Until Sage (Until Him 2)

Pulling at his shirt, he does a half ab crunch and we yank his shirt off and toss it to the bed. Then his hands slide up my back, and I feel his fingers as they work the clasp of my bra. When that’s gone, he drops it on top of his shirt. Pressing my chest into his, my nipples scrape against the light smattering of hair on his chest, and my tongue flicks against his, earning me a growl of approval that I feel tingle between my thighs.

He rolls me to my back, his mouth leaving mine, and his head dips so he can lick over one of my nipples while his fingers tweak and pull the neglected one. Back arching, I wrap my legs around his hips, seeking the friction I so desperately need between my legs. My body is buzzing. I never knew it was possible to have an orgasm from just my nipples being sucked and a little bit of clit stimulation, but I feel the pull of arousal in my lower belly, the telltale sign that if I move my hips just right, I might come.

“Sage,” I pant, and his hand and mouth leave my breast.

Leaning back, he looks down at me. I think he’s going to stop again, so I do the only thing I can think of. I lean up and press my mouth to his while rubbing my palm over his huge erection through his jeans. Groaning, he pushes my hand away. I want to pout, but before I can, his fingers move to the button of my jeans, and in one flick of his fingers, he has them undone and his fingers are sliding over my pubic bone. Down they go, zeroing in on my clit with an accuracy that has me thrusting my hips up into his fingers.

“So goddamn wet. How did I forget how wet you get for me?” he asks against my lips, and I moan, digging my nails into his back. I’m close, so close. Thrusting my hips up, my breath catches when his fingers thrust into me, first one then two, both curving up and hitting that spot deep inside of me that has me seeing stars. “Jesus, your pussy is squeezing the fuck out of my fingers,” he rumbles, taking my bottom lip into his mouth and pulling it between his teeth.

“Sage!” I cry out as my orgasm explodes through me, leaving me lightheaded and limp. I’m panting as my eyes open and I find him staring down at me.

“So fucking beautiful. Better than I remember,” he whispers, and I lick my lips then sit up. Forced to pull his fingers from me, he puts them in his mouth and his eyes fall closed. “Definitely better than I remember.” His eyes open, and I push him to his back.

“Please,” I whisper when he tries to stop me from unhooking his jeans. Studying me for a moment, he gives in with a shake of his head and lies back. Releasing him, I watch his long, thick cock flex up toward me and my mouth waters. He’s perfect everywhere; even his cock is perfect, long, smooth, and hard with thick veins that run the length of it.

I wrap my fingers around him and my pussy contracts when they don’t meet. I remember what it felt like to have him inside me, the stretch and slow burn of pleasure he brought on with each thrust. Looking up at him, I place my lips around the head of his cock and slowly sink down on it, taking him as far as I can go without gagging. Keeping my hand at the base, I twist and pull while I suck and lick, watching his expression as I drive him closer to the edge.

“Fuck, baby.” His fingers slide into my hair, and his abs tighten as he leans up to watch me take him into my mouth. “Jesus, I’m gonna fucking come,” he warns.

Taking him even deeper, I work my hand in faster strokes. I want him on my tongue and down my throat. I want him to come in my mouth. I want to taste the pleasure I’ve given him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants as his eyes close and his hips lift off the bed, sending him down my throat as he comes.

Swallowing down every last drop, I lick him clean, wondering what the hell came over me. I’ve never swallowed before… or enjoyed giving a blowjob, for that matter. But I did enjoy giving one to him. No, I didn’t enjoy it; I loved it.

“Christ.” He pulls me up under my arms onto his chest then kisses me deep and wet before pulling back, studying me. “Now I’m even more pissed at myself for walking away,” he mutters.

I can’t help it. The comment is sincere and so funny that I laugh loudly and drop my forehead to his pec. Hearing my stomach growl a second later, I lean back to look at him. “I think I’m still hungry,” I tell him, and he smiles then leans up, kissing me softly before dragging me from the bed, handing me my bra once I’m standing.