Mister O(43)

I meet her gaze and arch an eyebrow. “Good to know. Now you have to wait for it. Because I told you I was taking care of you first, and I’m not changing my mind, princess, just because you’re so f*cking wound up for me.”

“I’m so wound up,” she says, clasping my face, running her hands over my beard like she did that night on the street outside her home. I wonder briefly if she was touching me then in an exploration, like she is now, with fire in her fingertips, with lust thrumming in her body, with this same dose of raging hormones that I feel.

“Have you ever come more than once?”

“In a day?”

I roll my eyes, laughing briefly. “No. I’m going to presume those busy fingers have polished the pearl more than once in a day. Let’s say, in a thirty-minute timespan. As in, one right after the other?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think I can.”

“First time for everything.”

I yank her shorts to her knees, and they fall to the floor. She steps out of them, and I inch back to look at her. I drag a hand over my jaw. She’s so stunning. Her legs are long and toned. Her panties are black lace with a tiny pink bow on the front. It’s dainty and sexy at the same time. And it’s for me.

My temperature shoots through the roof.

“So you were so worked up you couldn’t wait,” I say, as if I’m musing on the topic. I drag my hand down her belly then under her shirt. My fingers trace her soft stomach.

She trembles as I touch her. “I was so wet, Nick.”

I hum and breathe out hard. “I bet you’re still wet. I bet you’re even wetter now that I’m here. Is that right?”

She swallows and nods. “Find out,” she says, rocking her hips into me, rubbing against me.

Goddamn, this woman is a livewire. She’s crackling everywhere. This is how I want her. Ready to shatter. My fingers turn south, and I toy with the little bow. Her eyes blaze with desire, a hot, wild neediness. I dip a finger inside the waistband, brushing over the curls of hair on her mound. She gasps as I slide my fingers between her legs.

Lust slams into me from all corners, as if it’s invading my every cell. Because she is so f*cking wet. So slick. “Look at you. Look at how wet you get, even after you come,” I say as I glide my fingers through heaven.

As I stroke her slippery sweetness, she grabs at my arms, curling her fingers around my biceps. Her breath paints my cheek. Her wetness coats my fingers as I glide them over her * lips then up to the soft rise of her clit. When I touch her there, her moan is desperate.

“Did it feel like this when you f*cked yourself a few minutes ago?”

She shakes her head.

I rub faster over her swollen clit. “Like that?”

She rocks against my hand. “No. Not even close.”

My fingers explore her more, sliding over her silky heat. The fact that she’s this turned on drives me wild. “How long did it take you? When you sucked my cock a few minutes ago?”

“Not long,” she pants, her nails digging into my arms, her body rocking into me.

My God, I haven’t even pushed a finger into her, and she’s flying to the edge. Her legs are shaking, her breath is coming fast, and her eyes squeeze shut.

With one more stroke through all that heat, I push in, and she cries out “Oh God” as she dips down onto my fingers.

“And what about this?” I add another finger and crook it just right, hitting the spot that could send her soaring. “Did it feel like this when you f*cked your hand?”

“No, God no, not even close.”

She tightens around my fingers.

“Go wild on me, Harper. Fuck my hand now.”

She moans, gripping my biceps, riding my fingers, f*cking me in a mad, fevered frenzy. She clenches around me, so tight, so hot, so f*cking good. Then she screams, a wild, gorgeous sound that makes me want to push down my jeans and bury my cock inside her right this second. My dick throbs, begging to be freed from the jail I’ve locked him in.

But the lack of condoms means I can keep doing my favorite thing—focus on her—and I’m not even remotely close to done. When her panting slows and her moans soften to murmurs, she opens her eyes. I crush my mouth to hers, kissing her lips for the first time today. She tastes as good as she did last night. Maybe even better.

She breaks the kiss. “My God, Nick. What did you do to me?”

Her voice is a little hoarse, a lot breathy. Her eyes shine with the afterglow. This is what I’ve always wanted to see. I saw it last night for the first time, and I love the way she looks when I make her come—blissed out and beautiful.

I gently remove my fingers, bring them to my mouth, and taste her. Salty and sweet, and so f*cking good. “You wanted to learn what you liked. I showed you that you like it a lot when I reach your G-spot, princess,” I whisper, then slide my hands to her bare ass. I’m rewarded with more sweet murmurs as I lift her up. “Wrap your legs around me.”

She does, locking them around my ass. “Are you going to f*ck me like this?”

“I have other plans for you.”

Her apartment is tiny, and I carry her to her nearby couch, setting her down gently on the purple surface. She sinks into the cushions, her body looking relaxed and warm, probably from having come so hard. The rich shade of purple frames her face. Deep red and sparkly silver pillows cover her sofa. All these colors seem perfect for her. They match her personality—bright and vibrant.