Blood of Eve (Trilogy of Eve 2)

“Yeah.” His affirmation and the flex of his fingers inside me drove my pleasure toward the brink of free fall, rising, tipping, losing my balance.

My body seized around the pressure, exploding in a thousand chaotic sensations, firing my nerve-endings and shooting stars across my vision. I sighed blissfully, my chest heaving and my skin flushed and tingling as I floated in his arms.

He removed his fingers, shoved down his pants, and kicked them off. Then he wedged his hips between my legs, spreading me open. With a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and his forehead pressed against mine, he sank into me with a stuttering exhale.

I gasped at the fullness of him, my hands clinging to the strength in his shoulders. For a suspended moment, he held himself still, buried and stretching, his thick girth pulsing against my inner walls.

He lowered his mouth and tasted my lips. His tongue, so soft and wet, drew mine out, teasing, flicking, and rubbing together.

Then he moved, flexing his hips and slipping from my pussy, only to plunge again, deeper, rougher. I moaned into his mouth, my fingers sweeping over the bunch and play of his muscled back. His thrusts sped up, his arms hooking beneath me and pulling me tightly against him.

We were as close as physically possible, slick with sweat and arousal, our bodies melded, fingers and tongues curling, legs intertwined, his cock deep inside the most intimate part of me. Fuck, I loved this, this carnal connection, this gooey throbbing bond melting us together.

Grunting, he dug fingers against my back and drove his hips, gliding his length along my sheath and fighting with labored breaths to reach deeper with each thrust. I rose to meet him, absorbing the force of his pounding, his balls slapping against my ass and his tongue whipping wildly against mine.

Another orgasm swelled inside me, accelerating my breaths and coaxing moans of need from my lips.

He broke the kiss, leaning back to watch me come, always watching, always intensely focused on my pleasure. His lips parted, and his pupils dilated, the pace of his breaths in sync with the hammering of his hips.

What would he sound like if Roark were kneeling behind him, fucking him as he fucked me? Would he groan louder? Thrust harder? I mentally rearranged the image, inserting Michio between them. Much better. They would find unimaginable pleasure if they opened their minds to it. God, I longed for them to want that, to love one another, to find comfort in each other’s arms. Now, while I could enjoy the experience of seeing them together. And later, so they could turn to each other after I was gone.

I embraced the fantasy as I fell over, my cunt gripping Jesse’s cock as I came, whimpering and panting and scratching his back.

He followed me over with a guttural shout, his head kicking back and the cords in his neck straining against his throat.

I loved watching him come. It was like releasing all over again, witnessing my pleasure echo in the movements of his body, his parted lips, and heated eyes.

As he caught his breath, he held me close to his chest, held my gaze with unblinking intensity, and held my fingers against his lips. He filled my heart, my thoughts, and my womb. The guardian of my mind. The father of my child. I would love him for as long as love existed. A lifetime. An eternity. I would love him longer than that.

We twined together, a sweaty tangle of limbs and breaths, his cock still twitching inside me, as I thought about the conversation that had carried us to this sated moment.

“Did you come with Roark’s fist around your cock?”

He half-groaned, half-laughed, and looked over his shoulder.

“Not exactly.” Roark leaned against the wall beside the closed door, his arousal stretching the crotch of his shorts.

When the hell did he return? I hadn't even heard the door.

Jesse looked back at me, not a hint of surprise in his expression at Roark's presence.

He brought his lips to my ear, his voice a deep whisper. “I came in his mouth.”

Velvety and evocative, Jesse’s whisper was like a caress of lips along my neck, as if he’d said those delicious words just to watch me shudder and melt beneath him.

We lay chest to chest, fully nude and wrapped tightly together, his heavy muscles blanketing my much smaller frame as his softening cock slipped from my body.

I pressed deeper into the mattress to better see his face. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Keep your mouth open like that, and I’ll shove my dick in it.”

I shivered, and my lips curled into a filthy grin. “Is that what happened with Roark?”

His chiseled jaw, strong cheekbones, and hard eyes constituted a visage of seriousness. He didn’t smile back, didn’t acknowledge or refute my question. He simply stared at my mouth, like he was content to do nothing else for as long as I’d let him.