Never Standing Still (The Never Duet #1)(48)

I gasped at the sensation, his fingers moving over my g-spot so intensely, so acutely, every muscle from my belly button down was tense and moving toward rigid. My knees drew up and my hands reached out and wrapped themselves around his bicep, simply looking for a way to ground me to him. He was going to push me over the edge quickly, I could tell. My body, primed for this for weeks now, was simply not going to last much longer without giving him what he wanted.

Just when I was at the very rim of my orgasm, about to plummet into bliss, he pulled his fingers away and slowly stroked my wetness, up and down. The abrupt change in sensation and tempo had me reeling, keening, and nearly panicked. My body both loved and hated what he’d done; loved the way his wet fingers felt against the hot, warm skin of my labia, but hated the absence of the wound-tight feeling in my core. The feeling was like picking up a music box and turning the dial on the bottom. You turn and turn, and slowly the dial becomes more difficult to move, harder to twist, until you get to a point where it simply won’t turn anymore and you feel like if you were to turn it just one tiny fraction more it would burst and fall apart in a million miniscule fragments. That’s what it was to have Riot’s fingers inside me—like being wound to the point of fissure. Only, just when the glorious point of fracture approached, his fingers retreated, along with my orgasm.

As he used his fingers to lazily spread a trail of my wetness all around my opening, his mouth found my nipple, pulling it in and sucking hard. I mewled, of course, because my body didn’t care about pretenses or politeness around Riot or his mouth and hands. My body simply wanted to find that place where he was going to give me that ultimate high. So when he used his mouth, no matter where, my body was going to agree—quite loudly.

“I could never have imagined how hot it would be to see you like this,” he said, his mouth still pressed against the swell of my breast. “You’re so needy,” he mumbled, taking my nipple in his mouth again. “I want to give you whatever it is you need.”

My response was another moan.

“Tell me what you need.”

“I need you back inside me,” I managed, but only out of necessity. My words barely audible because my body would have performed any number of miracles at that moment to only get him back to the place where his fingers made my world fall away.

“Like this?” he asked as he slid two fingers in again.

“Mmm…,” was my response.

Then his fingers worked inside me while his mouth took my nipple again, and his free hand found mine and our fingers laced together. His hand worked faster, gradually speeding up and applying more pressure until I was crying out and writhing on the bed. His mouth pulled away from my breast and his face lowered to mine, our gazes locking as I panted and brought my hand to his face, holding him there so I could see his caramel-colored eyes as I finally reached my peak.

That familiar ball of tension built in my core, radiating outward, tingling all the way down to my toes. My breath hitched, my heart thundered, and then the wave of release swept through me.

“Yes,” he growled slowly. “That’s it, baby.” He slowly pumped his fingers in and out of me, letting me fall back down to him from my high. “You’re so beautiful when you come,” he said, his lips moving down my throat again as I was still trying to return to normal. “I can’t wait to feel you around my cock, gripping me, clenching like that.”

He pulled his hand from me, then rolled back on top of me, settling between my legs. He kissed me again, this time slow, but deep. When he lifted from me he was holding out the condom.

“Would you like to do the honors?” He was smiling and I couldn’t help but smile back.

I took the condom from him. “Lean back,” I whispered. He did as he was told and sat back on his ankles. When I moved to sit up I realized that in our haste to become naked I hadn’t gotten a good look at him, so I let my eyes wander while I had him at my disposal. His tanned skin looked good in moonlight and his body was simply covered in muscle.

My eyes fell to his cock and my breath caught in my throat. He was gorgeous and perfect, just like I knew he would be: long, thick, but not overwhelming. I reached my hand out to touch him, wanting to feel him without the barrier of the condom. My fingers shook, but when I reached him I confidently wrapped my hand around him and slid all the way down to the base.

He groaned and I smiled, liking the idea that I was making him feel good.

“You’ve got a great dick,” I said as I stroked him up and down.

“He’s never steered me wrong,” Riot said, his eyes closed, head tilted back, obviously enjoying the attention. I swirled my thumb over his head, spreading the milky precum around, watching his face as I touched him. His eyes scrunched closed and he moaned, but then his hands were on my shoulders and his eyes were looking right into mine. “Kal, I’ve got to get inside you, like now.”

I smiled and opened the condom then rolled it down his length, which was even fuller and firmer than before. Once he was covered, he quickly pressed me back into the mattress, one hand gripping me behind my shoulder while the other grabbed my ass and hauled it up toward him.

“Are you all right?” he asked again, his eyes full of affection and concern. He was asking for permission and it was adorable. I wanted every part of him in that moment: his sweetness, his roughness, his ownership. I wanted to be everything to him. But all I could do was bite my bottom lip and nod.