Page 110 of Hard to Get

“I’m gonna make you come,” I murmur. “Is that okay?”

She makes a choked noise and gives a couple of quick nods. I bend down to kiss her stomach. The scent of her arousal makes me dizzy. Using my fingers to part her, I lick her all over: back entrance to her clit, all over her soft folds. I lift my head to study her, all shiny and pink and wet. “So pretty.”

I lick her again, and again, swallowing the taste of her, my nose pressed to her flesh, my face getting wet. She whimpers and whines and lifts her pussy to my mouth. I kiss her labia, opening my mouth on her flesh, and when she shudders, I try out sucking, so gently. One of her hands lands on my head and delves into my hair. I smile and keep kissing and sucking, opening my mouth wider on her, moving closer to her clit.

I lift my head and slide two fingers into her. “God, I love how you taste.” I curl my fingers toward her belly button and search out the area that makes her tremble. “There.” I suck the hood of her clit into my mouth and tug, and she cries out.

Her soft noises fall faster and louder as I rub inside her with my fingertips and suck on her hood. And then I suck her whole clit into my mouth.

“Oh God!” Both hands grip my hair. “Yes, that’s so hot. Oh God.”

And then she comes, thighs tightening, abs contracting, pulsing around my fingers. It’s gorgeous. She’s gorgeous.

Need pulses low in my belly, my cock swollen and dripping.

I finish with a few last soft licks, then kiss my way up her abdomen to between her tits. I slap a hand around on the bed to find that small bottle, then open it and hold it above her chest to drizzle the thick lube there.

She’s panting, eyelids heavy but watching what I’m doing.

I squeeze lube onto my stiff cock, too, and spread it all over with my hand. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

“This is still okay?” I ask in a low tone, straddling her, my thighs against her ribs.

“Yes.” The word is a moan.

Slowly, I slide my cock over her skin. “I’m gonna come in about two seconds, this is so fucking hot.”

She lifts her hands to her tits and presses them together, tighter around my shaft.

“Oh fuck, yeah.” I fuck between those gorgeous globes. We both watch the head poke out from between her breasts and it’s fucking erotic as hell. Sensation burns and twists through my body, pressure building at the base of my spine. My balls grow tighter and tingles scurry up the backs of my thighs.

“Oh yeah,” I grit out. A fireball explodes in my belly, burning through me, my cock, my balls, and I spurt onto her chest with a shout. I fist my dick and jack myself, spilling more over her throat, her collarbone, her tits in what feel like never-ending gushes.

When it’s finally done, I give myself a few more slow strokes, squeezing the head. I’m desperately trying to get air into my lungs so I don’t pass out. Then I collapse onto the bed next to her. “Holy shit.”

“Mmmm. That was hot.”

We lay there for several drawn-out minutes. Gradually, I regain brain function and recall the wet mess on her. I roll out of bed and get a warm washcloth from her bathroom. With gentle swipes, I clean her up then dry her off and help her under the covers. Her duvet is particularly puffy, the cover crisp and scented like her.

When I’ve cleaned myself up, too, I slide into bed with her and wrap my arms around her, her sweet ass pressed to my lap.

“My mom’s kind of… unhinged,” she murmurs.

I smile against her hair. “Maybe a bit.”

“When she and Dad split up, she fell apart. I couldn’t believe it when she started dating right away. Then I thought maybe it was because of money. She works at Shoppers Drug Mart, in the beauty department, but that doesn’t pay a lot and she basically had to start over when Dad left. Pay rent for a tiny little house. Try to support us.”

“Shit,” I mutter, tightening my arms around her.

“That was another reason why I started selling my stats analysis to hockey teams. I thought if I helped with money, she wouldn’t need to keep dating losers.”

My breath tightens in my chest. Fuck.

“But I couldn’t help that much, and mostly, she really feels like she needs a man in her life.” She pauses. “When I started going to Gam-Anon—that’s like Al Anon, for families of gambling addicts; I went when I was a teenager and trying to deal with it all—I realized Mom was using relationships to make up for something missing in her life. Missing in her, I guess. Self-esteem. She’d rather be with someone incompatible than be alone.”

“Like… how incompatible?” I better not hear anything about abuse or I’ll be flipping the fuck out.

“Just like… losers. The first man she married after the divorce was Brian. He was a chiropractor. Also kind of a kook. But he had money.”