Page 35

I giggle as he presses my knees in a butterfly position, and every time my legs try to close, he forces them wide. “You’re making me come again.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

His tongue flickers, then drags. Flickers, then drags. His finger curls inside me until I can no longer breathe, and an orgasm so explosive bursts from my body. My back arches, and my toes curl. Even with John holding my legs, they don’t close but straighten. My lids close, allowing myself to bask in the feel of John’s hands caressing my legs and kissing my center.

Bliss is real. My body relaxes, and John peppers my legs, torso, and chest with tiny, incomplete kisses like he’s opening and almost closing but doesn’t quite make it as his bottom lip hangs back, trailing behind.

When he reaches my lips, I taste the tanginess of me on his tongue. At first, I draw back. Dennis never kissed me after going down on me. Why? Did I not want him to? Did I ever ask him to?

“Sweet Becca has a little spice,” John says, dipping his finger into my mouth. I wrap my lips around it in a pucker. I hope it looks like those sexy girls with a lollipop, but I know it doesn’t. “I’m going to kiss you until there’s no more Becca on my tongue.”

John pulls me into his lap, wrapping my legs around him, and we explore and taste until our bodies want more.

He mumbles over my lips, “What do you want Becca?”

“I want you to break me, and I… want to break you.” I say as my chest heaves, and my heart pounds wildly, so much that my ribs physically hurt.

“The moment your lips touched mine, you broke me.”

My heart stammers. A slow burn unfurls in my chest because I’ve never seen this side of John. He cared for me and talked me off a mental ledge when Mamaw died. Then, through the divorce, he always told me everything will work out. But have Iever seen him so vulnerable and exposed to tell me that I already broke him?

No.

His eyes normally sparkle with mischief and arrogance. Not now. The desire in his eyes is palpable. His rough and tender hands slide along my skin as we lean into each other.

He rises from the floor, pressing my heated skin against the cool glass. With his strong forearm underneath my ass, the other one glides his length through my folds. I’m already wet, but he continues to tease me.

“Wait. Wait,” I say in a tight whisper. “Condom.”

John’s head falls back from my neck, expelling a groan, and I attempt to wiggle down his body, but he secures me with both hands. He quickly moves us into the bathroom, his hand shuffling through his travel bag. His lips smile against mine when I hear the crackling of the foil packet.

He sits me on the sink and hands me the packet. “It’s time to see if it was a truth or a lie. Ready to see if it fits?”

I swallow deep and slow. John’s been in my mouth and instead of thinking the condom will be too big, I’m wondering if the magnum size will be too small. Placing the thin metal sheeting between my teeth, I pull the packet in the opposite direction until the unmistakable sound of the seal breaking open swooshes.

Hanging his head to watch me roll it on, one hand plays with my hair. It’s a beachy mess, filled with sand, but he seems to love it. “Don’t be shy. He’s been waiting a long time for this.”

I smirk, “He has?”

He nods with his lids heavy as I roll it to the base of his shaft.

“It’s a little big… the condom,” I say in a teasing tone.

John’s eyes pop wide. “What?”

“The condom is a little big,” I reiterate.

He looks down between us and laughs. “Too big? It’s cutting my damn circulation off, and I need the circulation because…”

I pull him between my knees. Our kisses start off sweet, but before I know it, we’re back against the patio glass, sweating with desire.

Even though his dick is sheathed, I can feel it pulse as he slides through my folds. He rubs his head against my clit. Dennis never realized that my bundle of nerves was the key for me having orgasms. But John innately knows. Teasing my entrance with his large head, he whispers, “I hope you’re ready to break. You’re a strong, sinfully beautiful woman, and I know you can take every inch.”

I’m climaxing by his words, producing the coating we need since the rubber isn’t lubricated.

My pulse skitters as he inches in, moving and swirling his hips. Then suddenly, he pushes all the way in, and I yelp in pain.

“Relax, give it a minute for your body to adjust.” He rocks from side to side, up and back and he must feel my muscles uncoil and says in a raw, hungry tone, “I promise you’ll be begging for it deeper and harder.” Then he whispers again, “Deeper and harder.”