Page 115 of Buckin' Around

Her whimpers turn to a cry as I work her clit and wave after wave of her orgasm tightens around my fingers. Her grip is in the back of my hair, turning painful.

My forehead drops to hers as she starts whispering my name in broken syllables. Fuck me, if there was even an ounce left of the single player I was before, she just blew him into oblivion.

I let her catch her breath for a heartbeat before I scoop her up. I have plans for my little woman, and none of them include goddamn missionary.

A handful of long, impatient strides and we’re in the kitchen. The breeze sets my sweaty skin tingling as I deposit Riles onto the kitchen counter.

“Spencer,” she chastises.

“I want you to watch how well you take me, baby. We can’t do that in the dark bedroom. Besides, you look much better spread on the counter like a fucking meal for me.”

I make a point of spreading her thighs and stepping between them.

I pump my cock before running the aching tip through her wet center.

Her eyes are stuck on my face, her grip white on the edges of the countertop.

“Look, Riles. Look at what you do to me. Look how well you take every single damn inch of me.”

I press the tip to her entrance.

Her gaze snaps back to my face, her eyes a little wider, her breathing rapid and shallow.

I grip her chin, angling it down as I growl, “Look.”

Slowly, I sink into her tight-as-fuck slick heat.

Her mouth gapes as she huffs a desperate little noise I wish I could have captured with my mouth. But her seeing how well her sweet pussy takes my cock is far more important right now.

I’m motionless for a heartbeat, watching her body respond to mine. She’s so fucking tense.

“Breathe, baby. Come on.”

I nudge her thighs wider still. Her pussy glistens in the pale moonlight sporadically filtering through the fast-moving storm clouds.

Once she seems settled, I push in another inch.

“Oh, fuck, Spence,” she whines.

“Tell me to stop, Riles, and I will.”

“No, no, don’t you dare.” Her gaze turns heated.

That’s my girl.

My good fucking girl.

“I want to touch,” she whispers.

I lean in, plucking her nipples briefly before guiding her hand to where we are joined. Fine fingers wander over the very place her body stretches to take in mine.

God, the sight is addictive.

This is how we are going to spend every goddamn night from this one on.

Her hand returns to the counter’s edge, and she breathes, “Give me all of you, please.”

Desperation twists my face. My ability to argue with her at this point is non-existent.