The Knocked Up Plan(44)
“How was that wrong? That’s what I always want.”
“And you’ll get it. But you come first. Always.”
He stares at me with such heat in his eyes, such fire in the blue sky of his irises. I’ve never felt so wanted in my life. It floors me that I asked him to give me something tremendous, and yet here I am with a man who’s ravenous for me. He climbs over me, straddling my thighs as he runs a hand up and down his gorgeous cock. I writhe as I watch him.
“You like this, baby?” He grips himself with a tight fist.
“Yes. God, yes.”
“You want it, don’t you?”
I lift my hips in answer. He stares down at the wetness between my legs. His throat rumbles. “So fucking pretty.”
“Please,” I moan, begging.
His hand slides up and down his hard-on. “In my game, we’ve just landed on make her come.”
Twenty-Two
Ryder
Her eyes give her away.
She wants me to make her scream in pleasure.
She always does. I’ve learned in this short time with her that she’s as addicted to orgasms as I’m hooked on giving them to her.
I’ve got her pinned like this, her attention solely on my dick. “I want you so fucking wet. So fucking crazy.” I stroke from the base to the head, and her back arches.
“Ryder, please.”
“Please what?”
“Please give it to me.”
I shake my head. I grip harder and tighter, rocking my fist up and down my cock.
Her breath comes in fast, erratic pants. I want to tease her so badly. I want her wild with desire. “Don’t let me do this alone,” I say.
Her brows knit together. “You’re not going to jerk off on me, are you?”
I nearly laugh at how worried she seems over the prospect of spilled seed. Coming on her chest would be pointless for her during this “window.” I grab her hand, wrapping it around mine. I move our joined hands up and down my shaft. For a brief second, I am damn tempted to finish the job and jack off all over those glorious tits. “You’d look so good wearing my come all over your chest,” I tell her with a groan as we stroke my cock together.
“No,” she says with a desperate cry.
The image turns me on so much that a drop of liquid beads at the head of my cock. I swipe it with my thumb and bring it to her lips. “Suck it off,” I tell her as I push my thumb into her mouth.
She wraps those sexy red lips nice and tight around my thumb and sucks off the first taste of me. My dick grows even thicker. I bring my hand back to my cock and play with myself some more.
“Touch yourself, baby. I want to watch you get yourself off.”
Her hand shoots between her legs, and I scoot back, parking myself between her knees. Her legs are a V and her fingers fly over her wet clit.
“Oh God,” she cries out as she arches into her fingers. It hits me like a flash of light in a darkened room. She’s so turned on she’s nearly there.
“You’re going to come, baby, aren’t you?”
She bites her lip and nods. Her face twists in exquisite torture. Her fingers fly over her pussy, and I have a front-row seat to the hottest show in town. I jack harder, faster. This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
In seconds, she goes off. She rocks her hips against her hand. “Oh God, I’m coming.”
Her beautiful body writhes and twists and bucks, and I can’t wait. I move up her, wedging myself between her gorgeous thighs. I bury myself in her and groan. Her wetness envelops me, and it feels so fucking good. “Nicole,” I murmur as I lower my chest to her. “You’re so sexy when you come.”
“So are you.”
She’s even sexier when she comes twice, and I’m determined to bring her a double. I slow the pace, ease in and out. I swivel my hips, and bring her back up the hill. With each thrust, she pants harder. She moans louder.
“Yes, baby. Give it to me. Come again. I want it so bad.”
She digs her nails into my back and pulls me deeper, matching me thrust for thrust. Her hips rise in one long, gorgeous lift, and she falls apart. Her eyes squeeze shut, and she calls my name as she comes again.
Something in me rattles loose.
Pleasure, but also more than that. Something I haven’t felt in ages.
Intimacy.
Rather than fight it, I let it pull me under. I let it become part of us tonight. I reach for her hand, thread my fingers through hers, and I sink deep inside her as I climax.
When we both come down from the high, we’re still holding hands. I don’t want to let go.
“Like spin the bottle,” she whispers as she stares at our linked fingers, a reverent look in her eyes.
“Yes. Just like spin the bottle.”
We’re silent as we lie there, me collapsed on her, but I don’t want to move, and she doesn’t seem to want me to. Her other hand travels to my hair, and she runs her fingers through it. “Do you want to stay the night?”
“That’s not on the spin-the-bottle board,” I say with a husky laugh.
“I know.”
I raise my face from her shoulder and meet her eyes. I’m not a clueless guy. I’m not a twenty-something playboy who doesn’t know what emotions are when they smack him in the face. I’m thirty-two, with a degree in psychology and a career based on a fine understanding of what happens between men and women when they come together.