Hot & Heavy (Lightning 2) - Page 10

My whole system jolts, and fuck, I nearly come like a thirteen-year-old with his first girl. I manage to hold it together, though—barely. At least until she begins to jack me off.

“Wait,” I breathe against her lips, covering her fingers with my own. The sounds she made when I was eating her out drove me wild and I can barely hold it together. “I’m close.”

“That’s okay,” she tells me with a little grin that drives me wild. “I like you close.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This girl is H-O-T. She looks all proper—and even a little prim—on the outside, but underneath she’s pure, molten fire.

I fucking love it.

“I want to be inside you when I come,” I tell her as I slowly, agonizingly, peel her hand away. Immediately my dick screams for relief, for me to bring her back, to let her do whatever the fuck she wants to me.

I ignore it—and the need rampaging through me like a wildebeest—and focus instead on fumbling my wallet out of my pocket.

“Do you have something?” Sage asks, voice all soft and high and breathy. She’s moving against me, legs tangling with mine, her sex bumping restlessly against my dick.

And—can I just say—how fucking hot is it that she’s six feet tall? That she’s long and lean and the perfect height for me to fuck just like this?

“Yeah,” I grind out, pulling the condom from my wallet.

“Oh, thank God.” She rips it from my hand before I’ve even closed my wallet, and then she’s tearing it open. Rolling it onto my dick with those soft, talented, dangerous hands of hers.

Fuck. This woman is way hotter than I originally gave her credit for. Which is saying something because I’ve been pretty much mesmerized by her from the moment we walked into this bar.

When she’s done, she gives my dick an extra few strokes—like I need it—then wraps those long, sinuous arms around my neck. She pulls me down for another kiss, and as she does, she whispers, “Fuck me,” against my mouth. “Please.”

Those are the words I’ve been waiting to hear. Reaching down, I wrap one of her long, long, glorious legs around my waist. I take a moment to stroke a finger down her slit just to make sure she’s still wet—and hell yeah, she is. She feels good, so good, that I can’t help but finger her for a second, two. Can’t help but delve inside to stroke her G-spot. Just because I can. And because I love the way her head falls back against the wall, the way her eyes close and her skin flushes and she whimpers low in her throat.

“Shawn.” Her voice is raw when she calls my name, and it does something to me, deep inside. “Please.”

It’s all the invitation I need, and with a groan, I slide deep inside her.

She’s tight and wet and hot, so fucking hot that for a second I go into sensory overload. The breathless moans she’s making. The way she smells like jasmine and tastes like lemons. The way her hazel eyes have gone dark, molten green. And most of all, the way she feels.

Jesus, the way this woman feels is designed to bring a man to his knees.

“Shawn,” she says again, and this time it’s little more than a whimper. Her hips are rocking restlessly against mine, her fingernails digging into my shoulders.

It’s that little prick of pain that brings me back, that finally gets me moving. I slide out then slam forward hard enough to have her gasping. Then I do it again and again, reveling in her broken cries and the way she clutches me like I’m the only thing keeping her standing.

“More,” she gasps, arching against me. “Please. More.”

Her voice drives me crazy—as crazy as the feel of her wrapped around my dick—so I give her more. I give her everything I’ve got, pounding into her fast and hard. Again and again and again.

I’m close, so fucking close, but there’s no way I’m coming before her. No way I’m going off before I get to feel her warm, sexy body clenching down on me.

Sliding a hand between us, I stroke my thumb around her clit. Once, twice, then again and again as she cries out brokenly. She’s rocking against me now, setting the pace as her hips move faster and faster.

I love how into this she is, love how she’s all about the pleasure. All about chasing another orgasm. I let her set the pace for a little while, let her take what she needs from me as I pinch her clit between my thumb and forefinger.

She cries out then, bracing her hands on my chest as the pressure continues to build around us—between us.

“Shawn,” she gasps. “I need, I need—”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” My voice is hoarse from restraint, strained from the iron will I’m using to fight off my own climax. I take back over from her, pistoning my hips like a jackhammer against her. “I’ve got you. I’ve got—”

She comes crying out my name, her body convulsing on mine in a rhythm that breaks the last of my determination. I thrust into her once more. Twice. Then I’m coming, coming, coming, emptying myself into her so completely that for a moment—just a moment—I swear I can’t tell where I end and she begins.

Leaning forward, I rest my forehead against hers as the pleasure keeps coming. Swamping me. Dragging me under.

Tags: Tracy Wolff Lightning Romance
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