Page 119 of Bitter’s Sweet

For a second, neither one of us moves. My body adjusts around the thick fullness of him until I can feel every twitch of his cock inside me.

Bitter’s jaw is locked so tight I almost laugh.

“You okay?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Make jokes while your pussy’s squeezing my cock like that.”

Heat flashes through me. “Well, now I have to.”

“Sweet.”

I squeeze deliberately.

His eyes close, and a strangled curse comes out of him.

I smile. “Oh, I like that.”

“You are playing a dangerous fucking game.”

“Maybe.”

He pulls almost all the way out, then drives back into me.

My smile vanishes. “Oh.”

“Still funny?”

I grip his shoulders. “Shut up.”

He does it again, harder, and my head falls back.

“There she is.”

His mouth finds my throat while his hips settle into a rhythm, slow enough at first that every stroke drags over nerves still raw from his mouth. I wrap my legs tighter around him.

He groans. “Fuck, Sweet. You feel too fucking good.”

My fingers slide into his hair as he thrusts deeper.

The bed squeaks.

I laugh breathlessly.

“Not one fucking word.”

“You need a better bed.”

“I need you to quit talking while I’m trying to fuck you.”

“You usually like my mouth.”

“I love your mouth.”

The words leave him before either of us is ready.