Page 150 of Bridesmaid By Chance
“Sloane.”
I release him from my hand and stand up, leaving him stretching up toward his stomach. When his eyes meet mine, I say, “Stay there.”
I go to my nightstand where I grab my vibrator and my lube—thank God I thought of it—and bring it back to where Hudson is standing against the door to our hotel room. I take his hand and lead him over to the sitting area and stretch him out over the chaise lounge. I spread his legs and prop them up before I start lubing up the vibrator. Checking with him, I ask, “Can I?”
He wets his lips and nods his head.
Thrilled, I slowly insert the vibrator in his ass, letting him adjust, and when it’s where I want it to be, I turn it on. He immediately moans, his legs falling open, and his cock springing forward.
Jesus Christ, that’s so hot.
“Fuck…fuuuuuck,” he says, his hips moving.
I might not even have to do anything—I might be hitting him in just the right spot.
“Uhhnn, fuck.” His hands close into fists, his eyes squeeze shut, and I watch precum slip out of his tip and dribble down his stomach. “Baby…fuck…I…fuck.”
I smile to myself because I don’t think I’ve ever seen a reaction like this before. He’s clawing at the couch, shifting his body, heaving his chest. His cock is twitching, his body thrumming, his balls tightening.
“Holy shit…fuck, baby…oh fuck.”
My pussy throbs from the sight of him. My body tightening from seeing him fall apart like this.
And I’m unsure of what I want to do. I want to watch him. I want to see how long it takes before he comes, but God, I’m so hot right now, so hard up, in need of him.
“What do you want?” I ask as I play with his hard nipple.
“Fuck…I…” His jaw clenches together. “Your tight cunt. I want that fucking tight cunt.”
Drenched and spiraling with lust, I straddle his lap and take his dick in my hand and position it at my entrance.
“Now, fucking now, Sloane.”
I sit down on him, filling myself up with his erection, and I watch as the veins in his neck pulse from our connection.
“Mother…fucker.” His hands fall to my hips, and before I even have a chance to gather myself, he starts lifting me up and pounding me down. “Fuck me…hard. Fuck me, Sloane.”
Lust spiraling through me, I place my hands on his chest, and I dig my fingernails into him as I lift up and slam down on him.
“Fuck yes, baby. Just…like…that.”
I do it again.
And again.
And again.
And with every time I push down, I squeeze around him. On the third one, my orgasm starts to pool around me, a numbing feeling crawling through my veins, a blank beat of euphoria pulsing at the base of my spine.
“Hudson, God, I’m…I’m close.”
“Fuck me. Fuck me,” he growls.
And I go feral. He’s begging me, pleading. I’ve never heard anything sexier.
I pump over him. Unable to feel my feet, unable to catch my breath, I just focus on the pleasure coursing through me, on the sounds of him moaning, on the faint vibration I can feel until I feel him tense beneath me and then roar out in pleasure.
“Fuck!” he cries as I feel him spill inside me.
