Faker - Sarah Smith Page 0,106
my lips squashes all lingering self-doubt. I’m vibrating with lust and confidence now. I yank his belt buckle loose and unbutton his trousers. He takes over and unzips, giving me a chance to slide back up the bed. I bite my lip, eagerly awaiting his big reveal. When he lowers his gray boxer briefs, my jaw drops. All those times I pressed against his erection while we fooled around fully clothed did not prepare me. As impressive as he felt under fabric, it was nothing compared to what’s in front of my face right now.
“Wow.” My mouth stays open even after I finish speaking.
He smiles slightly, and a tiny bit of pink makes it onto his cheeks. Quickly, I grip his hand. I don’t want him to lose his nerve.
“Well, don’t just stand there.” I pull him to the bed.
He chuckles and lands on top of me, propping himself on his elbows. He reaches over my head and opens the drawer of his nightstand for a condom. When he’s ready, he slides in.
I gasp and my eyes widen. He seems to know I want to take this slow, because he inches into me with measured control. When I feel the full length of him, I have to take a handful of deep breaths. No man has delivered this much pleasure to my body at the mere point of entry. Normally, there are kinks to work out the first few times I’m with someone, but Tate is a master. Or an anomaly.
He begins a series of slow thrusts, and my breathing becomes desperate. I bite my lower lip to keep from yelling.
“Enjoying yourself?” He manages to sound professional and in control. If we weren’t naked in his bed, I’d assume he was making small talk in the Nuts & Bolts break room.
I nod frantically. He picks up the speed, then slows down. He switches rhythm again and again until I’m yelping.
“Tell me what you want,” he says with a grunt. Not so in control anymore. I moan with satisfaction.
“This. Keep doing this. Please.” I claw my nails into his shoulders to demonstrate just how much I’m enjoying the present activities. His fingers slide against my scalp and fist my hair in response.
Sweat beads dot the top of his forehead. Just the sight of him causes me to tighten around him. He’s hitting something inside of me no one has before. I don’t know if it’s his size, girth, or technique, and I don’t particularly care. I’m just ecstatic it’s happening. It’s raw and severe and makes me cry out.
He pauses the heavenly thrusting to sit up, and I whine. But then he hooks both of my legs over his shoulders and resumes the pace.
“Holy God,” I slur.
This is heavenly. This is otherworldly. This is all the adjectives I can’t think of because my mind is a pleasure-filled balloon ready to burst. I’ve done this position in the past, but it’s never, ever felt like this. Tate has mastered it. His heroic stamina puts to shame all the men I’ve been with previously. No man should ever attempt this move without consulting him first so he can tell them how to do it correctly.
The pleasure is building to an unfamiliar point. I can’t remember a single time when it’s ever felt this intense this quickly. The intensity of his heavy, even pace keeps my throat in a near-constant squeeze. I choke on a gasp.
“Don’t stop,” I groan. My head dips back when he hits a particularly deep spot.
For an untold number of minutes I’m on the cusp of exploding. I take in the close view of his bare shoulders and biceps, glistening with sweat.
“I want you every way I can have you,” he says.
The gentle tone combined with the tickle of his breath against my ear works wonders. I have to pull from my deepest inner reserves to keep my composure underneath him. I steady my breathing. My mission, if I choose to accept it, is to keep myself from losing it too soon. And, boy, will I ever try. That’s one for the record books. Never have I ever had to stop myself from reaching climax too quickly. I’ve always had to consciously remind myself to relax, let go, and on those rare occasions that I’m lucky and the stars align, it comes. Not tonight. Tonight my entire body is begging for release. I’m teetering on the edge, an inch from falling. I want to savor every morsel.
Just when I think