Good With His Hands (Good in Bed #1)- Lauren Blakely Page 0,37

condom on the nightstand. “Got a favorite position?”

She shakes her head. “It’s been like ten thousand years. I’m not even sure what the positions are anymore.”

I laugh as I open the foil. “Then how about you ride me. Because then I can have my hands all over you.”

“Consider it done,” she says.

I cover myself and she straddles me.

“The parts still go like this?” she asks with a laugh as she reaches for my dick.

“I think so, but let’s try a few times to make sure.”

But I’m not laughing when she wraps a hand around my shaft because holy fuuuuckkkk.

She rises up, holds my cock, then says, “Like riding a bike?”

“Yes, but so much better, sweetheart. So much better,” I say, groaning as she lowers herself.

Slowly, beautifully.

It’s exquisite torture and I want the agony of this moment as Ruby takes me in all the way.

A shudder moves through her body, a gorgeous wave of pleasure.

Her eyes float closed. Her lips part.

Pleasure roars through me from the hot, tight feel of her. She grips my cock so deliciously it’s like she was made for me.

Which is precisely what I can’t be thinking.

So, I focus on the physical.

And that’s no hardship.

I wrap my hands around her hips, gripping her as she moves, slow and lush, on my cock.

She moans and her fingers slide down her breasts, like she’s so wrapped up in the feel of us fucking that she has to touch herself.

“Jesse,” she murmurs, then slinks closer, setting her hands on my chest.

“Feels so damn good, doesn’t it?”

She nods, letting out a long, gorgeous breath as if she can barely take how amazing it feels.

And it is amazing being inside this woman.

This incredible woman who makes my pulse spike and my heart beat faster.

Who makes me think. Who makes me feel.

Who make me want so many risky things.

I slide my hands along her waist, savoring the feel of her soft skin, cupping her breasts as she swivels her hips.

I squeeze her tits and she yelps, a sexy groan that tells me she likes it. So I do it again.

She groans more, her hands pressing harder against my chest as she rocks up and down on my cock.

My Ruby loves to have her tits played with.

Loves to be savored.

Loves to set the pace.

I record all these details about her as I watch her find a rhythm, chase her pleasure, and sway closer and closer to me.

Soon, she’s inches from my mouth, and I have to let go of her tits.

Shame, that.

But there’s this gorgeous ass to hold on to and I grip it, grabbing her tight as I move her faster on my cock.

“Want you to come again. I love seeing you let go,” I say, urging her on.

“Oh God, I want to,” she murmurs, and she sounds lost in pleasure. Absolutely lost, with no interest in being found.

All I want is her bliss.

Her happiness. Her joy.

Because she’s the woman I’ve been dreaming of.

She’s the inevitable.

That’s the trouble. As she fucks me, and I fuck her back, I’m both caught up in the moment and keenly aware that time is slipping away. That my chance with Ruby is ending any day.

That this is more than friends with benefits.

So much more.

But I let all those feelings fade away as Ruby rides me to the edge, crying out, babbling and panting and calling my name as she comes once again on me.

Her whole body trembles, and that’s all I need to chase her and fall with her.

Seems that’s what I’ve been doing since we started this thing.

Falling into her.

15

Ruby

I wake feeling bubbly and delicious and open my eyes, grinning up at an unfamiliar ceiling fan.

For a beat, I’m not sure where I am, but then I turn my head to see the gorgeous man asleep on the pillow beside me and it all comes rushing back—the kissing, the best sex in the history of sex, and falling asleep in Jesse’s arms, finally understanding why people are obsessed with getting it on.

I’ve always enjoyed sex, don’t get me wrong, but last night was next-level nookie.

A ground-breaking, earth-shattering, paradigm-shifting, angels-singing-the-hallelujah-orgasm-chorus experience that has left me forever changed.

And so giddy it’s ridiculous.

I bite my lip, stifling the celebratory sound rising in my throat. Squealing Jesse awake isn’t the way I want to start our “morning after” together. I’d much rather surprise him with French toast and coffee in bed and get creative with the maple syrup after.

The thought of licking maple syrup from Jesse’s lips before dribbling it