touch him, I desperately need to feel all this homegrown hardness inside me, so I lean forward, swipe my tongue over his crown to taste his tanginess, and shimmy back to the middle of the bed.
He sheathes himself and crawls between my legs. Big, rough hands grip my hips and move me around, putting me in the position he wants. I have to say, something about the way this man takes charge really excites me, leaves me breathless.
He falls over me, his weight crushing me as his lips find mine again in a kiss so hard and possessive, rough and demanding, it fills me with an unfamiliar kind of want. The kind of want that could make a girl fall and fall hard. But I’m too smart for that. I wrap my legs around him and tug, and the tip of his cock presses against my opening.
“Yes,” I murmur.
I inch up, wanting more, all of him, and he repositions, leans to the side, and grips his cock. He holds it and runs it over my clit before sliding in an inch. My eyes roll back in my head, and I take a fast breath. My throat dries, and I swallow as he pushes into me. One hard thrust until he’s seated high inside me, filling me in a way I’ve never been filled before. That’s a whole lot of nice.
“Jay,” I yelp and lift up a bit. He slides his hand around my head, holds my hair, and brings my mouth to his. His tongue glides in as his cock fills with heated blood, swelling even more inside me. He inches back and drives into me again as I clutch at him, run my fingers over his hard, rippling muscles. My sex muscles quake, and my nipples press against his chest as he takes me to the precipice and leaves me hanging there.
“Touch yourself,” he whispers. “Show me how you did it while you were thinking of me.”
“First the shoes and now this,” I murmur. “Who knew the hot farmer next door was a kinky kind of guy?”
He grins. “You think I’m hot.”
I laugh. Honest to God, I’ve never laughed during sex before, but with him it’s…fun.
“And that was your takeaway?”
I slide my hand between our bodies, and he repositions in a move that’s not hurried or scripted. With an ease about him, no choreographed moves, nothing he’s rehearsed for years, he runs his hands over my body, a soft exploration, an easy introduction, as he goes back on his knees, lifting me up to keep himself buried inside my sex.
“Ooh,” I say, my head dizzy like I’m drugged as he introduces me to a new position. “I like this.”
“Here you thought I had no moves,” he teases. I run my hand over my stomach, and the second I touch myself, pulse against my fingers, his growl curls around me. “Just so you know, you weren’t the only one struggling all week.”
“No?”
He snorts out a laugh. “I’ve never abused myself so much in all my life.”
I laugh at that, but it turns into a moan as he fills me completely. Deep and hard, he pushes into me, and I lift with him to meet each thrust. His hips power forward, and I surge upward, our bodies meeting, becoming one.
He works his hips, filling me, stretching me, unleashing a side of himself I hadn’t yet seen but like immensely. I let go with him, and honestly, I barely know him, but there’s something about his confidence, his certainty, the way he’s just being with me that gives me a sense of safety, like I could surrender to him and not get hurt.
My thoughts shift when a hot jolt of pleasure pulls at me—a second time. I’ve never orgasmed twice in a row before, but holy hell, I’m right there again. I buck against him, searching, seeking, wanting more. Bodies entwined, we both push and pull—greedy and generous—as we give and take.
“You’re so tight and wet,” he says and rocks into me harder and faster. His eyes meet mine, and the raw desire I spot as we meld into one excites me, pushes me over the edge until I shatter and climax all around his beautiful cock.
“Jesus.” A deep shudder rockets through him, and he grunts. “Alyson,” he murmurs and buries his face in my neck.
“I feel you,” I say as he pulses inside me.
I hold his body, absorb his tremors as he releases. My sex hugs him tight, keeping him high