The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil #2)(112)

“Oh my God, baby,” I breathed, burying my fingers in his hair, and with my other hand, reaching for his cock.

It took hold and stroked.

“Yeah,” he growled against my flesh, pumping into my hand, switching nipples.

“Need you to fuck me,” I told him.

He sucked harder.

“Toby, need you inside me,” I pleaded.

He rolled my nipple with his tongue then said there, “In a minute.”

“Toby—”

He shoved me to my back. I lost purchase on his cock, he took control of it and with one hand jacking himself, his other hand diving between my legs to finger fuck me, he towered over me, claiming my pussy and giving me a show.

“Come on me,” I ordered.

“No fuckin’ way, ride that hand,” he ordered in return.

“Tobe—”

“Earn it,” he rumbled.

God, I was earning it already.

Did he have any idea how hot it was to watch him tug on his cock?

“Okay, let me suck you,” I offered.

He slid his fingers out and rolled my clit.

My eyes rolled in my head.

“Baby, who controls this bed?”

My eyes rolled back, and I huffed out, “You’re annoying.”

He grinned, stopped rolling, stopped stroking, grasped me behind my knees, yanked them up, released one so he could grab his cock, and then he was inside.

Finally.

My back lifted from the bed.

His hand went again to my knee and he fucked me.

“Yes, Toby,” I encouraged.

He spread my legs wider.

Now I was his show.

“Yes,” I whimpered, wanting to watch all that was my man up on his knees, banging me, but I was too lost in him actually banging me.

“Totally figurin’ out how to film you takin’ my fucking so you can see how goddamned fuckin’ gorgeous you are,” he growled.

Oh God.

We were so totally doing that.

“Tobe—”

He took a hand from my knee and pinched my clit.

There it was.

My mouth opened, the world washed away, and it was only Toby and me.

Just Toby and me.

In other words, I came for him.

Hard.

He covered me, kept fucking me, and I felt his finger slide in my mouth.

I sucked on it.

Hard.

“Fuckin’ fuck,” he grunted, his finger was gone, his tongue was there, and I was just beginning to come down when he groaned in my mouth.

That was Toby.

Unless he was doing me on my knees or belly (and sometimes even then), he came while kissing me.

I loved that about him.

Then again, I loved everything about him.

He finished fully planted, worked my neck with his lips and beard and slid slowly out trailing that beard down my chest, between my breasts, to my belly before he moved away and left the bed.

I rarely cleaned up.

That was also Toby.

He looked after me.

I rolled to my side, curled up and watched the door to the bathroom so I saw him reappear with a wet washcloth.

By the by, my white bathroom accessories against his black granite countertops and among all that wood in his bathroom?

The bomb.

Toby striding to me naked after fucking me like he fucked me?

Da bomb diggity bomb bomb.

“C’m ’ere,” he murmured heading to the side of the bed.

I pushed up, went there and got up to my knees.

“Spread,” he muttered.

I spread.

The warm cloth went between my legs just as his lips hit mine and his tongue went between them.

We made out while he cleaned me.

He nipped my lower lip lightly when he was done and ordered, “Don’t move,” before he headed back to the bathroom.

Goodie.

It was Friday night. We had a full day tomorrow, what with Matlock Memorial Day Food Festival and a visit to Margot and Dave and all. And Brooklyn would wake us early.

But it was Friday night so all that was goodness, not responsibility.

So he wasn’t done with me.

He came back, but not to me.

I watched him walk to the nightstand. I appreciated his back and ass as he did something at it, thinking, goodie again.

Toys.

Needless to say, on a day Brooklyn was spending some time with Aunt Iz, Uncle Johnny and his GoGo and Davey, Tobe and I had taken a road trip to Grayburg.

And he’d been right. The sex shop there was inspired.

He shut the drawer to his nightstand with his thigh, turned to me, came and positioned in front of me, grabbing my left wrist.

He lifted my hand and ran a thumb along the palm to the base of my ring finger.

Then he engaged his other hand, and only then did what he was doing strike me.

My eyes went from his handsome face, which was tipped down to watch what he was doing, to my hand just in time to see him slide a diamond ring on my finger.

It was not ridiculous like Izzy’s.

But it was still ridiculous.

A large, brilliant round stone set in a narrow band that was completely filled with smaller diamonds.

Simple. Even traditional.

And perfect.

“Margot picked it.”

My gaze came to his.

Yes.

Totally perfect.