Satisfaction Guaranteed(39)

A small cry. A gasp. A whoosh of air.

She moans, her voice full of filthy wonder, rich with dirty joy. “I’m coming.”

This.

This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Sloane, losing control, for real.

Coming undone with me, for me.

As her voice breaks and she hits that high, I know with a crisp certainty that I want to do this to her again and again.

I can’t get enough of this woman.





*



Soon enough, she comes down from her orgasm, her eyes flickering open, looking sex-drunk and happy as a cat stretching in the sunniest spot in the house.

Slowly, I ease the toy out of her, setting it on the bed.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and it sounds full of reverence, as if I’ve given her a great gift.

“All I did was hit the on button,” I say with a playful shrug.

Letting go of the headboard, she sits up and grabs my face. “That was everything. You made me feel like I was flying. Like I was free. Like I could let go and give in. I’ve never felt that . . . open.”

Holy hell.

I’m king of the world.

She makes me feel ten feet tall.

She slides her hand down my body. Her soft hand on my hard cock is too much. It’s going to unravel me, make me lose all willpower.

But we aren’t going there yet.

I shake my head, removing her hand. “We’re not having sex.”

“Please.” She wiggles against me, and I nearly surrender. I’m ready to throw my plans out the window just to get inside her.

But that’d be selfish. I can’t stick my dick inside her to get off.

When I sleep with her again, I need to believe I can send her soaring. “We need more practice. I want to make you come in every other way first.”

She pouts, then drags a hand up her belly, tracing a seductive path along her flesh. Stopping between her tits, she plays with a hard nipple. “You don’t have to put your cock inside me.”

My mouth goes dry as she slides her other hand between her legs, stroking a few times before she brings it between her breasts, coating them with the evidence of her own orgasm. “Why don’t you fuck me here?”

I’m a lightning bolt of lust.

What am I going to say to that but hell to the fucking yes?

In no time, I straddle her, slide my hand between her legs to gather more of the goodness, then slick some along my cock. She pushes her breasts together, and I jerk forward, sliding my length between those gorgeous globes.

It’s the most perfect valley, and when her tits cradle my dick, I’m sure, I’m positively fucking sure, it’s not going to take me long at all.

Because I’m a gentleman, I give her a warning. “This is going to be pretty fast.”

She lifts her face, her lips all swollen and sexy. “Come quickly. Come slowly. Just come on me.”

True to my word, I’m nearly there already. A couple of thrusts, a couple of strokes, and my already aching dick is singing a happy tune, ready to blast off. My vision blurs, and my world spirals into pure bliss as I come on her chest.

The release is exhilarating and exactly what I need.

I shudder, grunting her name, grunting God’s name, panting hard. She reaches down, drags a finger between her breasts, and shoots me a naughty stare as she licks her fingertip. “Maybe I just wanted to be a dirty girl.”

“You picked the right guy. Now let’s clean you up.” I take her to the shower, and I wash her off. She seems to savor the attention, and it makes me realize there’s nothing at all wrong with her.

Sure, she might think too much.

Yeah, her brain can get in the way of her body’s wishes.

But maybe that’s because she hasn’t found the right person to give her everything she deserves.

Or hasn’t until now.





32





I turn off the shower and hand her a towel.

As she dries, she casually says, “Once I’m all dressed, I can go.”

I rub my ear. “What did you just say?”

She shrugs as if it’s no big deal, then points to the door. “I figured you’d want me to go.”

“Why the hell would you figure that?”

“Because that’s . . .”

“What guys want?” I supply, aghast. “Who the hell have you been dating?” I hold up a hand. “Wait. I’m not sure I want you to answer that.”

“I didn’t want to be presumptuous.” She’s too direct and up-front to beg or even hint for an invite. No, she legit sounds like she thought I’d kick her out of my home after pleasuring her. “You might want your space,” she says. “We didn’t make any plans for an all-nighter.”

I slide a hand around her hip, squeezing. “You might not be presumptuous, but I sure as hell am. You’re not coming over here, having dinner with me, wearing that sexy-as-sin pink lingerie, having an epic orgasm that we both desperately wanted, showering in my bathroom, and then getting in a cab, Uber, or subway to go home.” I squeeze harder. “If I’m presumptuous, so be it. You’re spending the night. Got it?”

A smile spreads slowly over her lovely face, then all at once, as if she’s been lit up. “That’s crystal clear.”