Page 119 of Riding the Sugar High

“What is it, Barbie? Tired already?”

“Already?” she asks as I peck her jaw, then the curve of her neck. “What the hell are you made of, titanium?”

“Even harder than that.” I free myself of her hold and kiss her chest.

“Logan, seriously, what’s with all the foreplay?”

I snort against the sweaty skin of her shoulder. “Said no woman ever.”

“It’s been all morning?—”

“Forty-five minutes.”

“Forty-five minutes is a long time to go down on someone!” she squeals.

I guess, but it’s not like we didn’t take breaks. We kissed, we laughed, we chatted. Plus, last night, we collapsed, and I wanted to show her all the fun ways in which I can make her shake. Really, she’s making it sound much more dramatic than it is.

“Your jaw must hurt,” she says as her fingers brush over my beard.

“I like eating your cunt, Barbie. Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” Her fingertips massage my scalp. “But I think there’s a line between liking and obsessing, and we crossed it ten minutes ago.”

“Okay.” I kiss her chest, making my way to her left tit. “Then I’m obsessed.” I wrap my mouth around her small, pink nipple and suck. “With your taste.” I let it go with a loudpop. “With you.”

She breathes out, eyes shuttering. “You can go down on me whenever you want, Logan.”

I lean down, but she grips my shoulders. “Later. Not right now.” She gently pushes my chest until my back is on the mattress. “Now, let’s try something else, okay?”

Watching her straddle me, I swallow. She’s so gorgeous. I can’t decide if she looks better like this, all disheveled, or when she’s dressed to the nines.

I think I like every version of her.

“I hope you’re ready for some moderate fun,” she says as she leans down, her tits pressing against my chest as she hovers on my lips. “It would have been ‘exceptional fun’ two orgasms ago, but my muscles hurt now.”

“Love it when you talk dirty.”

She laughs, her hand cupping my cheek before she leans forward.

Her lips press on mine, and knowing she can taste herself on my tongue is driving me insane. My hands find her hips as my tongue swipes against hers, warm and wet and tasting like summer.

“Hmm,” I moan into her mouth when she grinds over my cock, drenching me as she slides over. My balls tighten, an orgasm threatening to spill, and I try to focus on something else. Anything else. But then she does it again, and the only thing I can think of is the fact that she’s wetting my cock. That she’s so soft and warm. That I need to be inside her, and I need to come, and I needher.

She rises to her knees, and my dick throbs in anticipation. A shiver racks through me when she wraps her hand around it, then dips the tip in. I can’t breathe. Can’t move. Can’t even look at her, because everything is so perfect, and I’m about to feel her cunt again.

Then there’s a knock at the front door, and she freezes, wide eyes staring into mine.

Fuck. No.

“Ignore it,” I say as I grip her hip. My cock sinks a little deeper inside her, and I groan. “I need you to ride my cock, little backpack.”

“What if it’s an emergency?” she whispers, her eyes closing as she lowers herself more.

“Unless it’s a bomb, it’ll wait until this afternoon.”

There’s another knock at the door, and she lifts off me with a sigh.

I want to die.