The Decoy Girlfriend(84)

“Keep doing what you were doing before,” murmurs Freya, bringing his hands up to her ribs.

He’s quick to oblige. She experimentally moves up and down on trembling thighs, taking him in shallow thrusts, in sync with the friction of his palms brushing from the curve of her hips to the swell of her breasts. Finally, eyes closed in rapture, she sinks onto his entire length.

“God, you feel good,” Taft groans, fisting the sheets. Her walls are a slick and wet welcome.

Freya pitches forward to halfway lean over him, breasts swaying. She rises off him, not quite enough to slip out, then inches her way back down. “So do”—gasp—“you.”

“Kiss me,” he demands, tilting up to meet her halfway.

She closes the distance between their mouths, planting her lips possessively over his in a way that makes Taft ache to pull her down, filling her to the hilt. He kisses her back, matching her tongue stroke for stroke. Her kiss, he’s sure, is meant to devour him until there’s nothing left and he’s wholly hers.

Of course he is. There was never any doubt in his mind of that.

He will be this gorgeous girl’s for as long as she wants him. If he’s lucky, he will get to learn her every gasp and shudder. Pinpoint every place that makes her shiver and scream. Perfect the sweet torment of bringing her to the edge of orgasm over and over again until she falls apart in his arms.

“This angle is amazing,” Freya says with a soft gasp, starting to rock over him. It doesn’t take long before she finds a rhythm that has her tossing her head back and breathing a little erratically.

He can tell she’s close, but he knows how to get her there faster. Maybe even more than once.

Taft cups her ass with his left hand, using it as leverage to meet her thrusts. His other hand moves between them to bury his fingers in her damp curls. The pad of his thumb presses against her clit.

“Fuck!” Freya’s whole body convulses. Shock waves radiate through her core, muscles squeezing him. A second later, her hips slam against his, trapping his hand. “I’m not used to a guy paying me so much attention there,” she explains breathlessly, looking a little embarrassed.

Taft frowns. Just who has she been sleeping with that clitoral stimulation is still so new for her? Scratch that, he doesn’t want to know. All he wants is what she needs. “It’s okay, you can relax. Let me love you.”

He pauses at his own phrasing. “Let me make love to you” is what he meant to say, but what came out is, strangely, exactly what he wants.

Freya’s breathing is ragged. “I thought . . .”

He lifts his hips in a halfway thrust, prompting her to continue.

Her muscles give him another involuntary squeeze. “I thought that, um, in, um, cowgirl . . . I had to do all the work? I mean, not that this is work. It is exhausting, but that’s not what I—” She lets out a short laugh. “I’m saying this all wrong. I just thought guys were into this? Lying back and letting the girl ride them?”

He’s so fucking charmed by her. “I don’t know about ‘guys,’ but I love that you wanted to try it. I want your first time on top to be good for you, too, baby. Just let me make you feel good, okay?” He holds her tight while he bucks his hips up, driving himself deeper. He rolls his pelvis up toward her belly button, hitting her sweet spot.

Her hands grab at his shoulders, nails digging in. “That,” she says hoarsely. “Keep doing that.”

Taft smirks, ready and willing to play a far more active role now that she’ll let him. Passive participation was fun, but he’s far from a lazy lover, and now he just wants to watch her come all over his dick. “Yes, ma’am.”

He gives her slow, measured thrusts that have her biting her lip, eyes fluttering shut. That won’t do. He doesn’t want her holding back on him. Without breaking their rhythm, he uses his elbows to push himself up into a sitting position.

Freya’s eyes fly open at the new angle and a low moan, unlike any he’s heard before, escapes her lips. His breathing is labored, but he sucks her earlobe into his mouth, raking his teeth over her skin until she’s clawing at his back.

He sets a punishing pace, one that has her calling his name and burying her face in his neck. Her nibbles are sharp and aggressive, but she makes sure to soothingly sweep her tongue over his skin after.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she chants, snaking her tongue around the whorl of his ear.

His fingers circle her clit. “Wild horses couldn’t stop me.”

She laughs, breathless and hysterical, like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “I don’t think sex has ever been this fun for me before.”

He knows exactly what she means, and when the friction of his thumb over her clit shatters her, he suspects that it’s never been this satisfying for him, either.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” she half sobs into his neck, her upper body sagging against his. “My legs feel like jelly.” She pulls back when he stills inside her. “Keep going. You didn’t come.”

He tenderly sweeps sweaty tendrils of hair behind her ear. “Are you sure?”

She kisses him hard and swift. “I don’t think I’ll be able to come again, but yes.”

“I’m going to take that as a personal challenge.”