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“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, in awe that I have this man.
“I was thinking the same about you,” he says as I undo the top button and slowly bring the zipper down.
Easton lifts his hips and his cock flings out at full attention.
“That’s a loaded weapon,” I tell him, surrounding his tip with my lips, bobbing down.
I pull him out with a pop and lick down the vein that runs the length of him. He’s so fucking thick that I have trouble fitting him in my mouth at certain angles. I reposition myself so I can take him to the back of my throat. Gently, I grab his balls, and he lets out a groan when my free hand slides up his stomach.
“Lexi,” he whispers, fisting my hair, giving me little tugs that have me squeezing my thighs together.
I want to make him feel so fucking good that he never forgets who he belongs to, temporary or not.
“My bad girl,” he growls out, his hips bucking upward.
I love watching him climb to the top, and I hold him there until he nearly begs, but he won’t. He never does because he loves to watch me play. He enjoys giving me control.
I stroke and suck and lick until he’s nearly trembling. I lift my maxi dress and straddle him. The only thing between us is my panties.
“I feel how wet you are,” he groans and moves my panties to the side.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Ineedyou.”
We had each other for breakfast; now, we’re onto brunch.
I slide out of my panties, making it easier to take him all in. Whimpers release from me as my pussy devours every inch. I’mwet, needy, and when he grazes his thumb across my clit, my bodybegsfor more. It doesn’t take much when we’re together.
Minutes pass like seconds, and our pace slows when Easton is close, teetering on the edge. Our breathing increases, and with his lips and teeth on my neck, we tumble into the abyss together.
The orgasm rips through us and the warmth of him pools deep inside me as we lose ourselves in the moment. When I’m with him, the fog doesn’t clear, and I hope it never does.
After we clean up, I slide my panties over my body.
He searches my face. “Are you happy?”
“You know I am. You can read me too well.”
He smirks. “I can. Just testing you. Also, you must promise not to be mad at me when I tell you something.”
“Uh, no,” I say.
He pulls out his phone, takes a picture of me, and turns it for me to see. “Are those hickeys and teeth marks?”
I chew on the corner of my lip, touching where he was.
He tilts his head, watching my reaction, and fuckingsmirks. “Youlikethat I marked you.”
I can’t deny it. “I like the world knowing that you chose me.”
“They know,” he says. “They all fucking know. And I’d choose you a hundred more times if I could.”
Butterflies flutter and I ask myself if this was ever pretend. The silence draws on as I try to pinpoint the moment I felt the spark between us.
“What are you in your head about, darling?” he asks, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes.
I laugh, hating that he can do that so well. “Stopreading me.”
“You make it too easy,” he mutters as the car takes a turn.