakes, I seriously don’t care what she puts on my walls.”
“So your mom and your nana decorated your place?”
“Yep. My sisters contributed by giving me stuff they no longer wanted. For awhile there, I had three toasters. “
“That’s...handy…if you’re obsessed with toast”
“I do enjoy a nicely toasted rye, but not three toasters’ worth. I donated two of them to Goodwill.”
“Good choice.”
“Katie, my oldest sister, would disagree. She was pissed because hers was one of the ones I gave away. She wouldn’t speak to me for a week.”
