Page 43 of Swept Away

He lifts his drink from the table and tilts it against his lips, his fingers still inside me, and I wait for him patiently, propped back on my elbows, squeezing my thighs so I can fuel the tension inside me and perfectly revel in every pulsation.

My need to come is so intense it almost hurts.

He shifts back to me, shirtless, heat rolling off his chest, fire in his mouth, and presses his lips against mine.

We slowly kiss and drink the bourbon while he slowly finger fucks my center.

A surging wave of heat breaks through me, and I wrap my arm around his neck and slide my free hand to his groin.

His cock already juts out, hard as wood, chiseled to perfection, and wet at the tip.

I want to take him into my mouth so badly, but I’m not sure we have enough time for that.

This thing will be complicated either way.

Whether we do it or not, this won’t be enough.

Now I wish we were at my place and fucked the entire night.

“No condom,” I say as I rub his cock. “Are you okay with that?”

“I am if you are,” he says, tossing a wrapper on the coffee table just in case.

I push upright and take him into my mouth, forcing him to peel his fingers away from my pussy, my mouth burning from the hard liquor, his nipples tightening from the arousal, a raspy groan leaving his lips.

His hands come to my head as I suck on his hard flesh and choke on him.

“Easy, baby…” he says, a sense of urgency streaming through his voice. “Let me fuck you, yeah?”

I nod and fall back.

“This won’t be our last. I promise you,” he says, and slowly enters me.

I can’t hold myself back, and the moment I feel him inside me, his weight on top of me, his hand grabbing at my chest, I explode with lust and bliss under his frame.

I come so quickly that I catch him off guard.

Still, he fucks me through my orgasm, holding me down and covering my mouth.

I writhe beneath him, soaked in sweat and rocking with need.

My body finally settles down, and he keeps moving into me, quietly shushing me, his elbows on either side of me, his fingers threaded through my hair.

His hard flesh burning, sliding through my juices, which now trickle down my legs.

We’ve made a mess.

I’m sure there’s a puddle under me, and it’s probably stained the couch, yet all I do is run my hands down his back, wanting more of him.

He’s fucking me at a slower pace as if waiting for me to scale up again.

I don’t even know if I can do that.

Especially now that I’m getting all stressed out that Carter might walk in on us.

On the other hand, I don’t know anyone who showers for that long, and I’m convinced he’s purposely left us alone.

“Maybe we should go to my place,” I say as he enters me repeatedly, his lips tracing down my neck.