Page 156 of Spicy Ever After
The pleasure is so unreal, I can’t keep still. Beck’s hands slide beneath my ass, and cupping each cheek seems to drive him wild.
“Jesus!” I cry, no idea if I’m praying for mercy or for more.
Both.
Surely. It has to be both.
Between his mouth and his hands, my capacity for bliss only telescopes. But even though he’s driving me wild, and my hips thrash under his wicked kisses, it’s… it’s…
Oh, God, it’s not enough?—
It feels like every cell in my body is reaching for orgasm, and I won’t find it until Beck is inside me.
“I can’t—I can’t?—”
Beck pulls back. “You can’t what, honey?” His eyes are lust-glazed, his hair wild under my hands.
“I need you… please,” I pant. “Please.”
He’s on top of me again, the ridge of his cock a hot brand against my sex. Jesus, how does the man move so fast?
Beck snatches the condom from under the pillow and tears the wrapper with his teeth—sexy as all hell.
He’s about to take the condom from its packet when I protest.
“I-I want to help.”
Beck’s grin is lopsided. He tips it toward me. “As you wish.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that my hands shake. Even the practice session with the two wasted condoms earlier doesn’t help much this time. The thing is as slippery as dish soap.
When I finally have it out of the wrapper and pinched between two fingers, I look up to Beck for help.
“Now what?”
Beck executes a plank above me—ahem, holy fucking God—and tips his chin south toward his impressive erection. Hell, that beauty might as well be a palace guard, it’s standing at such perfect attention.
“Put it on.”
I’m not a total newb. I’ve seen the banana videos. I know it’s just a matter of putting it in place and rolling it down, but knowing how something is supposed to work and making it happen are two different things.
The condom lands on my belly twice. I say the F-word twice. I start to sweat. But then, by some miracle, I get the thing to hug the tip of Beck’s dick, roll it down, and—here’s the miraculous part—Beck still wants to have sex with me.
I know because he grabs himself at the base and looks me straight in the eyes. “You still want me, beautiful?”
God, his asking for consent never gets old.
“Yes. Do you still want me?”
I don’t think I’d believe it without seeing it up close, but Beck’s eyes smolder. Like a gas burner turned all the way up. “Hell, yes, honey. I couldn’t want anything more.”
I nod, lick my lips. “Me too.”
He settles between my legs, and my already pounding heart gallops.
“Oh, Jesus.”
It’s only when Beck leans down to kiss me that I realize I spoke the swear-prayer aloud.
