Mr. Knightsbridge (The Mister 2) - Page 35

“I’m fucking you. We’re fucking.” Sweat sheeted my skin and my lungs filled and emptied as if I was approaching the finishing line on a marathon. But I didn’t care. All I could focus on was this woman beneath me who had me so wound up.

I pulled out and moved her leg from one side to the other so she was on her side and then I pushed in again. The blood sang in my veins as it pumped around my body, pulsing in my wrists, neck and cock. I positioned her leg further up so I could get deeper. I wanted to crawl into her and become one person.

Her hand clamped around the arm that was holding her leg in place and she looked at me, her gaze full of vulnerability and desperation. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.” Her head tipped back and her entire body began to convulse. From this angle, as she clamped around my cock, I couldn’t hold back any longer, didn’t want to. We should have this moment together.

I cried out, ramming myself into her one final time before collapsing behind her.

I wanted to stay like this forever.

Spent.

Floating.

Exhausted but so fucking happy.

Her body sprawled half on mine, and the rise and fall of her rib cage had me mesmerized.

Had sex ever been so all-consuming? So intense?

She made to roll away from me and I circled my arms around her waist, shifted and pulled her toward me so we were spooning. She smelled good, like vanilla and flowers. Sliding her hand back, she grasped my thigh, as if she wanted to actively hold me, like it wasn’t enough for me to be holding her. It was as if she couldn’t take without giving at the same time.

“That was . . .” She paused but I wasn’t going to make a suggestion to end her sentence. “What would you say that was?” she asked, and I tried to push down the belly laugh she elicited.

“Sex?” I suggested.

“What kind of sex?” she asked. “Like, normal first-time sex?”

“You want me to mark it out of ten?” I didn’t think she’d object if it confirmed what she suspected—that nothing about that had been normal first-time sex.

She elbowed me in the ribs. “I just . . . that wasn’t normal first-time sex for me,” she confessed. “Not normal anytime sex.”

My chest expanded at the thought that I’d been able to fuck her properly for the first time. But perhaps I was looking at this wrong; perhaps she was fucking me properly for the first time.

“We’re still doing the sex,” I replied. “It’s not finished yet.” I leaned across the bed with one hand and grabbed another condom.

I’d gotten hard again almost immediately. No, nothing about tonight was normal first-time sex.

“I’m not going to have time to make the pie,” she said as I slid into her.

“You want my dick or the pie?” I thrust into her again, and she placed my hands on her breasts.

“Is it wrong to want both?” she asked, twisting her hips.

I picked up my pace. “So greedy.” Truth was, I was the greedy one. I just couldn’t get enough of her.

After too short a time, our orgasms collided and we lay tangled and sweaty, breaths choppy, limbs heavy.

She shifted and I pulled her closer. I wanted to keep her beside me, entwined with me. I didn’t want her going anywhere.

“I need to use the restroom,” she said.

Reluctantly, I released my grip and watched as she didn’t even attempt to cover up as she strode to the loo. Fuck, I liked everything about this woman. “Hey, Gabriel’s having a birthday party on Saturday. Want to come?”

No answer.

Maybe it was too much too soon—meeting the friends.

“Who’s Gabriel?”

I turned and found her leaning, completely naked, on the door jamb. Her hair hung over her shoulders, almost covering up the perfectly sharp nipples that managed to jut out from beneath the treacle-colored hair.

“You’re beautiful,” I said, tucking my hands under my head.

“You too. Who’s Gabriel? One of your pack?”

“Yeah. The best looking one of us if you ask me.”

Her lips curled into a grin as she approached the bed. “Where do you rank? Because if you’re not the best looking one, I can’t wait to meet Gabriel.”

I grabbed her and pulled her on top of me. “Sorry to disappoint. He’s married.” Separated, technically, but he wasn’t dating.

She sighed melodramatically. “Darn,” she said as she pressed a kiss against my cheek. Rearranging herself, she sat astride me. “You want to go to a party together?” she asked. “I thought we agreed that this was just between us. I was serious when I said I didn’t want anyone at work to find out.”

“No one from work will be there. Come on. It will be fun. It’s a fancy-dress party. I get to channel my inner geek, which I’m sure you’ll take every opportunity to exploit. And if you’re with me, I don’t have to wonder about what you’re doing.”

Tags: Louise Bay The Mister Romance
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