Pull You In (Rivers Brothers Book 3), стр. 43
I didn't expect her to say it, to find the nerve. But I guess I underestimated how desperate she was for release, how much she needed for me to demand she do it.
But then her voice met my ear, small, barely audible, but I heard it.
"Please make me come," she whispered.
There was no staying on my side of the door.
My hand was reaching for the knob before she even finished speaking, pushing the door open, striding across the office, tossing my phone on the desk, grabbing the one from her ear with one hand as I leaned over the back of the chair, my hand slipping down her pants with the other, sliding under her hand, hearing the surprised yelp at the contact as my thumb started circling her clit, hard and fast like I knew she wanted when she was close.
"Rush..." she whimpered, voice catching.
"This is better than the phone, isn't it?" I asked, lips down by her ear, feeling the tremble as it moved through her body.
"Yes," she admitted, turning her head into my neck, taking a deep breath as her signature coconut and pineapple scent met my nostrils.
My fingers slipped down her cleft, pressing inside her. A low, ragged sound escaped me as her walls closed around my fingers, hot, wet, making my cock ache. "You're so tight," I told her as my fingers pressed deep, getting a strangled sound out of her at the invasion. "More?" I asked, flicking my fingers inside her, feeling her hips wiggle in a circle, begging for more.
"Please," she moaned, thighs pressing tighter together, trapping me even if I had a mind to pull away.
My fingers started fucking her. There was nothing slow or sweet or explorative about it. The thrusts were fast and hard, driving her up, making her walls get tighter and tighter as her moans got louder, needier, her lips pressing into my neck.
My fingers curled inside her, raking over her top wall.
"Oh," she cried out, hand slapping onto the desk as the sensations grew, as she got pushed closer to the edge.
"You want to come?" I asked, pressing my thumb into her clit with more pressure.
"Y-yes," she cried, hips writing against my palm.
"Come for me, baby," I demanded, fingers working her G-spot, thumb pressing hard into her clit. "There," I said when her walls tightened so hard that movement became impossible until the tension released, leaving her pulsating around me as she came. My fingers started thrusting, milking the orgasm for all it was worth as her body convulsed hard once as my name cried out from between her lips.
"Fuck," I hissed, damn near coming with her without any touch at all.
"Rush..." she said a moment later, small, shy, overthinking it already.
"My fingers are still inside you," I told her, feeling her walls tighten at the words. "You're not allowed to start overthinking shit yet," I added, getting a snort/laugh hybrid out of her as she tried to take a deep breath, bring some calm back into her chaotic body.
There was a long pause—one where I tried to convince myself to get my fingers out of her pussy, but to no success- before her voice came out, small, unsure.
"That was better than the phone," she admitted.
"Yeah, it was," I agreed.
"Are you ok—"
"Fine," I cut her off, lying through my teeth. I'd never subscribed to the idea of blue balls before in my life, but I was pretty sure mine were going to fucking fall off if I didn't get some relief soon.
"But you didn't," she tried again.
"Eager for my cock, aren't you?" I asked, smiling when I felt her walls do the tightening thing again. Sure, she might have been shy, unsure of herself, but her body was sure of one thing; it really fucking liked some dirty talk. "I'm a little old-fashioned, baby. I like to take a woman out for food or coffee before I shove my cock inside her. No matter how hungry her pussy is for it," I added, doing one last flick against her G-spot, smiling when her thighs tightened, before finally pulling my fingers out of her. "And yes," I said before she could start getting her head all worked up over some false scenario. "That was an invitation.
"A... what?" she asked, her chair swiveling so she could face me as I sat off the side of the desk, waiting for her gaze to rise as I slipped my fingers into my mouth, watching the shock and heat play for dominance on her face, liking the mixture more than I could have known.
"An invitation," I repeated after licking her taste off my fingers.
"To what?" she asked, blinking rapidly for a second, trying to control her reaction to me.
"Dinner. I want to take you to dinner," I told her, reaching outward, refastening her pants, knowing she would likely have a freakout about not realizing she left them undone. "Food. Conversation. Where we both pretend we aren't going to go back to one of our places and break the bed," I added, shooting her a smirk.
"I... you... I mean... you don't have to take me out to dinner."
"Skip the meal, right to bed, huh? Very forward of you," I teased, making a smile spread.
"No, I meant—"
"I know what you meant. And it's ridiculous, so we are just skipping right over it. I wouldn't have asked you to dinner if I didn't want to take you to dinner. So unless you don't want to go to dinner with me..."
"No... I mean, yes. I want to go to dinner with you," she told me, face flushed and I wasn't sure if it was from the orgasm, from excitement, from shyness, or