Page 116 of Mended Fences

I was still recovering from the first orgasm that rocketed through my system, blazing fire through my veins.

“No,” I wheezed. “Need you inside me.”

“I’ll give you anything you need, Elena.” Chase kissed the top of my head as his hands roamed my body reverently, lovingly. “Anything.”

I slipped my hands from around his neck, and this time, he didn’t stop me. I gripped the tank top that was bunched up around my chest, brought it over my head, and tossed it to the floor. Chase’s hands moved up to grip my breasts, far more than the handful they once were.

“God, these tits are amazing. Might just have to keep you pregnant.”

I choked on a laugh and felt him smile against my head. I brought my hands to his, squeezing his so that he squeezed me. A long, low moan vibrated through me.

I spun around, breaking our connection to work at the fly of his jeans. I needed his pantsoff, and fast. I peeked up to see Chase’s hands on the top of his head and him looking down at me as I worked frantically to get his jeans and underwear off. “A little help here?”

“Nah, you got it.”

I snorted.

“Shit, Lane, you know it makes me hard when you do that.”

“You were already hard.”

“Yeah, but I am actively trying to restrain myself from blowing my load all over your hot little hands.”

“Do the baseball player trick. You’ll be fine.”

He chuckled. “You know all my secrets.”

I sank to my knees, dragging his clothes down with me, and peered up at him. “And you know mine.”

When my knees hit the floor, his cock sprang free, slapping against the soft cotton of his shirt. He reached behind his head and whipped the shirt off in one swift movement, exposing the rigid, sculpted muscles of his abdomen. I reached out and traced a fingertip along the grooves between each defined rectus abdominis segment, starting at the top. By the time I reached the bottom, my finger ghosted along the line of coarse hair leading down to the dark, tamed patch at the base of his beautiful cock.

Thick, engorged, and impossibly hard—it pulsed like an exposed artery, every throb a delicious reminder of arousal-induced vasodilation.

“Your dick is a medical marvel. Absolutely perfect.”

“Yeah, that’s great, Doc,” Chase said through stuttered breaths. “Spit on it.”

I was practically drooling already, staring at his flawless body. I tilted my head, but I didn’t hesitate. I leaned forward, let it fall—wet and messy—right onto the head of his cock.

Both of our gazes were fixed on the path that hot pool of saliva took as it coated his perfect length.

My control snapped. I gripped his hips, darting my tongue out to lick up my own spit, opposite the path it had taken—base to tip—before swirling around the head and flicking his frenulum.

His hips jerked, and I pulled back.

“That little strip right there?” I asked, dragging my fingertip along it. “The frenulum. Densely innervated. Very responsive.”

He growled something unintelligible and arched into my hand.

I slid it down to grip him at the base then dove down, taking him to the back of my throat in one smooth motion.

He groaned and threw his head back as I hollowed my cheeks, sucking hard and gliding my tongue along the underside as I pulled back.

“That’s it, baby. Take my cock.”

I popped off, glaring up at him. “Mycock.”

His eyes softened as he ran a gentle hand through the hair at my temple.