I spread my thighs wider for him. I suck in a sharp breath as I feel one of his fingers stroking me open. Sliding inside.
My spine arches at the intimate pleasure of it, and my mouth falls open in a soundless exclamation.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs, kissing a spot at the base of my throat that he discovered I liked earlier. “Too fast?”
“Fast?” I choke, gripping handfuls of his hair since it’s the only thing I can find to hang on to. “You think this is fast? I thought you were dragging it out on purpose out of some need to feed your ego.”
That amuses him. I can feel laughter shake through his body. The feel of it is as powerful as his kisses and caresses—just in a different way.
I really can’t believe that I can make this man laugh. I’m not even really trying.
“My ego is doing just fine. I really just want to make sure it’s good for you.” He gives one of my nipples a gentle tug with his teeth, and the pleasure is so sharp I make a sound between a gasp and a cry.
“I appreciate that,” I say raggedly. I’ve relaxed my fingers in his hair and smooth down the mess I’ve made of it. “I really do. But I’ve already told you that this is way better than I was expecting, so you don’t need to make it last all night.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Why shouldn’t you what?” I’m usually a quick thinker. I can only assume that too much foreplay has slowed my mental acumen.
“Why shouldn’t we make it last all night?” He finally starts to move his finger, pumping it inside me.
I toss my head back and forth on the mattress as the pleasure intensifies. We’re still sprawled out sideways, nowhere close to a pillow. “Well... because...” I’m trying. Fighting through the rising sensations. Struggling to say something lucid. “Because all night... is a really... long time.”
“Yes. It is.” He adds a second finger to the first and moves his mouth back down to my breast. He’s been moving around a lot up to this point. Trying different things. Never letting me settle into one particular move or caress.
But he’s focused down now. He suckles my nipple as he pumps two fingers inside me, and I know for sure I’m going to come soon.
It’s not going to take very long.
I’ve bent up my legs without thinking, planting my feet on the mattress in some instinctive desire to ride his hand. My skirt is hiked up around my waist in a very undignified way, but for some reason it makes me feel sexier. I’m afraid if I grab for his hair again, I’ll pull it so hard it would hurt him, so I grab for his shoulders instead. He’s still wearing his shirt. The only things he’s taken off so far are his shoes and jacket.
“Is this working for you?” he mumbles over my breast, momentarily pausing from what he was doing.
“Yes. Yes! Don’t stop.” So maybe I sound a little desperate. There’s nothing in the world I can do about that.
He’s smiling as he starts up again with his hand and his mouth. I can’t see his face, but I know what his expression looks like. I can feel it. And I love it. I love it as much as the way he’s touching me right now.
He fucks me with his fingers and works at my breast until an orgasm has coiled hard inside me, just on the edge of release. I’m practically sobbing—not loud but helpless—as I claw at his shirt, trying desperately to hang on to something as my body comes apart.
It does. Comes apart. I jerk and shudder and whine and sniff and flail about in a completely uninhibited way.
Uninhibited for me. I’m not screaming my head off or banging the headboard against the wall or anything like that. But I’m feeling too much—too good—to control my body. I let it do what it wants to do, and that’s definitely a new experience for me.
Richard is still smiling as he raises his head and watches me as he strokes me through the climax. His hand slows down until it’s almost gentle as the final aftershocks run through me, making me shiver.
I’ve relaxed back onto the bed now, my body soft and replete. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling, holding at bay any self-consciousness or anxiety that might be tempted to creep back in, now that I’ve gotten what I