Beautiful Player
Page 67
“I like when you’re hungry like this,” I murmured into her skin. “I feel like I can’t get my fill of you. Just like this, against me, under me.”
“Will . . .” She pushed into me, sliding her hands over my shoulders.
I could hear the rustle of the sheets as we moved, the slick sounds of our lovemaking, and nothing else. The rest of the world seemed to have fallen away, been put on mute.
She was quiet, too, staring, fascinated, down at where I moved in and out of her.
I slid a hand between us, played with her body, loving the way her back arched off the bed, her hands reached above her head, seeking anchor on the headboard.
Fuck.
With my free hand, I reached up, pinning her wrists and letting myself dissolve into her, mindless and warm, the rhythm of our bodies working together, rolling and wet with sweat. I sucked and bit at her chest, pressing down on her wrists and feeling the familiar build of my orgasm grip me somewhere between my hips, low in my spine. I jerked over her, going faster and hard, relishing the sounds of my hips slapping her thighs.
“Aw f**k, Plum.”
Her eyes opened, burning with understanding and the wild thrill of seeing my pleasure unfolding.
“Almost,” she whispered. “I’m right there.”
I circled her clit faster, three fingers flat and rubbing, her little hoarse cries growing louder and tighter, the telltale flush spreading up her neck. She struggled, pulling her wrists apart from my grip in abandon, and then she went off with a sharp cry, hips bucking wild and body coiling and sucking all around me.
I held on by a f**king thread, moving hard and fast until she went limp and soft, and then let go, rasping, “Coming . . .”
I pulled out, jerking the condom off and tossing it away before gripping my cock, squeezing as I stroked up my length.
Hanna’s eyes flamed with anticipation, and she propped herself on her elbows, staring intently down at where my hand flew over my length between us. Her attention, how much she clearly enjoyed watching . . . it overwhelmed me.
Heat burned up my legs and down my spine and my back arched in a sharp jerk. My orgasm pulsed through me unbelievably strong, tearing a loud groan from my throat as I came. Stuck in my head were images of Hanna, thighs spread under me, skin slick, her eyes open and telling me without words how good it felt. How good I made her feel.
Pulsing, pulsing, pulsing heat . . . and my entire body let go.
My hand slowed, and I opened my eyes, dizzy and breathless.
Her eyes burned, dark gray and fascinated as she ran her fingers over her stomach and stared at my orgasm on her skin.
“Will.” My name came out of her mouth in a purr. No way were we done here.
I propped one hand on the pillow beside her head, staring down at her. “Did you like that?”
She nodded, her bottom lip trapped viciously between her teeth.
“Show me. Touch yourself for me.”
She initially looked uncertain, but then it transformed into determination. I watched as she ran her hand down her torso, reaching briefly for my still-erect cock, her fingers first on me and then herself. She slid two fingers down over her clit, arching into her touch.
I ghosted my hand up her side and over her breast, bending to suck at the tight peak, before telling her, “Make yourself come.”
“Help me,” she said, eyes heavy.
“I’m not there when you do this alone. Show me what you do. Maybe I like to watch, too.”
“I want you to watch while you help.”
She was still so warm from the friction of our sex; flesh soft and so f**king wet. With my fingers inside and hers out, we found a rhythm—she stroked up as I pushed in—and f**k if it wasn’t the most amazing thing to see her so unchained and intense, alternating between staring down at where I’d come on her and where I was growing hard again between us.
It didn’t take long to get here there, and soon she was pushing into my hand, her legs pulled up tight to her sides and lips parted as she grew tense, and then f**king exploded with a scream.
She was beautiful when she went off, skin flushing and ni**les tight; I couldn’t help but taste her skin, nibbling the underside of her breast and slowing my hand in her as she came down.
She took stock of our appearance: covered in sweat and, on her stomach, my orgasm.
“I think we need a shower.”
I laughed. “I think you may be right.”
But we didn’t. We started to get up, but then I would kiss her shoulder, or she would bite mine, and each time we would just slide back onto the mattress, until eventually it was nearly eleven in the morning, and we’d both long since given up on the idea of going in to work.
“Will . . .” She pushed into me, sliding her hands over my shoulders.
I could hear the rustle of the sheets as we moved, the slick sounds of our lovemaking, and nothing else. The rest of the world seemed to have fallen away, been put on mute.
She was quiet, too, staring, fascinated, down at where I moved in and out of her.
I slid a hand between us, played with her body, loving the way her back arched off the bed, her hands reached above her head, seeking anchor on the headboard.
Fuck.
With my free hand, I reached up, pinning her wrists and letting myself dissolve into her, mindless and warm, the rhythm of our bodies working together, rolling and wet with sweat. I sucked and bit at her chest, pressing down on her wrists and feeling the familiar build of my orgasm grip me somewhere between my hips, low in my spine. I jerked over her, going faster and hard, relishing the sounds of my hips slapping her thighs.
“Aw f**k, Plum.”
Her eyes opened, burning with understanding and the wild thrill of seeing my pleasure unfolding.
“Almost,” she whispered. “I’m right there.”
I circled her clit faster, three fingers flat and rubbing, her little hoarse cries growing louder and tighter, the telltale flush spreading up her neck. She struggled, pulling her wrists apart from my grip in abandon, and then she went off with a sharp cry, hips bucking wild and body coiling and sucking all around me.
I held on by a f**king thread, moving hard and fast until she went limp and soft, and then let go, rasping, “Coming . . .”
I pulled out, jerking the condom off and tossing it away before gripping my cock, squeezing as I stroked up my length.
Hanna’s eyes flamed with anticipation, and she propped herself on her elbows, staring intently down at where my hand flew over my length between us. Her attention, how much she clearly enjoyed watching . . . it overwhelmed me.
Heat burned up my legs and down my spine and my back arched in a sharp jerk. My orgasm pulsed through me unbelievably strong, tearing a loud groan from my throat as I came. Stuck in my head were images of Hanna, thighs spread under me, skin slick, her eyes open and telling me without words how good it felt. How good I made her feel.
Pulsing, pulsing, pulsing heat . . . and my entire body let go.
My hand slowed, and I opened my eyes, dizzy and breathless.
Her eyes burned, dark gray and fascinated as she ran her fingers over her stomach and stared at my orgasm on her skin.
“Will.” My name came out of her mouth in a purr. No way were we done here.
I propped one hand on the pillow beside her head, staring down at her. “Did you like that?”
She nodded, her bottom lip trapped viciously between her teeth.
“Show me. Touch yourself for me.”
She initially looked uncertain, but then it transformed into determination. I watched as she ran her hand down her torso, reaching briefly for my still-erect cock, her fingers first on me and then herself. She slid two fingers down over her clit, arching into her touch.
I ghosted my hand up her side and over her breast, bending to suck at the tight peak, before telling her, “Make yourself come.”
“Help me,” she said, eyes heavy.
“I’m not there when you do this alone. Show me what you do. Maybe I like to watch, too.”
“I want you to watch while you help.”
She was still so warm from the friction of our sex; flesh soft and so f**king wet. With my fingers inside and hers out, we found a rhythm—she stroked up as I pushed in—and f**k if it wasn’t the most amazing thing to see her so unchained and intense, alternating between staring down at where I’d come on her and where I was growing hard again between us.
It didn’t take long to get here there, and soon she was pushing into my hand, her legs pulled up tight to her sides and lips parted as she grew tense, and then f**king exploded with a scream.
She was beautiful when she went off, skin flushing and ni**les tight; I couldn’t help but taste her skin, nibbling the underside of her breast and slowing my hand in her as she came down.
She took stock of our appearance: covered in sweat and, on her stomach, my orgasm.
“I think we need a shower.”
I laughed. “I think you may be right.”
But we didn’t. We started to get up, but then I would kiss her shoulder, or she would bite mine, and each time we would just slide back onto the mattress, until eventually it was nearly eleven in the morning, and we’d both long since given up on the idea of going in to work.
