Page 66 of Broken Butterfly
“In me now,” I tell him.
“Not yet.”
“Yes, yet,” I argue, and he chuckles, his warm breath cascading down my quivering torso. “I’ll make you,” I tell him.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Challenge accepted, my sexy man. I slip right down off the hood and take him in my mouth before he can react.
“Fuuuck, Elizabeth,” he moans, and grabs my hair as I grab the backs of his thighs, his jeans pooled at his feet. He’s not going anywhere. I tease the tip, licking the saltiness, then take him deep until I almost gag and my eyes water. Ryder tightens his grasp in my hair but allows me to remain in control of his pleasure.
“I love your mouth on me,” he rumbles, head tilted back, eyes closed. When I feel him thicken and shudder, I know he’s close. The sound that softly rumbles up from deep in his chest is enough to tease out my own orgasm.
Suddenly, I’m pulled up and flipped around. Ryder bends me over the hood of the car, my breasts pressed flat against the hard metal, my arms draped up toward the windshield. Ryder slides his hand up my spine and bends over me, his chest molding over my back. He turns my head to the side and kisses the top of my shoulder, giving me another soft bite above my scapula.
“You ready, baby?”
Oh, hell, yes. “Ryder,” I beg. I need him to fill me. I need that connection. I just need him.
I’m so wet, it only takes him one effortless, hard thrust, until he’s seated fully inside of me. We both let out loud joyous moans. Slow and unhurried, Ryder pumps in and out of me before gradually increasing the rhythm of his thrusts. As his hips increase their tempo, he moves one hand to my hip to hold me in place while the other sneaks around to stroke and strum my throbbing womanhood with determined care. My hands have no purchase as I claw at the hood of the Hellcat. I hope I don’t leave scratches in the paint. How would we ever explain that to his dad? Oh, shit. What if we dented the hood already? Too late now.
Ryder’s next hard thrust hits that spot inside of me that lights me up and cry out his name.
“Say you’re mine,” he demands, thrusting into me.
I am. “I’m yours, Ryder.” Only yours.
“Say you’re mine forever.” Another deep thrust.
For eternity. “Forever, Ryder.”
“I love you, Elizabeth.”
I’m teetering on the edge, so close.
“I love you too. Come with me. Together.”
“Together,” he replies, swiveling his hips. His thumb and forefinger giving my clit a tender pinch and my body hums in pleasure, clamping tight all around him inside of me. We both explode at the same time. His name falls from my lips, mine groans out of his, as we fall into bliss. Shudder with our combined releases. So in love. Together.
I feel a pinprick on my hip, almost like the scratch of a tattoo needle but not nearly as painful. Then a gentle blowing. My abs seize and my cock hardens.
“Looks like someone is finally awake.” I love her voice, especially when it’s husky and smooth like it is now. I go to roll over. “No, don’t move. I’m almost done.”
I turn my head on the pillow. “What are you doing?”
Elizabeth has a black Sharpie marker clenched between her teeth, her thumbs and fingers swiping across my hip. “You’ll see,” she says around the marker.
The bedsheet is pooled around our upper legs, exposing her luscious pale breasts to my line of sight. My morning erection stiffens even more until it’s almost painful with the need to be inside her again. I drink in her pink nipples and they pucker right before my eyes, turning a dusky rose color with arousal.
“Stop that,” she mumbles. “I can feel your eyes.”
“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her. I hope she never gets tired of hearing me say it, because I’ll never stop telling her. “‘She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes.’”
Those ethereal sage green orbs dart up, capturing my light brown ones. “Byron?”
“Yeah.”
“You amaze me every single day, Mr. Cutton.”
