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Charged (Saints of Denver #2) Page 96
Author: Jay Crownover

“Dessert is meant to be shared. You got your bite first, and now I want mine.” I’d been salivating to have him in my mouth ever since he told me it was the image of me on my knees in front of him that had made him ruin dinner in the first place. Getting when Quaid was the one giving was amazing, but giving when he was the one receiving had its own kind of heady power and was its own special kind of thrill. I liked that I could make him as weak in the knees and as needy as he made me on the regular.

I forcibly tugged the denim down around his hips, taking his underwear with the rough fabric so that I had unfettered access to his long, thick cock. It jutted out at me, ready and willing for whatever I had in mind. I grinned up at Quaid and used the tips of my short nails to rake through the tuft of darker blond hair that his happy trail led to. All of him was so golden and glorious I was sure there was no way I would run out of ways to revel in touching him. Being with this man was always the best decision I could ever make, and the rightness of it all made things between us even better than they already were.

I bent my head down so I could swipe my tongue across his rigid length from root to tip, pausing when I got to the leaking slit and spending extra time savoring his taste and his desire. Quaid grunted and moved one of his hands to the top of my head as I worked my mouth up and down in combination with a circling and gliding fist around the base of his shaft. His other hand slid down across my spine and rested in the center of my back as I leaned over on the couch so that I could swallow as much of his insistent direction as I could.

I could hear his breathing shift as I squeezed him tighter and sucked him harder. I felt his nails drag across my skin and watched as his muscular thighs tightened as I hummed my appreciation of all his masculine glory along the unyielding flesh that was riding my tongue like it was a carnival attraction. I was struggling to breathe as he started to move against my face but I wasn’t complaining. I liked him out of control, crazy with lust, and lost in his own pleasure and taking for himself. As long as I was the one giving him what he wanted, he could be as selfish and as greedy with me as he wanted.

But this was Quaid. This was the man that loved me and had made it his mission to bring goodness back into my life, so right when I was sure he was going to come down my throat with a shudder and a shout, I was suddenly left sucking in lungfuls of air as he wrenched his now glistening and wet cock out of my mouth and with a dirty word groaned loudly and desperately.

Before I could ask him what he was doing, he had his hands under my arms and he was lifting me over the backside of the sofa and turning me around so that my back was to him as he bent me over and told me to put my hands on the edge. The back clasp of my bra was undone and my breasts fell heavy and full into his waiting grasp as he stepped up behind me so that his heart beat right against my spine. He used his feet to spread mine wider and I felt the steely probe of his erection as it slid through my soaked folds as he rocked his hips against my backside.

His lips hit the back of my neck as his talented fingers plucked and rolled my eager nipples. “How ’bout we feed each other dessert?” His warm breath made the tiny hairs that were exposed by my braid dance and had my entire body shivering.

I nodded weakly and put one of my hands over the top of his as he continued to fondle me with equal parts gentleness and roughness. “Sounds like a plan.”

He chuckled as I used his earlier words, but we both stopped being able to make any noises beyond a gasp and a moan as his tip hit my begging opening. I canted my hips a little to help him slide in, and as soon as we had the position right, he slipped all the way in and I felt the stretch and burn of his body overtaking mine through every single part of me.

He pulled back and rocked forward with more force, which had my teeth clamping down on my lip and made me lift up onto the tips of my toes so I could take even more of him inside of me. My channel spasmed around him and I could feel my body pulling on his, asking for more. Begging him to go farther, to push deeper, and because he was an executive he knew what I wanted without my having to ask.

He put a hand on my back and bent me over even more so that my ass was in the air and my hands were on the seat cushions in front of me. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he was in me so deep and thrusting so hard and wild that I could have been bent in half and I wouldn’t have cared, and when he wrapped the end of my braid around his hand and used it to pull my head back and ordered me to look at him while he fucked me, I was pretty sure I was going to explode on the spot. The sounds of our hips slapping together, and the slick sounds of his body thrusting and filling mine, was making me hot and squirmy where I was impaled on his hammer cock. And the sight of his tattooed chest heaving and slick with sweat as he worked us both to the point of incoherent pleasure was so animalistic and sexy that I had to squeeze my eyes shut again to avoid losing it all simply from watching what he was doing. I loved all of Quaid and all the different types of men that were housed inside his gorgeous body, but this version of him was undoubtedly my favorite. When he fucked me raw and untamed, when he owned me, the sensations he brought to life in me—that was when he was the most authentic and the most honest. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. He also knew what I wanted and knew that he was the only man that was capable of giving it to me. It made sex with him a memorable and an exciting experience, every single time.

The hand that wasn’t wrapped in my hair rubbed across my hip, skated over the lifted curve of my ass, and expertly dipped and played in that darkened valley I had yet to let him explore. Quaid liked to play and liked to explore every single inch of me but I wasn’t quite at his level yet and he never pushed me past what I was comfortable with. That didn’t mean that he didn’t tempt and tease with erotic and dangerous touches that hinted at the pleasure and surprise that was waiting for me when I relented and put myself in his very skilled hands. His palm slipped down the front of me where I was leaning against the back of the couch. I knew where he was headed so I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly at the first brush of his fingers across my clit. Everything swirled and spiraled into a vortex of sex and pleasure as my orgasm hit with the force of a tidal wave and I couldn’t stop the shriek that tumbled across my lips. I fisted my hands on the couch cushions and let my head fall forward as he finally released my hair and he shifted his hands to my hips as he pounded into me jerkily, frantic in search of his own release.

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Jay Crownover's Novels
» Charged (Saints of Denver #2)
» Built (Saints of Denver #1)
» Leveled (Saints of Denver #0.5)
» Honor (The Breaking Point #1)
» Better When He's Brave (Welcome to the Point #3)
» Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)
» Rule (Marked Men #1)
» Asa (Marked Men #6)
» Jet (Marked Men #2)