Soaring (Magdalene #2)(98)

I just took what I wanted, kissing him, touching him, ripping off his shirt.

He arched away to let me to do this then went back at me, rolling us so I was on top, then knifing up, still kissing me. I was forced to straddle him and his hands went to the hem of my top.

I lifted my arms as he tugged it off and threw it away. Then I put my hands to either side of his head and was going to dip in for another kiss, but I halted when Mickey did the dipping, trailing his lips briefly over the skin above the beige lace over the cranberry silk of my bra then, without warning, he went down and, through the lace and silk, drew my nipple in his mouth, swift and hard.

I arched back, grinding into his crouch.

I was wrong.

Now, it was on.

And it went wild.

He took.

I took.

He bit, licked, sucked, kissed, stroked and groped.

I bit, licked, sucked, kissed, stroked and groped.

He might argue but I had it better since there was so much of him to take in in so many ways and all of it was solid, hot and staggering.

Then I had nothing on but my panties, Mickey had nothing on but his jeans, our mouths were locked, our tongues tangled, our bodies sealed, I had my hand down his fly stroking something rigid and thick and long and promising, when I let out a cry because Mickey broke the kiss and hauled me up.

He settled on his back at the same time he settled me on him.

On him.

Straddling his face.

One hand yanking me down, one hand between his mouth and me shoving aside the gusset of my panties, suddenly his tongue was buried inside.

Oh God.

Yes.

“Mickey,” I breathed.

He said nothing. He was busy eating.

And he ate, licked, sucked, tongue-f*cked and took me high, higher, flying, before he drove two fingers inside, sucked deep at my clit and I was soaring, arching, moaning, shuddering and coming.

It was so big, I couldn’t breathe. Whimpering and gasping, he kept sucking and finger-f*cking me driving me higher until he stopped, gently pushed me off, tore my panties down my legs, whipped me to my back and covered me.

“Mickey,” I whispered, still feeling it, still up in the clouds.

I also felt him doing something between my legs.

Then he whispered back, “Good?”

Good?

No.

There were no words for how it felt when Mickey sent me flying.

“Yes,” I breathed.

I saw the grin hit his blazing eyes before he warned, “Get ready for more.”

Before I could, he drove inside me.

Oh yes, what I’d been stroking was promising.

Rigid. Thick. Long.

Amazing.

My back curved up and my limbs curled in, cocooning him as he thrust hard, deep, fast.

“Yes,” I whimpered, not having come down, I was again climbing.

“Yeah,” he grunted and then kissed me.

I kissed him back, clutching him to me, gliding my hands over the muscles of his back, over his short-cropped hair, in every way drawing him in deeper, closer, wanting him to soar in the clouds with me.

I knew he was getting there, I could feel it, taste it, then I lost it.

But only for a second when he pulled out, flipped me to my belly, kicked my legs apart with his knee, positioned, yanked me up at my hips and reentered me, slamming me back with his fingers curled at my ribs as he powered inside.

“Yes,” I repeated on a gasp, taking over, pushing back as he thrust forward.

Mickey said nothing intelligible, but the power of his grunts matched the power of his drives, and both pushed me higher.

“Mickey,” I gasped as I again began to soar.

“Padded headboard,” was his reply.

Too far gone, all I could do was keep rearing back and blink.

Then I wasn’t rearing back.

He pulled out, flipped me again, lifted me up and walked on his knees until I crashed into the headboard and Mickey thrust back up inside me.

I looked into his blue eyes and moaned, “Honey.”

“Yeah, Amy,” he grunted, one arm around my waist holding me to him, the other hand slipping over my hip and in.

His thumb hit my clit right when he drove his cock deep.

“Honey,” I breathed and I was gone, arms curled around his shoulders, heels digging into his ass. The power of my orgasm meant I gripped his sex with mine as I clutched the rest of him to me and fought for air. So high it felt there was no oxygen left to breathe as bliss scored through me.

“Fuck, astounding,” he grunted before he groaned, “Amy,” and f*cked me wild, his face buried in my neck, as he pushed me higher, making mine last longer, score deeper, and he joined me.

The pounding gentled and slowed before he slid inside and stayed there. He glided his lips up my neck, along my jaw and up where he caught my mouth, sweeping his tongue in, kissing me, this time wet and sweet.

I held him close and kissed him back.

Still needing oxygen, it was me who tore my mouth free and pushed my face in his throat.

Mickey slid his hand from between us, over my belly, around and across my back, tightening his arms and pressing deep, giving me a sexy, sweet hug as he called, “You okay, baby?”

I was.

I absolutely was.

Even though he’d wrecked me.

He gave me a squeeze, prompting, “Amy.”

“I’m good,” I replied faintly.