Page 83 of My Sweetest Agony

It was only a matter of time.

I just didn’t expect it to come to a head sitting on a bench in his mother’s garden while a party raves inside.

His fingers curl into that perfect spot inside me as he continues to probe and drag them along my inner wall while his thumb spirals around my clit in loose circles that make blood rush in my ears and my limbs tingle.

I drag my mouth away, gasping, desperate for oxygen, for more friction, for more everything.

“Drew, please…”

I whimper in the most unattractive, despondent sound I think I’ve ever made, and his hand stills for a second, fingers embedded deep inside me. He searches my face, eyes raking over every inch of me and finally focusing on my parted lips. A storm rages in his eyes, swirling hot and dark, and he redoubles his effort, pumping into me harder, rolling his thumb faster until my orgasm starts to build.

Heat flaring.

Flames rippling.

Ecstasy stacking higher and higher and higher until my body is coiled so tightly and ready to fly that if I don’t come soon, my heart may lose its ability to keep pumping in time with the throbbing between my legs.

He captures my mouth again and kisses me hard. Deep. The kind of kiss that’s intended to claim me. And I want to let him.

I groan and tighten my grip on his shirt, my hips rolling against his hand as he continues to fuck me mindlessly with his fingers until I finally reach that pinnacle I’ve been racing toward.

My sharp cry slips from my lips, but he catches the sound, swallowing it as I jerk in his hold, my pussy pulsing and clenching around his fingers as he keeps rolling his thumb across my clit and dragging out my orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you come, Ivy.”

His ministrations continue, expertly playing over me until I finally collapse, sagging forward against him, dropping my forehead to his chest as I struggle to find my breath and thoughts through the fog overtaking my head.

Drew stills his hand between my legs, but he doesn’t pull his fingers free.

He holds me like this for a few moments, his hand cupping my neck as my pussy flutters along his fingers with the final aftershocks of my release. My eyes flutter open to find his hard cock straining under front of his jeans. I stare down at it, clenching around him, wanting exactly what he said he did earlier.

For him to be inside me.

To feel that kind of fullness and passion.

He gently drags my face back with his hold on my neck and kisses me softly, almost reverently, as he draws his fingers from my pussy and adjusts my dress into place.

When he starts to pull back, I continue to clutch his shirt, not ready to lose his heat or the feeling of him pressed against me. But he doesn’t go far, just enough to slip his hand up between us and slide his glistening fingers into his mouth.

“Fuck, Ivy.” A growl of contentment fills his chest. “I knew you would taste incredible.” He licks them clean, a vision of his tongue doing that to my thighs and between them making me clench again. “But I certainly never expected this.”

I barely manage to breathe, let alone get a word out. “Expect w-what?”

“For you to be so open.” His gaze holds mine. “So giving.”

“But…I haven’t done anything.”

He nods slowly, brushing his thumb across my thrumming pulse. “You’ve given me the one thing I thought I would never have…”

I tilt my head, trying to figure out what he’s talking about through the lingering haze of lust that seems to be fogging my brain. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He offers me an almost sad smile and kisses me one last time. “Take a second to collect yourself, and I’ll meet you back inside. I have something I have to take care of.”

No.

Don’t go.

It’s stupid to want him to stay.