Wind Therapy - A.J. Downey Page 0,55

face between my hands, and deepening the kiss. I was a starving man desperate for the nourishment only her touch could provide.

She was in it to win it, her hands slipping under the blankets, one reaching into the front of my boxers, gripping my cock firmly but carefully, massaging the already hard length of my shaft with this little magic twist of her wrist that sent me groaning all over again.

The little whimper of desire that escaped her lips was like candy – sweet, sensual, sumptuous on my tongue and stoking the fires of my desire for her even higher.

I rolled her onto her back in the bed we shared, nudging her knees apart with mine, shoving the tee she wore out of my way so I could kiss my way down her body, spending a length of time at each of her pert breasts, lavishing the nipples with attention. Her fingers caressed through my hair, her ragged breathing encouraging me, her slight whimpering moans begging me for more and I was going to give her my all – just on my own time.

“Maverick,” she gasped when I started to work my way down her flat, toned stomach, her voice breathy, begging, and I loved the sound of my name on her lips.

I hooked fingers into the waistband of the pair of my boxers she wore and swept them down her long, shapely legs to get them out of my way. I wanted my mouth on her sweet cunt. I could never get enough of her taste; like summer sunshine on my tongue, and I wasted no time in feasting on her. I wanted to rock her world, so I slid a finger up inside her, teasing around for the right spot – there, right there. I knew because her hips bucked, her voice flying from her mouth in surprise.

I dipped another finger up into her wetness and hooked them in a come-hither motion, riding the pads over that rough, plump, patch of her anatomy guaranteed to drive her wild.

Her reaction did not disappoint, one hand knotting into the sheets at her hip, the other pressed to her mouth, trying to muffle her cries as I worked her inside with my fingers and her clit with my tongue. My free arm I had to use as a bar across her hips, restraining her to the bed as I worked my magic on her.

She was dripping wet, hot, and slick against my hand, and I wanted to push her over the edge so damn bad. I wanted her to come screaming, wanted her to come so hard all she could do was lie there and take my cock whichever way I chose to give it to her.

I would not be denied, not unless she told me to stop, and by the heavily lidded and passionate look she gave me between the valley of her breasts, down the length of her perfect body where it met mine, she had no desire whatsoever to be done with this.

She tangled one of her hands in my hair and pulled my mouth tightly against her body where I brought it to life with my tongue.

Game on, my little rabbit… I thought to myself, and really teased her g-spot to life.

“Oh, God…” she gave a strangled cry and fell back against the hard plane of mattress beneath us as I wound her up to watch her go.

She came beautifully for me. I loved that about her. So expressive, she used her whole body freely when she felt this good. When she could get out of her own head which is right where I wanted her to be, away from the past, fully present, with me.

She arched off the bed, tits thrust artfully to the water-stained ceiling tiles of the cheap-ass motel room, her legs snapping closed around my head as she sat up, trying to get away from me – but I wouldn’t have it. I kept at her clit with my tongue, kept at her G-spot with my fingertips and dragged her gasping and crying out through the storm of her orgasm and through to the other side.

She collapsed back onto the bed and I rose above her to take her in, lying beneath me, eyes glazed, pupils dilated in the soft lamplight. Her perfect breasts rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath, golden skin lightly dewy with a shimmer of sweat.

She looked fresh, beautiful, sated, and I smiled at that. I