Page 88 of Run To You
Her words rip through me like a live wire. I put my hands behind her hips and pull her down, the head of the toy slipping to her entrance but nowhere near as deep as she needs it. The toy teases her the way I know drives her nuts. God, she’s so wet already. We’re not going to need any lube. I can see her pleasure already running down the shaft. She’s going to explode when I bury myself in her.
“Say please,” I toss back, just to hear her curse at me.
“Please, Eden, fuck—” There’s a quiver in her voice, a rawness I haven’t heard in years, and it nearly undoes me.
I grip her hips and hold the base steady. Sloane tilts her hips and lowers herself fully, taking me in—slow, deep and with a perfect unhurried confidence.
Watching her face as she sinks onto the toy is always the best part, the way her lashes flutter and her lips part. She breathes out so hard you’d think she’d been holding it in for hours.
She rolls her hips slowly at first, almost cautiously, until she can’t hold back any longer. Her hands press to my shoulders to keep herself steady. I slide my palm flat up her back, feeling every trembling muscle under her skin. God,she’s stunning: flushed from collarbone to cheek, pupils blown wide and wild just for me.
I let her set the pace for all of a minute before I grip her hips, guiding her into a bruising rhythm, making the whole harness strain against my own clit. She moves with me, breath hitching every time she bottoms out. The slap of her ass against my upper thighs is obscene and it’s getting me off.
It’s all I can do not to beg her myself. Every grind of her hips, every little clench around the silicone, lands like a gut punch right where I want it. I drag her closer until our bodies are fused. I can smell her. I taste the sweat rolling down her neck when I press my face to her skin and nip at the curve of her shoulder.
She moans in that low, tight-throated way that means she’s close, and fuck, I want to keep her right there forever.
Sloane moves with intention, catching my rhythm and matching me. Her hands are tangled in the hair at the back of my neck, keeping me locked to her collarbone, like if she lets go she’ll fall apart completely. I brace both hands around her waist and let her take what she needs, and it’s so goddamn hot watching her use me.
She leans back, digging her fingers into my thighs, arching her body like some beautiful fucking goddess, andrides me hard. Her head tips back, mouth drops open in a silent gasp, and when I bring my thumb to her clit she grabs my wrist and grinds down, using the leverage to chase her orgasm.
I want to give it to her. I want to see her lose it. So I move my thumb in quick, tight circles, the exact way she likes, and I feel the way she shudders under my touch.
She comes suddenly, so hard she practically folds over me, clutching my shoulders for dear life, clenching around the toy in a series of pulsing spasms.
“Jesus, Eden,” she pants.
I can’t speak just yet. I’m still lost in the vision of her. My clit hums with a need that’s bordering on urgent. I manage to groan out, “Babe,” which makes Sloane sit back and look into my eyes. She’s sweaty and gasping but ready to give me what I need.
“Bedroom,” she growls.
Her dismount isn’t graceful, but then again, neither is my scramble off the couch.
I wriggle the harness down my legs as soon as we step inside our bedroom, letting it drop to the floor. Sloane is on me in a second, turning me and practically throwing me to the bed.
She kisses me like she needs it to keep living, and for all I know, maybe she does. I’m on my back in seconds, groaning as she drowns me in her hair and the weight of her body.
The laughter stops instantly when her palm slides down my stomach, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. I open my legs for her with zero hesitation, and Sloane wraps my thigh over her hip, locking us together.
“God, I love you,” Sloane breathes against my cheek, her hand hovering at the juncture of my thigh. She’s in no rush now, apparently—she’s going to torture me instead. Perfect.
Her eyes are black with intent. She knows exactly how to unravel me and seems determined to take the slow path this time.
She kisses me like she’s savouring every second and every inch of my skin, slipping her tongue between my lips and nipping gently at the seam.
I fist her hair and pull her harder against me. She grins, delighted with my desperation. I can’t believe I forgot how deliciously evil she can be.
Her fingers finally slip between my pussy lips. They find me wet enough that it’s embarrassing.
She takes her time with my clit with slow, insistent circles that make my whole body arch off the bed. I’m so sensitive, I gasp into her mouth, and she swallows the sound with another greedy kiss. The heel of her palm presses down while two fingers tease around my entrance, never quite giving me what I want. I whine and rut against her shamelessly.
“Please,” I say.
She’s done torturing me now, and I am so bloody grateful because my clit is almost in pain. Sliding her body down, she sucks me in with her mouth and thrusts her two fingers inside. I clamp down immediately and I know this will be a record for how fast an orgasm arrives and crashes over.
It’s possible I passed out. I hear my own scream and then everything dulls down to a beautiful silence, only filled with Sloane’s appreciative groans as she cleans me up.
We spend the next few hours tangled up, half asleep but never letting go, our bodies sticky with sex and sweat. This is the best going-away present I could have asked for. Sloane, her skin, her mouth and her body pressed to mine, like an anchor, so I don’t float away before I have to leave.
