The Private Serials Box Set(28)

I felt his head shake against me. "No. Never met the right person."

"Never even came close?" I pried.

"I had a few long-term relationships, and one really serious girlfriend,  but none of them ever made me feel like I needed to cement our  relationship, you know? I never felt like I couldn't live without them."  I felt his tongue dart out and flip against my earlobe; my body  shuddered in response.

"Oh," I managed. "That's too bad," I said, only because I was looking for words to fill the silence.

"Actually," he said as he brought his lips to the skin just below my  ear. "It's fucking fantastic. If I'd married any of them, I wouldn't be  here with a sexy-as-sin woman between my legs."

And just like that my breath was gone from my body. My veins zipped with  electricity, and I was wet. His hands slowly slid across my chest and  grazed over my nipples, which were taut points, stretching to meet his  touch, aching to feel his hands on them. As he palmed my breasts, my  hands fell to his thighs and I gripped him tightly, arching my back and  pressing further into his hands.

I moaned and my eyes closed as his fingers teased me through my nightgown and bra.

"This might end up being my favorite piece of clothing you own," he said softly.

"Preston," I begged, writhing against him. He'd ignited something hot  and electric in me and it was burning me from the inside out. "Please … "

Without warning, his ankles hooked around each of my legs, splaying them  open, spreading me wide on his couch. Then his hands grabbed my wrists  and pulled them up to wrap around the back of his neck.

"Lace your fingers together behind my neck, Lena."

I did as he asked me to, my chest moving up and down with my labored breaths.

"Now, don't move your hands from my neck. If you do, I'll find a way to  bind you, baby, and I'd rather spend my time pleasing you than punishing  you." His ankles moved even farther apart, spreading me even wider. His  hands brushed down my body, starting at my wrists, smoothing down my  arms and grazing over my breasts. Then he pressed the palms of his hands  on my sides and spread them over my hips, squeezing me gently, his  fingers digging into my skin.

He gripped my nightgown and pulled it up, urging me to lift my hips so  he could get it all the way up and over my breasts. He didn't try to  pull it over my head, but he did use it to cover my eyes, shrouding me  in darkness. I shivered when I pictured what I must have looked like:  splayed out on his couch, head covered, legs spread, breaths coming  quickly.

I couldn't see anything, so my eyes closed and I tried to listen for cues as to what he would do next.

I felt his touch start right between my breasts. One hand slid down the  center of my body, in the valley between my breasts and continued down  to my bellybutton. My breath hitched as he played with the hem of my  panties, his finger just ducking under the elastic and tickling the skin  there.

"Do you want me to touch you, sweetheart?"

"Yes," I panted immediately, wanting his hands on me, in me, desperately.

His hand moved lower into my panties, just over the neat patch of hair  on my mound. "Here?" he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I  shook my head back and forth quickly. He moved his hand down just a  little more, still not close enough and I groaned in frustration.  "Here?"

"No."

"Where, love?"

My heart stopped at his words. Stopped, then soared, and then thundered again. "Lower," I moaned.

"Show me," he whispered against my neck.

I bent at the waist, raising my hips up to meet his hand, guiding his  finger to the right place  –  the place that ached for him. My hands  behind his neck gave me the leverage I needed to move in just the right  way, so that his finger slid right over my cleft and I sighed in relief.  "There," I said, sounding terribly turned on and needy.

"Ah, I see," he said as he sunk his finger into me. I cried out, the  invasion so beautiful and intense. His one finger came out of me and  slid up to circle my clit and I came off the couch, back arching,  fingers digging into the back of his neck. "Fuck, Lena. You're on fire."

"Help me," I cried, needing more from him.

"Always."

With that, he pressed two fingers back into me, pumping in and out,  aggressively finding a rhythm that had me panting, squirming, and  moaning, all while silently begging him to both make me come and never  stop touching me all at the same time.

While his one hand plunged fingers in and out of me, his other hand  freed a breast from my bra and began pulling and tugging on my nipple.  The two sensations combined sent me into a dizzying tailspin, and I was  lost in it all.

His thumb found my clit and he made slow, lazy circles around it, never  touching it, just teasing it. My hips, again, searched for the friction  my body so fiercely desired, grinding up against his hand, hoping to  catch the right angle to send me over the edge. I felt him chuckle,  which only made me more determined, throwing more vigor into my efforts.

Without any warning, he pulled out of me and took his hand from my  breast, leaving me cold and frustrated. I groaned my displeasure, but  still couldn't see anything to determine what was going on.

His hands came to mine and pull them over his head. My nightgown came up  over my head and he pulled it up my arms and off my body. I left my  eyes closed, not wanting to break the spell between us. I wanted him to  be in control, wanted him to take charge. I wanted to trust him and give  him everything. His ankles released my legs and he scooted away from  me, leaving me for just a moment sitting on his couch with my hands in  the air, feeling a little like an idiot.

When he came back to me, he pressed his hand against the skin between my shoulder blades and gently pushed me forward.

"On your knees, Lena," he rasped at me. My heart thundered in my chest  as I maneuvered myself to my knees. My legs trembled with anticipation  and apprehension, and before I knew what was happening his hands were on  my hips, pulling me backward. Then his other hand was on my shoulder,  pushing me down until my hands found the couch on either side of his  thighs. I felt his fingers pull my panties to the side and then I felt  his warm tongue glide over my opening.

I gasped, unable to keep my surprise quiet, but soon started mewling as  his tongue found every spot inside me that begged for his attention. He  kissed my pussy as if he'd waited to do it his whole life, ate me as if  he'd been starved, and I cried out every time his tongue flicked my  clit. I moaned and mewled as I rocked up against his mouth, wanting  nothing more than to find that high he'd brought me to before. I felt  precariously close to the edge and silently begged him to push me over,  to find that spot that I knew would send me flying.

On one particularly sensitive pass of his tongue, I cried out and opened  my eyes, unable to keep them closed through the jolt of pleasure, and I  found myself looking directly at his erection tenting his jeans.  Without thinking, I pulled open the button and undid the zipper,  reaching into his briefs and pulling out his hot and hard cock.         

     



 

Even though I still found myself on the edge of what would surely be a  glorious orgasm, I couldn't resist the urge to put him in my mouth. I  leaned down and slowly licked the head of his cock, relishing in the  purely masculine smell of him and the salty taste of the pre-cum that  waited for me. I placed the tip in my mouth and then took him all in,  sucking him back as far as I could. I felt his leg tense underneath my  hand and I felt him groan against my clit, the vibration of his voice  adding another sexy dimension to our tryst.

I slid my mouth up and down, trying as much as I could to take him  deeply and then swirl my tongue around his head, listening to him moan  and using that to gauge what he liked most.

We devoured each other, neither one of us stopping for anything except  staggered breaths and guttural moans. He found one particular rhythm,  fingers crooked against the front wall of my sex, tongue flicking  quickly over my clit, and the combination sent me rocketing into an  intense and shattering orgasm. I came hard and fast, still recovering  from the electric waves coursing through my body when I felt him slide  out from under me, kneel behind me, and thrust inside.

I gasped, still sensitive from the orgasm I hadn't fully recovered from,  and he cursed, all manner of four-letter words falling from his mouth.

"Fuck me, Lena. Shit. I love your pussy. Damn." Each word toppled from his mouth, was grunted out with gasping breaths.

I couldn't respond with more than a groan, still reeling from my climax,  but I reached back to squeeze his thigh, hoping that relayed my  mirrored appreciation. This wasn't flowery. It wasn't the sweet  lovemaking we'd already had; this was rough, primal, and entirely base.  It was dirty. It was hot.

Even though he caught me off guard, I still felt myself falling into the  role, needing to participate. I started by gently moving my hips back  to meet his thrusts, trying to match his rhythm. When my ass connected  with his hips, we both cried out. My fingers dug into the arm of the  couch, both from the bliss spiraling through me and trying to find  purchase on something to keep me upright while I used my body to help  Preston find his climax. I used the couch to push myself back onto him  again, this time crying out from the new depths he reached inside of me.