Lord Have Mercy (The Southern Gentleman #2)(32)

I froze with my hands mid-way to her hair, smiling while closing my eyes and bowing my body as I practically thrust up toward her, ignoring her questions.

She took pity on me and wrapped her hand around my cock, and I finally knew the meaning of ecstasy.

Her hand, although small, seemed to fit me perfectly. Her fingers, although not able to fit around me completely, looked like they were made to be there.

And the way she kept sweeping her thumb over the tip of my cock, swiping at the wetness there? Yeah, there was no way in hell that wouldn’t be permanently embedded in my spank bank log.

Then she bent down, her tongue poking out from between those two plump, succulent lips, and she was circling the head of my cock. Round and round, over and over again, until the entirety of my cock head was soaked with her saliva.

Then she blew on it, making my balls draw up.

It was such an odd sensation that I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to come, or whether I wanted to pull away.

But, before I could make a decision on which one I’d rather do, she took the head of my cock into her mouth and sucked it like a lollipop.

My hands, which were still frozen in mid-air, dropped to the bed. I fisted the sheets in desperation, trying to count to a hundred by threes just so I could maintain a semblance of control.

Then her teeth scraped lightly up my shaft, and I swear to God I saw stars.

“Fuck!” I cried out, unable to contain my language or my body anymore.

But before I could do something incredibly embarrassing, like come, she pulled back with a single lick to the slit of my cock.

She moaned—or maybe I did, I wasn’t too sure at this point—at the taste of my pre-cum on her tongue.

“Please,” I growled. “Let me inside of you.”

She reached for the foil packet that was laying on the bed, forgotten in my haste to grab onto something steady, and ripped it open with her teeth.

She pulled the condom out of the package and studied it.

“Pinch the tip,” I instructed.

She did.

“Place it on the tip of my cock and start rolling it down.”

She poked her tongue out from between her lips and bit down lightly on it in concentration, doing as I’d instructed—possibly the slowest possible condom roll in history—and sheathed my cock.

I closed my eyes when she was finally finished, counting back from fifty this time instead of going up to one hundred.

Then I felt her straddle me, and my hands went to her hips on their own accord.

Moving until she was where I needed her, I reached for my cock and pointed it up while she positioned her entrance directly over the head.

“Slide down,” I ordered.

She did, coming to a stop when just the head was inside.

“Fuckkkk,” I growled. “Please, please, please move.”

She did, but only by a half an inch.

I squeezed her hips. “Baby.”

She gave me another inch, then stopped, panting.

“You’re too big,” she breathed. “You feel like you’re about to split me in two.”

“I’m not that big,” I lied. “You can take me.”

She was already shaking her head. “I don’t think you understand. I have a very small vagina. Think of it like a pinky size—swear to God, stop laughing!”

I couldn’t help it. She was trying to be so clinical and informative, but all she was doing was wiggling on my cock—which was only about a quarter of the way in—while she tried to convince me of something that I could tell just by feeling her.

“Vaginas are made to stretch,” I said, sounding pained. “And your pussy is going to take me, even if we have to work to make it happen.”

She didn’t seem convinced. In fact, she seemed downright disbelieving.

I didn’t blame her. Looking down between our bodies, I could see how far she stretched to accommodate my girth.

My eyes were practically rolling into the back of my head, because all that was sheathed inside of her was the tip, and the way she was squeezing and writhing was putting quite a bit of pressure on the most sensitive part of me.

“You’re like one of those Ekrich sausages trying to fit into a hot dog bun,” she continued. “It’s not going to work. No matter what you do, the hot dog bun isn’t going to be able to contain a piece of meat that large.”

I was almost crying at this point. A, because she was comparing my dick to an Ekrich sausage, and B, because I wanted to be inside of her so bad that it hurt.

She moved until her hands were pressed on my chest, this time pulling my cock slightly out of her to do so, and I lost it.

Rolling and pulling out of her all at the same time, I started to descend her body even before she was able to regain her equilibrium.

“Flint, what are you…” Then she trailed off as my intentions became clear.

If she wasn’t convinced that I’d fit, then it would be my job to make her see that it was possible.

I’d do that by getting her so sloppy wet for me that I’d slide right in without a second thought.

I’d get her so goddamn insane with lust that she wouldn’t be able to come up with her crazy comparisons of sausages and hot dogs.

My mouth found her pussy, and I nearly groaned at the taste of her. Sweet and mine.

“Fuuuuck,” I growled against her pussy. “You taste good.”