Page 48 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
I crushed my mouth to hers, moaning at the feel of her bare chest pressed against mine. Last night’s sexual escapades had been a blast, but they’d been frantic and fast—we’d never even taken the time to get all the way undressed. This time I didn’t want to leave any inch of her skin unexplored. I was determined to feel every part of her against every part of me.
“You feel so good,” she breathed, running her hands all over me. “I can’t get enough.”
“Try,” I told her.
She laughed lightly and kissed a path down my chest, her hands moving to the button and zipper of my jeans. My heart beat hard in my chest as she pushed them and my underwear down. I kicked them all the way off, breathing heavily as she spread her knees wider, lowered her head in front of me and looked up.
Fuck yes.
The late afternoon light spilled in through both windows, which were far enough away that no one could see us, but close enough that I could make out the devilish expression on her face. She braced herself on one hand and used the other to grip my shaft and run the tip of my cock over her lips, tracing the shape of her full mouth. When I felt her tongue sweep over the crown, I sucked air between my teeth, making her smile.
She took her time, relishing every decadent swirl, every velvet stroke, every impatient throb. When she finally slipped her lips over the tip, sucking gently, I groaned, my hands moving automatically to her hair, holding it out of the way so I could watch her.
As if she was in no particular hurry, she lavished a few minutes on just the crown, driving me insane with the need to feel her plush, hot lips sliding over my entire cock. Her fucking mouth was incredible, soft and silky and full.
“Claire.” A growl and a plea.
She laughed from the back of her throat, but she obliged, lowering her head, those plush, petal-smooth lips sliding down my shaft, warm and wet and snug. My knees trembled, and I widened my stance for stability, my jaw dropping in ecstatic disbelief as she worked her mouth up and down my cock, one hand gripping the base.
“Fuck, you can take me so deep.” I was riveted by the sight of her head bobbing slowly in front of my hips, elated at the sounds she made, at the way she seemed to be enjoying herself. My eyes traveled over her whole body, the hair streaming down her bare back, the curve of her waist, the perfect ass in tight jeans sticking up in the air. My hands tightened in her hair.
She moaned and took me in as far as she could, her hand pumping up and down what her mouth couldn’t handle. I struggled to maintain control, allowing myself only the smallest thrusts between her lips. Inside me a battle waged between a monster desperate to do unspeakable things to this angel on her knees for me, and a man who wanted to maintain control. The pressure inside me was building, pushing me toward the edge, and I kept pulling back, pulling back, pulling back, because I never wanted this to end. And the more I fought the release, the harder she worked me. Goddamn, she’s good at this! How is she so good at this?
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, she pulled my dick from her mouth and flipped onto her back, her hair and head and neck hanging over the edge.
She reached for me. “I want to make you come like this. Let me.”
I almost lost it.
Willing myself to hold on for one more miraculous minute, I guided my cock between her lips, watching as she took me in deep. Jaw-dropping, mind-blowing, eye-popping deep. Her hands gripped my hips, moving me in and out, while I looked on in amazement and fought the insane urge not only to come but to tell her I loved her, propose marriage, and offer to father her children if only she’d just keep doing what she was doing. For a moment, I was paralyzed with pleasure, but then my body took over, my hips rocking with the rhythm she set, my cock pumping hard and quick into her mouth.
What the fuck is she doing to me? I can hardly breathe! What’s that sound? Is that my pulse? It sounds like a marching band is in the room. I think I’m having a heart attack. It’s beating way too hard. I’m going to die. This is it. This is it! Oh my fucking God, this is iiiiiiiit…
I didn’t die. But I did come harder than I ever had before, in several seconds of earth-shattering bursts, grunting and gasping as my cock throbbed between her lips. As my vision clouded with silver, I imagined the way I was filling her mouth, sharing myself in the most intimate, most erotic, most dominant way possible. But it was the craziest thing—she was powerless beneath me, yet I felt vulnerable to her.
What the fuck was happening?
When I could see straight again, Claire was still gasping for breath, her head on the bed again. Wait, she’d swallowed? Maybe I would propose.
OK, I wasn’t that crazy.
But there were other things I could do.
“Miss French, you are a very naughty girl.” I walked around the side of the bed, staring down at her. “Where did you learn to do that?”
She propped herself up on her elbows and smiled. “I read it in a book once. Did you like it?”
I grabbed her by the ankles and yanked her legs toward me, rotating her body so she lay across the bed. “I think you just swallowed that answer.”
She licked her lips.
“And now,” I said, unbuttoning her jeans and peeling them off, “it’s my turn.” I pulled her toward the edge of the bed and dropped to my knees.
“You don’t have to.”
I flung her legs over my shoulders and gave her a look. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. I did that because I wanted to, not because I expected anything in return.”
