I am crying, flooded with emotions that cannot fit within my body. They explode outside of me—and I don’t care to wipe them away. I just float through this bliss and let Loren Hale take me.
His fingers dip beneath my stretchy sweat shorts, and he tugs at the elastic, lowering them to my calves and burning my core with the slow, slow movement. “Back then, I asked you to be my girlfriend.”
My heart hammers in my ears. To think of a time where we weren’t even together, when I was no one’s girlfriend—it’s an ancient, dark era.
“And then I f**ked you,” he states matter-of-factly.
He spreads my legs open and stands at the foot of the bed. Then he pulls me so my bottom is half on the mattress, half-off, and his semi-hard cock, through his jeans, puts pressure on a pulsing place of mine. My legs in his possession. I wonder if he can feel how wet I am—or if he can feel my heat drumming against him, craving him.
“I…I remember,” I stammer, losing control of my vocabulary.
He pauses for a brief second, his eyes traversing across my body in hot waves. “This is going to be a million times better than that.”
“Whaa…” I can’t even finish my statement. The declaration arches my back, and I try to grind against him. Closer. But he has my legs hostage, my cheeks salty and tear-streaked. I am a mess, and the way Lo is staring at me, I might actually be a sexy mess too.
He suddenly drops to his knees. Oh my God. And then he lifts my legs over his shoulders. Yesyesyes.
I have no strength to prop my body, but I tilt my head at the right angle, gaining a visual. His eyes lock to mine as he places a tender kiss on the inside of my thigh. My mouth is permanently ajar, and a breathy sound emerges.
“Lo,” I cry.
The feather light kisses continue, nearing the aching spot. He has to be only an inch away when he draws back. No!
He takes his sweet time lowering my panties to my ankles, shifting my legs again, and then he fishes them off my feet and tosses them aside. He hikes my legs back over his shoulders, and the image makes me squirm. I need him.
I want him.
Right inside.
“Lo.”
“I’m going to make you come,” he says with that Loren Hale sharp tone, deathly and alluring, “so slowly.” Yes. I cry in want, so ready, and his lips skim my leg, his breath warm and his teasing toxic. In the best possible way.
His hands rub against the soft flesh of my thighs. I reach out, placing my palms on top of them, hoping to guide them between my legs, but instead, they rise up to my ribs. Underneath my cotton shirt, up to my br**sts.
Oh my God. He squeezes, his thumbs flicking my tender ni**les. “I need you,” I tell him, tears creasing my eyes again. Only these are from pleasure that he stretches out in infinite frequencies.
Kiss me right there. But he waits longer. He says, “I have a present for you.”
Orgasms, I think. The gift is the best orgasm of my life. “I’ve been good,” I remind him. In my recent hiccups, I came back strong and never drowned in the compulsive deep end of sex.
His smile pulls his lips. “You’ve been great.”
My mind dizzies. “Great is better than good.” The spot clenches, my head tilting back. I’m going to come before he even gives me anything. “Lo!” I grip his forearms for support, my feet curving and my legs squirming on his shoulders.
He clutches my waist now, holding me steady. “Relax for me, Lil,” he says in a sweetly edged voice. “No clenching.”
I want to see how hard he is. I want him inside of me. Nothing else computes in my brain.
His head dips out of sight, and I feel his tongue, my legs twitching in response. He tightens his hold on one of them, still firmly in his care.
Oxygen whooshes from my lungs as he sucks and licks, caressing the most sensitive of nerves with his mouth. My eyes roll back, and no sound leaves as I come. Higher than high.
I don’t even sense my body descending; I stay suspended in this cl**ax. More. The response is normal for me.
I always want more.
And Lo knows this silent plea.
He gives me oral almost every day, but I recognize the difference the moment something hard presses against my other entrance. Oh my God. Please, yes.
My eyes burn with tears. “Lo,” I cry. Pleasepleaseplease let this be true and not in my mind. I constrict in excitement and impulse, and then I wince at the pressure. Oh God.
His lips leave me, and I groan into the comforter.
“Relax, love,” he reminds me.
We’ve had anal sex enough that I should know not to tighten so much, but my body responded on its own. Lo massages my thigh again, stirring my arousal. My mind is a mixer right now, blended with lust and longings.
Our doctor advised against anal sex while I’m pregnant, a restriction that’s left me more than bummed. Which is why I ask, “Are you using your fingers?”
“No,” he says. And his eyes carry the answer.
My eyes widen, my jaw unhinging. Sex toys. Oh my God. I tingle all over, imagining something long and hard inside of me, even though it’s most likely just a small plug. “Are we allowed?” I whisper.
“I asked your Ob/Gyn. She said yes.”
“Don’t move,” I blurt out. “Or I mean, move but…don’t take it out, okay?” Fear surfaces—fear of this ending too soon.
“Shhh, Lil,” he says. “Breathe slowly.”
I can feel my ribcage jutting out with these sporadic inhales. I lie back more and shut my eyes. He’s going to fill me both places, at the same time. It’s a craving that I’ve wanted satiated for a while.
I try to relax my muscles, and his kisses begin again, soft and sweet, building up my need. I throb for a harder, deeper entry. And then he pushes on the toy, the pressure and sensations blind me. Yes. “Lo,” I plead.
He rises to his feet, and seconds pass as he steps out of his jeans and black boxer-briefs. He’s harder than I even pictured, erect and as wanting as me. He pauses while I stare fixatedly at his long cock. Inside now, I mentally command. Inside now.
“Lil,” he chokes, his arousal sweeping over his features.
I am full behind. I can’t even imagine being full in the front too. I just haven’t had it in so so long. Years. “Harder,” I murmur. He hasn’t even pushed into me yet.
He’s too far away to hold. He’s standing with my legs wrapped around his waist, my bottom off the mattress, while I’m lying. So I clutch the comforter in one hand and my breast with the other.
“Harder,” I plead, his c**k right there. I’m too exhausted from cl**axing once already to thrust forward into him. He has most of the control, and that thought bridges me to a hotter, sweltering place. “Lo.”
And then he pounds right into me, filling me hard. I am a goner. My body quakes, and he thrusts in melodic, deep rhythms that bring me to a new planet. A high-pitched gasp escapes my lips every time he slams in.
He rests one knee on the edge of the bed, and then another, climbing onto it and pulling my body up towards the pillow. His forearm sets beside my head, and he kisses the outside of my lips. Then he says, “Open.”
I understand his request. I open my eyes, and he stares right into me as he thrusts. I can’t corral the noises I make. I’m happy he’s closer, nearer, so I can clutch onto his back and hold him to me.
I clench so hard that he only can go in and not out. It’s a long-lasting euphoria. My head lolls and my eyes flutter as the high hits me. My spine arches, toes curling. A shiver runs through the length of my legs and all the blissfulness in the world rains down on me.