Page 34 of Mister Gregory
"Mila, baby, fuck."
She's so hot. So tight. So fucking wet. I want to pound into her until the tension snaps, and I spill into her. She whimpers, and I know I have to take it easy on her this time. My mouth finds hers as my hands go to her ass, lifting her up and sliding her slowly down my cock.
"Having my cock in your mouth was heaven for you, wasn't it?" I ask, biting her lip.
"Roman." She practically sobs my name, and I know I'm right. I know that's what has her spinning out of control. Mila's had a few fantasies of her own over the last four years.
"How long, Mila?" I grip her harder, thrust a little deeper. My cock drags across her G-spot with each thrust. "How long have you wanted my cock in your mouth?"
"Since the day I met you," she says, practically yelling the words at me. She tips her head back and moans loudly when I reward her honesty with another deep thrust. "I saw you standing in our dorm, looking at me like you did, and I wanted it."
"How did I look at you, baby?"
"Like–" She moans loudly, her hands slipping and sliding across my shoulders before finding purchase. "Like you wanted to eat me right then and there."
Jesus.
How the fuck did she see through me so easily? Since day fucking one, she's known what I wanted. I fought hard to keep that shit under wraps, but she knew.
"I did want to eat you, Mila." My mouth is at her ear again, making sure she hears every word I say. My balls draw up tight, and I know I'm not going to last much longer. I lift her up and down my length, breathing heavily. "I jerked off in the bathroom before dinner that night, thinking about those sexy legs wrapped around my head while you rode my face."
I never stood a chance that day. From the minute she smiled at me, calling me Mr. Gregory in that sweet fucking voice, it was all over.
"Come for me, baby."
She comes as soon as I demand it of her, her muscles clamping down on my cock so tightly, I can't fucking breathe. I slam her down on me, past being gentle with her as my orgasm crashes into me like a freight train. It rips me apart, hitting so hard it hurts. I give her everything, spilling into her until there's nothing left.
"Roman, Roman," she chants, clawing at me as she rides out her own orgasm.
I'm pretty certain she's going to be the death of me. That doesn't bother me as much as it probably should.
Her orgasm begins to recede, and she slumps against me, spent. My heart pounds against my ribcage as I hold her to my chest. Somehow, I manage to get the water turned off and get us both out of the shower and dried off. She clings to me the whole time, refusing to let me put her down. As soon as we're dry enough, I say fuck it, drop the towel, carry her into the bedroom, and deposit her in the bed.
She sighs softly, relaxing into the bed when I follow her down. I pull her up against me and jerk the covers up over us. Thunder rumbles outside as the storm hits the coast.
I'm out in a matter of minutes, Mila wrapped around me like a blanket.
"You really don't have to take me anywhere," she says hours later, eyeing me from the passenger seat of my truck. She looks beautiful, with her hair tumbling down her back. The early evening sun catches in the blonde strands, making them shine. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are brighter than they were when I got here, but I have no clue if that's because she did something to them or if it's the result of repeated sexual gratification. The dress she's wearing hugs her curves, doing things to her ass that should be illegal before ending mid-thigh. The emerald green color matches her eyes.
I wanted to bend her over the couch as soon as she came downstairs in it. Instead, I dragged her to the truck, determined to get her out of the house to avoid temptation.
"You nervous?" I ask, glancing over to find her nibbling on her bottom lip.
"No. Yes." She frowns, her brow wrinkling. "I don't know."
That makes two of us. I haven't been on a date in so long I can't even remember when it last happened. I have no fucking clue what I'm doing.
"It's just dinner," I say, though I don't know if I'm reminding her or myself.
"Right." She runs her hands down her dress, smoothing invisible wrinkles.
"You look beautiful, baby." I shift my gaze from her to the road, pulling to a stop as the light turns yellow ahead. When I turn back to her, her head is down, a blush spread across her cheeks.
"Thanks," she says, lifting her head. Her gaze roves over me, taking in my jeans and white button-down before lingering for a split second on my dick. "You look pretty good yourself."
"You mean me or my dick?" I smirk at her before turning back to the road. The light changes to green, and I pull off.
A gray sports car flies past us, swooping into the lane ahead of me and turning on the blinker. I roll to a stop behind it, not bothering to switch lanes to go around. The restaurant isn't far ahead, and the storm washed all kinds of debris into the roadway. Mud and twigs are spread all across the right lane.