The Private Serials Box Set(36)
Our sweat-sticky bodies clung to one another, our breath coming in rapid pants, and he melted into me, his muscles going lax, relaxing on top of me. I took his weight gladly, reveled in it, and loved the feeling of him surrounding me in every way possible.
Once we’d both settled, he rolled off me, moving to press his front against me and pulling my back against him. His arm came to rest over the curve of my waist and he searched for my hand. He found it and threaded his fingers through mine, linking them. His foot snagged the comforter from the foot of the bed, which had become a rumpled mess during our exploits. He kicked it up and I grabbed the edge with my free hand, pulling it up to our chests, covering us.
“Sleep,” he mumbled against my ear right before he kissed me there. I was too tired to respond, so I let myself drift away.
Chapter Three
I was pulled from a very deep sleep by Preston’s fingers trailing through my cleft. At first he was gentle, trying to rouse me from sleep without startling me. But he grew more insistent in his rubbing and I woke fully aroused and panting. My hand gripped his wrist instinctively, my eyes opening to find his as a moan escaped me.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” was all he said as my eyes asked a million questions. Then his thumb found my clit and my eyes closed on a groan, and all the questions I had floated away. “That’s right,” he said with a voice so low and sexy I nearly came just listening to him. “Let me give you what you need and then I’m going to take what I want.”
His words skyrocketed me into orgasm. It was a fast, quick, earth-shattering high, but it felt f*cking fantastic.
“Good girl,” he said with a sly grin. I tried to reply but was interrupted by his hands on my hips. He pulled out and then flipped me onto my stomach. “On your knees, Lena.” I would have complied, but found myself being forced into the position by him, and that, unexpectedly, sent a shiver of excitement through me. Him handling me, putting me where he wanted me, demanding things of me, turned me on instantly.
His hand was on my back between my shoulder blades and he pressed me gently into the mattress.
“Lena, baby, I want you to hold on to the slats in the headboard for me. Hold on tight and lock your elbows.” His hand caressed my back along my spine, all the way down to my ass, as I reached forward and did as he asked. “Last night was fantastic, but today, I’m going to f*ck you like I’ve imagined since I met you.”
I took in a shuddering breath, his words having a physical effect on me. I straightened my arms and locked my elbows.
“Keep your arms straight, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Okay,” I mumbled, half into the pillow that was fluffed up around my face. His hand slid back up my spine and curl around my shoulder, his touch gentle until his grip became firm. Then I cried out, half in surprise and half in ecstasy, as he slammed into me.
“Fuck,” he groaned, paused for the moment so deep in me; I could feel his scrotum up against the sensitive skin of my lips. “Are you all right?” His question was quiet and concerned.
“I’m fine,” I managed. I wanted to tell him that I was f*cking perfect, or so entirely fantastic with him filling me, but fine was all I could get out.
He took my ‘fine’ as an affirmative and began his onslaught of f*cking. I immediately understood why he wanted my elbows locked, and I savored all the sensations that came when I used my arms to push my ass into his thrusts. He pounded away, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me farther onto him, muttering obscenities that did nothing but turn me on even more.
“Your * was f*cking made for me,” he said between thrusts. “Your beautiful cunt belongs to me now,” was followed by, “Jesus, you feel so f*cking fantastic on my dick, Lena.” He was filthy and dirty and he was right: my body loved every single second of it and it did belong to him. I was a goner.
He came in a roar, growling through his release. One hand gripped my hip, the other curled over my shoulder, pressing himself so entirely into me, I was gasping.
This time, when he collapsed onto the bed next to me, neither one of us moved toward the other. I was fighting to catch my breath and he was doing the same. I couldn’t exactly figure out why I was out of breath—he’d done all the hard work. But taking him like that had been too exhilarating and I’d lost myself in him.
Eventually, he did turn his head toward me, my face still pushed deep into his fluffy pillows.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
“Mmmhmmm,” was my response.
“Lena, please, I need some actual words.”
I groaned, but then lifted my head from his heavenly pillow and stated, “I’m fantastic, thank you.” Then I plopped my head back down and enjoyed the afterglow. He chuckled, but then there was silence and I settled in again.
After a few minutes, the bed shifted and I watched as Preston walked his naked self into his attached bathroom. Luckily for me, I didn’t have to move my head at all to watch his entire trip as his gloriously chiseled body gracefully left me. He was exactly what God had envisioned when he created man; I was sure of it. Every muscle moved in accordance with the others; long and lean muscles in his legs complemented the bulkier muscles in his chest and arms. I knew I’d never be able to look at him in his leather jacket and jeans again without picturing him like this, naked and strutting through his house.