Monster Prick (Screwed, #1.5)(16)
His eyes search mine, and eventually, he decides to believe me. His mouth goes back to my core again. But this time he’s softer, moving with the skill of a man who both knows what he’s doing and doesn’t want to push me too far.
Soon I’m clawing at the sheets, tugging at his hair, and rocking my hips into his mouth, not caring one little bit that I’m riding his face like a maniac. This only makes him more determined, and his tongue moves earnestly against me, drawing tight circles over my sensitive bud.
“Hudson,” I cry out, my body convulsing once, twice, as a powerful orgasm washes over me. He crawls up my body and kisses me through every little aftershock.
“Feel good, princess?” he whispers in the darkness, his lips brushing mine.
“Very. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for doing that. Trust me, it was my pleasure.”
As strange as it is, I believe him. The look of reverence painted on his face tells me he enjoyed that almost as much as I did.
I pull him closer and lay back on the bed, parting my thighs.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his breath a whisper on my neck.
I nod tightly. “Positive.” The way he pumped in and out of me last night while his thumb stroked my clit has played through my brain all day.
He grabs a condom from beside his bed and quickly slips it on. Then he’s back, moving between my legs, looking into my eyes as he pushes forward. The broad tip of him pierces me and I groan, shifting my hips closer, wanting more of him.
“I want you to watch,” he says, withdrawing just a bit. I look down to where our bodies are joined, and damn. That’s an erotic sight. His thick cock is painted in my wetness, and my inner folds are parted to accept him. He thrusts in slow, but deep, until he grinds his pelvis against my clit. The tight bud is peeking out from its sheath and when he grinds against me, I shudder.
“Shit, Hudson,” I moan out the curse, my eyes drifting closed.
“Watch, baby. Look how your * hugs me.” He rocks against me, sliding in and out inch by delicious inch. His movements are slower, more controlled than last night. Is he less eager, or does he just want to savor this?
“Does it feel good for you, too?” I ask, noticing the tick in his hard-set jaw.
“Too good,” he growls.
I know exactly what he means. My body is already building toward release, and I cry out with each deep thrust forward. Hudson joins me, a deep grunt rumbling in his chest as his pace picks up.
I push my hips up, meeting each of his hard thrusts as I drift closer and closer to the edge. Then he brings his thumb to my clit again and rubs it in small circles. Almost immediately my inner muscles clamp down around him and I cry out his name. A powerful orgasm races through my system, making me almost dizzy with the force of it. A thin sheen of sweat covers my body and my nipples are pebbled into hardened points. But Hudson’s not done with me yet. He begins rocking into me in fast, uneven strokes as the aftershocks of my second orgasm continue to pulse quietly through me.
“Gracie …” My name on his lips as he comes causes my * to flutter around him again. “Fucking hell, baby. You have no idea how good that felt,” he says, pulling me into his arms. He collapses down onto the bed, holding me close. I rest my head on his chest and listen to the whooshing sound of his racing heart, wondering what in the hell just happened. It was almost better than our first time, if that's even possible; it must be because now he knows my body intimately and I know his. The thought makes me happy. But even as I close my eyes and try to relax, the gnawing anxiety I felt earlier refuses to fade completely.
*
Later that night, we’re still relaxing together in his bed in post-sex bliss when Hudson suddenly sits up. “I have an idea …”
I think he’s about to propose a crazy new sexual act that he wants to introduce me to. Rising to his feet, he offers me his hand, and I accept, standing naked before him. But then he completely surprises me.
“You feel like going to Sebastian’s to get an ice cream?”
“You’re inviting me for dessert?” I can’t help the silly grin spreading over my face. We used to go to Sebastian's all the time when we were younger, but I haven't been in years.
“Why not?” He smiles and I’m lost.
“Of course I’ll go.”
We throw on our clothes and head out into the night. His hand rests on my knee while he drives, the radio playing low in the background. I’m happy to see the conversation flows just as well when our clothes are on. Then again, I always knew it would. I’ve known him since I was four years old and I’ve liked him almost that long. If I’m being honest, I’ve always felt a lot more for him than like.
But I force those thoughts away as we park outside one of the most popular independently owned ice cream shops in town. In the summer, this place has a line wrapping around the side of the building and down a whole city block. But given that it's early fall and we’re here a little later in the evening, after the family crowd, there are only a few people ahead of us. Once inside, I stuff my hands in my pockets, feeling light and carefree as I gaze down into the glass-covered counter full of creamy delicacies. I’m already imagining how the sweet and savory pistachio ice cream will taste melting on my tongue when I hear a familiar laugh.