Page 94 of With Spite

Noted.

“I need…”

I added a second finger to the first, curling my fingers toward her pubic bone as I did.

Her heels hit my shoulders and started to dig in. “Huxley!”

Her fingers latched onto my ears and breathing was a thing of the past.

But that was okay.

Dying by smothering by pussy seemed like a good way to go.

“I’m coming,” she cried out.

I could tell.

I curled my fingers harder, massaging that spot inside of her until her muscles clenched around my fingers.

Hot juices coated my tongue, and I groaned at the taste of her on my taste buds.

Her body fell limp as her orgasm washed through her, her chest heaving.

I reached for the inhaler on the bedside table and said, “Do you need your inhaler?”

“No.” The breath sawed into her lungs. “I don’t think. Maybe.”

I grinned into her face as she got herself under control.

She didn’t need her inhaler.

Yet.

So I put it onto the bed beside her head and crawled between her splayed thighs.

Notching my cock at her entrance, I slowly pushed inside until she was filled with me completely.

She keened as I found a steady rhythm.

Her breathing picked up even more, and I knew she would need the inhaler if I didn’t slow down.

So that was what I did.

I fucked her so slowly that she was begging me to move faster.

I continued my slow assault until we were both on the edge, then I fell over the cliff with her.

“Shit,” I breathed against her throat.

“I made it,” she teased.

“You did,” I agreed.

She lifted her hips against my pelvis, forcing my still-hard cock deeper, and said, “We’re going to get my skirt dirty. This is dry clean only.”

I pulled her into my arms and rolled until she was on top, then reached for the Kleenex on the side table.

I pulled a few free and handed them to her.