Page 24
"I am. I'm loving it." She lets out a breathless laugh. "Whatever this town has to offer, I want more of it. Please... don't stop."
I don't need to be told twice. I return to my task with renewed focus, circling my tongue around her sensitive clit while my fingers maintain their steady rhythm inside her. Her hips move in counterpoint, seeking more friction and pressure.
The sounds she makes drive me wild—little whimpers and moans that grow more desperate by the second. Her hands move from the couch to my hair, fingers tangling in the short strands, not guiding but holding on as if she might float away without this anchor.
I can feel her getting closer, her inner muscles tightening around my fingers, her breathing becoming more erratic. I increase the pressure of my tongue slightly, curling my fingers more to hit that perfect spot.
"Riley," she gasps, her voice strained. "Right there. Don't stop. Please don't stop."
Her words fuel my determination. I keep the exact same pressure, the exact same rhythm, ignoring the ache in my jaw, the strain in my wrist. Nothing matters except bringing her to the edge and pushing her over.
Her thighs begin to shake again, her grip on my hair tightening almost painfully. I feel the moment she tips over—her body going rigid, her back arching sharply off the couch, a high keening sound escaping her throat as her inner muscles clamp down on my fingers.
I ease my movements but don't stop completely, helping her ride out the waves of her orgasm until she tugs gently at my hair, signaling she's too sensitive for more.
I look up to find her staring at me with wonder, her face flushed, hair a wild tangle around her shoulders. She's never looked more beautiful.
"Come here," she says, voice husky as she tugs me upward.
I move up her body, careful not to crush her with my weight, and she pulls me down for a kiss, seemingly unconcerned about tasting herself on my lips.
When we break apart, she's smiling—a slow, satisfied smile that has my cock straining against my pants.
"That was..." she trails off, apparently unable to find adequate words.
"Good?" I supply, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious.
"Good doesn't begin to cover it." Her hand traces down my chest, over my stomach, to the obvious bulge in my sweatpants. "I want to thank you properly." Her fingers ghost over me through the fabric, "I want to be on top. Would that be okay?"
Chapter 9 - Lucy
"I want to be on top. Would that be okay?"
Riley's amber eyes widen. "It would be my pleasure," he says, his voice rough.
I can't help but smile. "A rugged gentleman. I didn't know they still made those."
"Don't tell anyone," he replies with a hint of that rare smile. "I have a reputation to maintain."
My heart is racing, pounding against my ribs like it might break free. Every nerve ending feels electrified, especially where Riley's hands rest on my hips. Beads of sweat trickle down between my breasts, and I suddenly feel too confined, too hot in what little clothing I have left.
"I need these off," I murmur, pulling my tank top over my head and tossing it aside.
Riley watches, his gaze appreciative rather than judgmental as I bare myself completely to him. I've always been self-conscious about my body—too curvy by modern standards, with hips and thighs that never quite fit into trendy jeans. But the way Riley looks at me like I'm something precious and desirable melts away years of self-doubt.
My eyes drop to the obvious bulge in his sweatpants, visibly throbbing with each beat of his heart. With newfound boldness, I reach for his waistband, tugging at the drawstring.
"May I?" I ask.
He nods, lifting his hips slightly to help as I pull down his sweatpants and briefs. His erection springs free, and I can't help the small gasp that escapes me.
He's... big. Thick and long, with a prominent vein running along the underside. I've never seen anything quite like it, and for a moment, I wonder if I've bitten off more than I can chew—literally.
"Did I do all that?" I ask shyly, gesturing to his impressive arousal.
Riley wraps his hand around himself, giving a slow stroke that makes my mouth go dry.
"Yes," he says simply. "All you."
I don't need to be told twice. I return to my task with renewed focus, circling my tongue around her sensitive clit while my fingers maintain their steady rhythm inside her. Her hips move in counterpoint, seeking more friction and pressure.
The sounds she makes drive me wild—little whimpers and moans that grow more desperate by the second. Her hands move from the couch to my hair, fingers tangling in the short strands, not guiding but holding on as if she might float away without this anchor.
I can feel her getting closer, her inner muscles tightening around my fingers, her breathing becoming more erratic. I increase the pressure of my tongue slightly, curling my fingers more to hit that perfect spot.
"Riley," she gasps, her voice strained. "Right there. Don't stop. Please don't stop."
Her words fuel my determination. I keep the exact same pressure, the exact same rhythm, ignoring the ache in my jaw, the strain in my wrist. Nothing matters except bringing her to the edge and pushing her over.
Her thighs begin to shake again, her grip on my hair tightening almost painfully. I feel the moment she tips over—her body going rigid, her back arching sharply off the couch, a high keening sound escaping her throat as her inner muscles clamp down on my fingers.
I ease my movements but don't stop completely, helping her ride out the waves of her orgasm until she tugs gently at my hair, signaling she's too sensitive for more.
I look up to find her staring at me with wonder, her face flushed, hair a wild tangle around her shoulders. She's never looked more beautiful.
"Come here," she says, voice husky as she tugs me upward.
I move up her body, careful not to crush her with my weight, and she pulls me down for a kiss, seemingly unconcerned about tasting herself on my lips.
When we break apart, she's smiling—a slow, satisfied smile that has my cock straining against my pants.
"That was..." she trails off, apparently unable to find adequate words.
"Good?" I supply, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious.
"Good doesn't begin to cover it." Her hand traces down my chest, over my stomach, to the obvious bulge in my sweatpants. "I want to thank you properly." Her fingers ghost over me through the fabric, "I want to be on top. Would that be okay?"
Chapter 9 - Lucy
"I want to be on top. Would that be okay?"
Riley's amber eyes widen. "It would be my pleasure," he says, his voice rough.
I can't help but smile. "A rugged gentleman. I didn't know they still made those."
"Don't tell anyone," he replies with a hint of that rare smile. "I have a reputation to maintain."
My heart is racing, pounding against my ribs like it might break free. Every nerve ending feels electrified, especially where Riley's hands rest on my hips. Beads of sweat trickle down between my breasts, and I suddenly feel too confined, too hot in what little clothing I have left.
"I need these off," I murmur, pulling my tank top over my head and tossing it aside.
Riley watches, his gaze appreciative rather than judgmental as I bare myself completely to him. I've always been self-conscious about my body—too curvy by modern standards, with hips and thighs that never quite fit into trendy jeans. But the way Riley looks at me like I'm something precious and desirable melts away years of self-doubt.
My eyes drop to the obvious bulge in his sweatpants, visibly throbbing with each beat of his heart. With newfound boldness, I reach for his waistband, tugging at the drawstring.
"May I?" I ask.
He nods, lifting his hips slightly to help as I pull down his sweatpants and briefs. His erection springs free, and I can't help the small gasp that escapes me.
He's... big. Thick and long, with a prominent vein running along the underside. I've never seen anything quite like it, and for a moment, I wonder if I've bitten off more than I can chew—literally.
"Did I do all that?" I ask shyly, gesturing to his impressive arousal.
Riley wraps his hand around himself, giving a slow stroke that makes my mouth go dry.
"Yes," he says simply. "All you."