Knocked Up on Valentine's Day
Page 147
We passed through the open doorway to his bedroom. As we walked, his fingers pulled my jacket from my shoulders. He yanked it off of me and let it fall to the ground. Then he caught the hem of my shirt, and our lips parted for the first time when he pulled it over my head. Then, breathlessly, we came back together like magnets.
He undid my jeans. I didn’t stop him. I worked to shimmy them down over my hips as Steven unclasped my bra.
I realized how naked I was when his hands grazed my breasts, and his thumbs flicked over my nipples. I giggled more out of excitement than anything else. He smiled into our kiss. His hands continued to caress my breasts, gliding over my skin and teasing me with the lightest touch.
Steven’s arm wrapped around my lower back. Ever so slowly, he lowered me to his bed, his sheets soft against my bare back. I lay below him, staring up at him as he leaned over me, bracing himself with a hand planted firmly on each side of me. His face was dark in shadow, but his eyes glinted from the porch light streaming through his bedroom window.
He began kissing me again. His lips left my mouth to trail kisses down my neck, over my collarbone, and over the line in the middle of my stomach. When he reached my hips, he stopped. He snapped my thong playfully, and it stung, sending a thrill through me.
Then he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. His hands fell between my thighs, and he pushed my legs apart. He pulled my panties to the side. I watched him, hungry, desperate, as he drew closer to me.
His tongue kissed my clit. My eyes closed of their own volition. My fingers curled in his sheets, and a breathless sigh escaped me. His tongue slid up and down over the length of my pussy, tasting me, teasing me, until I thought I was going to come undone.
I was so close to losing control. He sensed it, and he ceased the swirling of his tongue. He stood, looking down at me like he owned me as he stripped out of his sweatpants.
I reveled in his nakedness. He was perfection, as I already knew he was, but seeing him this time was different. I knew I was about to have him. I knew I was about to feel him inside me.
“Please,” I breathed, begging him to hurry. I couldn’t wait any longer. This emptiness inside me was begging to be filled.
He stroked his cock and stepped closer to me. I felt the top of his thighs against the bottom of mine; firm and warm. The tip of his hardness pressed up against me, and he moved his cock up and down, stroking my wetness, making me wait.
“Please,” I begged again, willing him to enter me.
When he did, everything around me vanished. I was nothing but the sex. He slid deep inside me, pushing me open and demanding I give all of myself to him. Each slow thrust stretched me further until a cry escaped my lips.
He pressed his thumb to my clit. A quiver of excitement rushed through me. I could hear the blood hammering in my ears.
Then, he was spreading my legs farther apart. I let him use me like a gymnast, pushing my legs back and apart, leaning into me so that he could grind his cock against my G-spot. I gripped his forearms, whimpered with delight, and then, to my surprise and delight, became a shaking mass of pleasure as my orgasm ripped me open.
He didn’t slow. His thrusts became more powerful, more primal, and as my orgasm ended, I felt another one mounting. It built and built until I could feel the walls of my pussy closing around him. He seemed to feel it too.
A sound in the back of his throat was enough to make me come again. His hands gripped my hips, and he pushed his weight upon me, holding me in place so that each time he buried himself in me, I couldn’t move. I gasped as he filled me with his hot, silky cum.
Then he pulled out of me and collapsed on the bed beside me. We both lay on our backs with our eyes closed sucking in great gulps of air. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on how wonderful I felt. I had never had an orgasm like that before.
I knew that soon I would want more.
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Copyright © 2018 Amy Brent – All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. While, as in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on life experiences and conclusions drawn from research, all names, characters, places and specific instances are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. No actual reference to any real person, living or dead, is intended or inferred.