I bury my face against his chest as I come, muffling the cry that bursts from my lips as waves of pleasure slam into my core, spreading out to wash every cell with bliss. I feel him jerking inside of me and hold on tighter, whispering nonsense about how beautiful and sexy and amazing he is against his skin long after he’s gone heavy on top of me, catching his breath in the afterglow.
After a few moments, he pulls back, laughing softly as his gaze locks with mine.
“What?” I ask. “Too much praise? Should I tone it down a notch?”
He shakes his head as he smooths my hair fondly from my forehead. “Never. You’re the fucking sweetest. And the sexiest. And I’d really like to do that again as soon as possible.”
I grin. “Ten minutes?”
“Five,” he counters. “Maybe three, if you’re on top of me with your nipples in my mouth.”
“Consider it done,” I say, already aching for him again the second he pulls out to dispose of the condom. “Though I’d really love to put my mouth on you first. I’m experiencing a strange, primal need to have your cock so deep in my throat it’s about to trigger my gag reflex.”
He tosses the condom into the trash basket by the bed and turns back to me, his gaze dark with a hunger that echoes through my every cell. “Fuck, Nat.”
“I have a dirty mouth, too, sometimes,” I say, giggling as he snatches me around the waist and pulls me close with a growl.
“I love it,” he says, kissing me hard as we roll across the bed. “I love it so much, I’m pretty sure you’ve ruined me for all other women.”
I sit back on my heels between his spread legs, teasing my hands up and down his lightly furry thighs. “Not yet, but I will before the night is through. Now, lie back, and let me show your cock how much I adore him.”
And he does.
And I do.
Chapter Fourteen
Cameron
I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this woman.
I do my best to be kind and generous, especially in bed, but not even Mother Theresa levels of goodness could make a man worthy of Nat’s clever tongue and her hot mouth busy on his cock. The clear joy she takes in sucking me back to a hard-on so thick and throbbing I’m afraid I won’t last any longer the second time than I did the first, is humbling.
And hot as ever-loving fuck…
I do my best to think unsexy thoughts—about hungry kids and sick puppies and that time Harlow and I went swimming in a nearly frozen lake on a dare and my balls crawled up into my intestines—but no amount of mental gymnastics can dull the nirvana flowing from my dick to bathe every inch of my skin in pure, carnal joy.
Finally, I have no choice but to fist a hand in the hair at the base of Nat’s neck and gently, but firmly, tug her mouth away from my cock.
“I wasn’t finished,” she says, her breath coming faster as I pull her up my body, kissing her hard as I glide my fingers between her legs, circling her clit.
Her turned-on moan against my lips is enough to make the about-to-blow situation even worse.
For a split second, I think about confessing just how little experience I have with actual sex—maybe that would be better than leaving her to wonder if I’m a chronic Minute Man?—but I love the feel of her writhing on my fingers too fucking much. I don’t want to do anything to dampen the mood.
And all I really need is a little break…a distraction from how good her mouth felt on me to regain control.
And what better distraction than making her come for me?
“Straddle my face,” I murmur against her lips. “I need to taste you again.”
She hesitates for a moment before her breath rushes out. “I’ve never done that before. What if I smother you?”
“You won’t smother me,” I assure her as I circle her waist with my hands, urging her higher on my chest.
She resists for a beat, her hands braced on my shoulders. “I might. I’m heavier than I look. And I’m having way too much fun to kill you on the first date.”
I lift her into the air in response, settling her ass on my chest before running my hands up and down the tops of her thighs. “I think I can handle you.”
“Showoff,” she whispers, arching forward as I cup her breasts, teasing her nipples. “Tell me if I’m doing it weird?”
“Just do what feels good,” I say. “Nothing that makes you feel good is weird in my book, and as long as your pussy is on my face, I’m a happy man.” I moan as she shifts forward, straddling my mouth, sending the lightly sour and fruity scent of her arousal swirling through my head.