The Secret (North Woods University 3)
I can feel his hard as steel cock resting against my leg and without thinking I move so my thigh is rubbing against it. He groans against my breast, his hand on my hip tightening as he pulls away slightly. My eyes move over his face, his nostrils are flared, his cheeks are flushed, and he looks sexy, good enough to eat.
“This is not for me… this is all for you.” He leans in, kissing me with a fervor that is contagious. I’m not sure what overcomes me, but I turn into a frenzied animal my teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Both hands move to my hips as if he’s holding me in place, his grip is bruising, but I’m not scared. If anything I’m thrilled. He moans against my skin, the sound only egging me on. My arms snake around his neck, holding onto him, pulling him even closer, as I deepen the kiss.
Heat spreads through my lower half, pooling inside of me, and dribbling out against my thighs. I’m ready for him, beyond ready. I never felt this way before, but I know what it means.
Mumbling against his lips, I tell him, “Touch me.”
He pulls away a millimeter, both our chests are heaving now, sweat beads against his brow and I can tell this is weighing on him, tension coils inside of him, right beneath the surface.
“Are you sure?” I smile, because there is nothing else I could right in this moment that would make this any more perfect than it already is.
“I want you, Clark…” The ache between my legs mount, I grab onto one of his wrists, prying it from my hip, and bringing it to the apex of my thighs. “I want you to touch me here…” My eyes collide with his, and I gasp when I feel one thick digit slip between my folds, grazing my clit. His touch is gentle, soft, but also passionate and urgent at the same time. He moves his finger through my wetness with ease, groaning when he realizes how ready I am for him.
His finger teases my entrance and his thumb finds my clit, the rough pad drawing small circles across the tight bundle of nerves. Holy shit. There’s something magical happening deep in my belly, something awakening inside of me. I grab two fist fulls of sheets on either side of me, feeling compelled to hold on to something or risk floating away.
“Fuck, Em,” Clark hisses, and a moment later he’s entering me, slowly, so slowly it’s almost painful.
“Oh God…” I cry out, unable to keep the words inside. Clark resists the urge to move inside of me letting me adjust to his finger, but I don’t want to adjust I want to feel the pleasure that I know he’s going to deliver. “Please Clark, please…” I plead, staring up at him.
His face is a mask of agony, pure need, and it’s remarkable how he can hold himself back, proving yet again how perfect he is to do this.
“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he growls, and I feel that growl deep in my womb. The muscles clenching around his digit at the sound. Knowing exactly what I need he starts to move, fingering me with a gentle thrust, his biceps trembles with the effort it takes for him to hold back and I swallow thickly as he strokes the fire in my belly with each thrust. It feels as if I’m awakening, deep under the water, racing toward the surface.
Closer and closer I get to the surface, my legs shake, and I bite into my bottom lip a scream building deep in my throat.
“Come for me, Em, let me see what you look like when you fall apart,” Clark whispers against my heated flesh.
“Clark…” The word passes my lips on a scream.
With his finger pumping in and out of me and his thumb on my clit, I go soaring through the water, crashing through the surface. Air fills my lungs and it feels like I’m breathing for the first time, like I’ve been drowning this whole time, and I guess I have.
Until he found me.
Gasping, my eyes fall closed and my channel clenches the muscles contracting as waves of pleasure ripple through the sensitive tissue. Clark’s movements slow, as he milks out my orgasm. When every tremor of pleasure has made its way through me, I force my eyes open and find Clark staring down at me. His gaze is heated, hotter than the sun, with need painted like a red warning label on his face, one that would’ve sent me into a frenzy of fear before I met him.
He starts pulling away, but I grab his forearms, holding him in place. It feels like I’m drunk, my lips are swollen, my mouth is dry, and yet I’ve never been so free. It’s been forever since I felt like I could breathe. I have to repay him, return the favor.