Page 83 of Gold Rush

She clenches around my cock when I speak, and that reaction makes me feel like a god.

“Good,” she pants. “Really, really good. You’re so deep. There’s so much … I can feel you everywhere. It’s more than I can … but I want more.”

“You can take the rest,” I tell her. “You did last night.”

Her eyes fly open, glancing down. “You’re not all the way in?”

“Nope.” I pop the P, leaning back in the chair. “Keep trying.”

“I’m telling you, there’s no more space.”

My right hand slides away from her hip, left and lower, thumbing her clit. “Try harder, overachiever.”

Rory shoots me an unimpressed look. But her pussy flutters, a reaction she can’t hide from me. I watch her forehead furrow with concentration, her breathing faster as she lets me deeper.

“That’s my girl. Almost there.”

I start to work on the buttons of her blouse, letting it slip off her shoulders and down to the floor. Her bra is pale pink lace. I flick the clasp open, tossing that away too.

I’m a little—a lot—obsessed with her boobs. There’s some remnant of the teenage boy who noticed them appear left in me. The adolescent who realized that Rory Kensington was starting to look as adult as she acted. The college student who wondered what her curves looked like beneath the barrier of an elegant dress.

I don’t recall ever thinking about licking whipped cream off them. Even if I had, that fantasy would never have lived up to the reality of what’s happening now.

Rory starts moaning once my mouth begins sucking and licking. Her cunt tightens as I slide the final inches inside of her.

“You feel so good.” Her cheeks are flushed, eyes dazed.

I’ve never had sex in this position before. My default is the opposite of Rory’s preference—being behind. It allows me more control. I’ve never had an issue making a woman come that way. I’m certain I could make Rory come that way, based on how responsive she’s been so far.

It’s only occurring to me now that this positioning is a lot more personal. Last night was darker, and we were in a bed. This is … deliberate. I’m not uncomfortable, but I’m very aware of how close our faces are. That I can literally see the fluttering of her pulse beneath her jaw and that I could count the few freckles sprinkled on her shoulders. It’s a different definition of intimacy, one that hasn’t existed with any other girl I’ve dated before. Dated for real, rather.

I smile at Rory, reaching up to pull the elastic from her hair. I toss it on the table, watching blonde strands fall.

“This is the part where you ride my cock, Florence.”

She still doesn’t move. Just sits with me inside of her. “Now who’s impolite? You’ll get what I give you, Parks.”

Fuck, I could come without her moving.

Talking, as in full sentences adding up to an entire conversation, is also unfamiliar during sex. And I would have guessed that it would be a mood killer. That sounds were way sexier than any sort of dialogue.

I was wrong.

26

“J’adore Canada!” Fran, one of Lili’s friends, flings both arms out, nearly hitting Chloe, another friend who is attending Lili’s bachelorette party this weekend.

“Watch it, Fran,” Chloe says, cradling her baby bump protectively before taking a sip of club soda.

Which Collins has also been drinking all night, I’ve noticed.

Lili’s getting married next month, Kit’s going to have two kids, and what am I, the third oldest, doing? Pretending to date Flynn Parks and actually fucking Flynn Parks every chance I get. I’ve had sex with him more times than with all my previous partners combined. Flynn is insatiable, and around him, I am too.

It’s taken until now, in another country, for me to realize I’ve made a miscalculation, encouraging sex on every available surface of my apartment. I thought with my hormones instead of my head, and it took physical separation for me to approach thinking logically again.

I’m a relationship girl. With a couple of exceptions, I’ve only slept with guys I was dating. I get attached, which I thought would be impossible with Flynn.

My reaction to him surprising me in the Hamptons should have been my first clue. But, no, I had to make the first move, after our fake sex in the bathroom, and take off my shirt.