Page 72 of Fifth Avenue Flirt

“I want you, Ben.”

Our eyes lock, and I don’t know why, but it feels so intense, like a thousand confessions are passing between us, back and forth.

This is more than just a bet.

This is more than just sex.

This is something bigger.

More.

Everything.

Slowly, I push into her, taking my time, trying to zone out of how perfect she is, how it feels to have her surrounding me, how her mouth opens wider, the deeper I get.

As I reach the end of her, her eyes shut, like she’s achieved perfect bliss.

“Deep enough.”

“Always,” she says, as she trails her fingers over my shoulders.

A groan rips out of me and I lean over her, our bodies pushed together, me deep inside her. I start to move, trying to start a rhythm, but she feels so perfect that I’m not sure I’m going to be able to fuck her for long.

“Oh god,” she gasps. “I think—” Her body starts to tremble under me. It’s quick. But that’s what I do to her. That’s what we do to each other. It’s like our souls understand each other and direct our bodies to do the exact thing that we need at exactly the right time.

I push into her over and over and she cries out as her body convulses under me.

“Ben!” she cries out.

My name on her lips as she comes makes me feel like a fucking god. I get to fuck this woman, get to make her come, get to understand how she works and undo her.

Me.

How did I get so lucky?

I slow my pace as she drifts down from her orgasm and she opens her eyes. She gasps as I push into her again.

“Ben,” she says, reaching for me and pushing her fingers through my hair. It’s such an intimate gesture.

I push into her again, and she groans again.

“How do you do that?” She wraps her legs around me and the feel of her shoes against my skin sets something off inside me.

“Do what?” I ask. “Make you come?”

I’m so close now. She’s so wet and tight and she feels so good. I dip down and capture her nipple in my mouth, grazing my bottom teeth against the nub. She cries out and clenches all around me, and I go dizzy with the burst of pleasure. I slam into her, picking up my pace, fucking and fucking because there’s nothing else I want to do, no place else I’d rather be than here with Avril.

I reach down under her arse and hold her in place so I can push deeper and deeper and deeper until I explode. She’s there with me, shuddering around my cock, milking every last drip of come from me like that’s the last time she’ll ever get fucked like this.

She’s wrong.

I step away, deal with the condom, and then get back to work. She’s boneless and floppy after two orgasms, but I’m not done. I maneuver us so I’m sitting behind her and she’s in my arms, her back to my front. I hook my legs under hers and pull her thighs open. I’m hard against her back. But now I want to make her come again. I want her to know that I own her body. I slip my fingers through her folds, circling her juicy clit.

“You’re so wet.”

“You can make me come so easily.”

“Because I understand your body.”