Page 21 of Nobody Does it Better (Lucky in Love)
He slides me around, tugging me to his face so I’m practically draped on him. At the first flick of his tongue, I groan like an animal.
“Oh God,” I breathe out, and he moans too, licking me as I return his cock to my mouth.
He spreads my legs wider, lapping me up as I draw him back into me. It’s heady and dirty, the way we are, draped over each other’s bodies, lavishing dizzying attention with tongues and mouths and now . . . fingers.
Oh God. Dear Lord.
I shudder, my entire body shaking as pleasure kaleidoscopes through me from his mouth, his tongue, and his fingers fucking me.
Everything, every damn thing about this moment is so intense, so erotic.
So intimate.
Is it insane to feel closer to him right now than when we were fucking? I’m not looking in his eyes. He’s staring at my ass, if he’s even looking. Hell, my mouth is full of his thick, hard cock, but with his groans and my sounds and the wildness, I feel closer. So close that pleasure tightens in my belly.
I can’t keep him in my mouth. I let go, his cock falling from my lips, as I give in to the storm inside me, to the swirl of sensations, to the burst of pleasure.
Over and over, it builds from his tongue licking me, caressing me, his fingers in me and on me and spreading me, and it’s like he’s fucking me with his mouth and his hands at the same time.
And his sounds.
The noises he makes are lustful, carnal moans that tell me he loves doing this to me.
And I love what he’s doing so damn much that the desire pulses between my legs and the exquisite ache ramps up until finally I climb to the heavens, soaring in ecstasy, babbling, shouting, crying out.
I’m incoherent as I come ridiculously hard on his face.
And before I know it, he’s spinning me around, hunting for another condom, but I shake my head. “Clean, I’m clean. Are you?”
“Tested. Yes,” he grunts, and that’s enough.
I sink down on him.
“Shaw,” I groan in ecstasy as he fills me.
“Vanessa,” he says, and it sounds like a plea.
“That was the most intense orgasm of my life,” I murmur as I rise up then drop back down, grinding on his fantastic dick.
He grabs my hips, moving me quickly. “You’re so fucking sexy when you come. So fucking sexy all the time. So fucking sexy now.”
His fingers dig into me. His hands grip me. And he fucks up into me, harder, wilder. He grunts and growls, teetering near the edge.
“I want you to come, baby,” I tell him, sliding my chest against his.
He groans.
“Don’t hold out for me. I’m good. I want you to.”
He grabs the back of my head, yanking me in for a fierce kiss. “You’re perfect. God, I’m so crazy for you.”
And his words, they ring in my ears. They’re like a song. They’re like bells announcing my dreams.
They’re the best thing I’ve ever heard. The man I love is crazy for me. And I’m so damn crazy for him that hearing that sends me on a fast track to pleasure.
“Say it again,” I tell him.
“Does it turn you on?”
“So much.”
He slams me hard onto him. “I’m fucking crazy for you.”
I pant. “I’m crazy for you.”
I close my eyes, riding him, riding us to the edge of pleasure, till the bliss grabs me and pulls me under. I come, and he comes, and we come together.
After, he wraps an arm around me and sighs contentedly. “I’m pretty sure that was the best sex ever in the world.”
“It definitely was. Nobody does it better,” I whisper.
“That’s for damn sure. Nobody does it better than us.”
And I know why. Because of what I feel for him, and what I hope he feels for me.
Sex makes me hungry.
We eat the sandwiches I picked up earlier.
We play Monopoly for a few minutes, and he shows me how well he can juggle the tiny shoe, the iron, and the car.
I clap like a pleased spectator at the circus. I have always been a Shaw enabler.
I wait for him to say those words. I’m crazy for you.
I want to hear him say it again when we’re not in the heat of the moment.
But I also want this moment to last as long as it can.
When he takes me to bed, we go again, and I hope those words will fall from his lips as he puts me on my hands and knees, then afterward as he draws me into his arms, curling his strong body around mine.
I suppose I could say it too. I’m an equal-opportunity gal. And I’m dying to know if tonight was the real deal or a one-time thing.
But asking will change things either way, and I’m not ready for this moment to end. So I stay silent on matters of the heart all through the night.
