“Fuck, I could do this all day,” I tell her, my finger drawing lazy patterns before thrusting back inside her.
“Maybe you should,” she says on a gasp.
I love how worked up she’s getting, how her breaths are uneven as she braces her hands on my shoulders. My fingers continue their exploration as she presses her body closer to mine. “Can you take one more?” I ask.
“Yes,” she pants as I pull my finger out of her channel and rub her sweet entrance with the pads of two fingers before entering her once again. My thick, long fingers stretch her in the best way.
“Fuck,fuck,” she curses, holding me close and biting down on my shoulder. The pinch I feel when her teeth nip at my skin does something to me—something I’ve never felt before. A bolt of lust shoots through me when she bites down again, harder this time. My dick gets impossiblyharder and whether it’s from the playful biting or the fact that she’s so damn wet I can feel it everywhere, I’m not sure. And I don’t care.
“You’re taking my fingers so fucking good, Claire,” I say, my voice low and gravelly as I thrust deep, curling my middle finger and tapping it lightly against her inner wall. She stills for a moment, but the tightening of her grip on my shoulders and the flood of wet heat between her thighs let me know she’s feeling good, just the way I want her to.
“Stop talking and start fucking—oh, shit!” She mutters a curse as I tap her inner walls again, this time while the palm of my hand makes tight little circles on her clit. I’m not even trying to get her off, not really. I’m just trying to get her to moan again, to squeeze my fingers so tight, to close her eyes and let her mouth fall open as she lets her body surrender to mine.
But Claire’s not going to let me lead, that much is clear when she wrests her body away from mine just to sink down onto my cock, taking me inch by inch. It knocks the breath right out of me.
“Holy fuck, you’re—oh, fuck.” Her words trail off as I grip her hips and pump into her. I can’t get enough of Claire Fowler. Her hands toy with my hair while her lips blaze a trail from my jaw to my throat. She’s licking and sucking, and I want more of everything—more of this, more of her. Moving my hands to her backside, I cup her ass and let my head tilt back as she grinds her body down onto mine. I watch as she takes what she wants from me, as she milks my body. I pay attention to the way she sways her hips, the way she rubs her swollen clit across the base of my dick, the way her breasts bounce with every back-and-forth motion. I’m memorizing every move, letting the secret to her pleasure imprint itself onto the blank slate of my brain.
Because no one before Claire matters.
I’m not dumb enough to say that out loud, but I’d be lying to myself if I pretended like things haven’t shifted between us, at least on my end. But I can fantasize about all that later. Right now, I’ve got a beautiful woman naked in my arms.
Acting on instinct, I suck one of her nipples into my mouth, greedily devouring it like I’m starving and might die if I don’t get a taste of her. A taste of her—god, that’s what I want—to taste her lips, her tits, and that sweet fucking pussy. The thought has my dick swelling, which causes Claire to gasp.
“What the hell are you doing to me?” she asks, breathless.
“Fucking you,” I say, rocking up into her. “Just like you wanted.”
Her inner muscles clench, holding my dick hostage for a few glorious seconds. How long does it take for Stockholm Syndrome to set in? And are cocks particularly susceptible? She lifts her hips a few inches before sinking back down on me. Holy god. A few more rounds of this and I’m gonna fill this fucking condom.
“I find you almost tolerable when you do what I want you to,” she says, a ghost of a smile on her lips.
“Yeah?” I ask, arching my hips up to meet her as she glides back down on my cock. “What about when I do this?” My right hand hovers over her mound, gently grazing the neatly trimmed patch of hair there and sending a shiver through Claire’s body. My thumb slides back between her folds and zeros in on the sensitive bundle of nerves there. I steady her with an arm on her back as I drive my cock into her and flick my thumb on her swollen clit with each pass. She gets so wet for me, and I can’t getenough. Her breaths are coming in shorter pants as I feel that familiar tingle at the base of my spine.
“Pete,” she gasps, my name a desperate plea on her pretty pink lips. “Ohfuckpete.”
Claire’s rocking onto my body and my brain is so scrambled that it takes me a second to realize what’s happening. My orgasm is seconds away, but that’s not what has my attention. All my focus is on Claire as her eyes widen and her lips part. Her nails dig into my arms as her walls close around my dick. She shudders and cries out while her body squeezes my cock. The ripples of her orgasm ignite mine and I ride it out, pumping into her over and over, until I’m completely spent.
We’re sweaty and sticky and probably still damp from the storm.
We’re two people who don’t get along but just shared the greatest sex of our lives.
We’re too fucking good at this. Too explosive together. Too perfect for each other. At least, when we’re naked.
Claire looks at me, her eyes glazed over in the afterglow. “You bastard,” she says, swatting my chest. There’s no force behind the smack, but I rub the spot anyway.
“Ouch. I just gave you an orgasm. How does that make me a bastard?”
She huffs. “It doesn’t, which is exactly why it does,” she says, like I’m supposed to understand. “It also makes you a unicorn, I guess.”
That visual makes me laugh. “I’m one big-ass unicorn.”
Claire furrows her brow at me. “Not really. Aren’t horses at least a thousand pounds? And they are cousins with the unicorn, so it stands to reason they’d be similar sizes.”
“So what? That makes me the world’s smallest unicorn?”
She bites her lip to stop from smiling, then she looks down at my lap, where we’re still joined. And I’m still half-hard.
Claire flexes her inner muscles, giving my tired cock a squeeze. “I’ve got to be honest, Pete. I don’t think you’re the world’s smallest anything.”
