Enchanted Spring Read Free Page B

felt a quick, irresistible spurt of pre-cum. He placed his hand on hers, stilling the gentle tug of her fingers, the heat of her palm against him.
    “I don’t want to come yet,” he said. “I want to savor our first time.”
    * * * * *
     
    Connie smiled at Jamieson, his cock throbbing in her hand, her pussy dripping in anticipation. She thought of all the months she’d watched him, all the nights she’d dreamed about him in her bed, his cock in her mouth, in her pussy, his cum all over her belly.
    “I’ve been waiting forever for you,” she said. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”
    Swinging her leg over his hip, she rubbed her nipples against the dark curly hair on his chest and sighed at the sensation, moaned when he reached up and palmed her breasts, tugging on the hard pink nipples.
    He rolled her over, laying her flat on the bed. He held her arms splayed to the side, and he controlled her legs between his. She couldn’t move, and the tension in her cunt intensified.
    Jamieson ravaged her. His teeth nipped at the tendons in her neck, the tight skin over her collarbone, the tender indent at the base of her throat. He savored the pounding of her pulse in that spot, then moved lower. Each nipple pulled tight into his mouth, his tongue rolling over the areola, his teeth sharp, waiting for her moans.
    “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please, please, please, don’t stop.”
    And he didn’t.
    He moved down her belly, tongue and teeth and mouth. He was tempted to mark her where the world could see that she belonged to him. But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t wait.
    Wanting the taste of her in his mouth, in his nostrils, while he fucked her, while his cock was enfolded in her cunt, he ran his tongue into her folds. Now he wanted to stay there forever. She was damp and hot and oh so aromatic, and he couldn’t stop himself. He whispered, “Don’t move,” and used his thumbs to spread her tender folds, giving him complete access to her center.
    He sucked her clit into his mouth, and her ass came off the bed, pushing against him, her voice hoarse and begging for more. Licking. Biting. Using tongue and lips and fingers, he drove her until she rolled beneath him, and he fucked her with his fingers and his mouth until she exploded beneath him, until she screamed her release, and then…
    Jamieson positioned Connie’s limp body so her butt was on the edge of the bed, his arms under her knees, spreading her open. He smiled at the look of utter exhaustion combining with Do me again on her face. His cock ached for her, but he waited, fascinated by the trembling muscles in her belly, the deep red blush of her pussy, her hooded eyes. “Fuck me,” Connie said. “Now.”
    And he did, his cock thrusting deep and hard, and her pussy clenched around him, trying desperately to hold him, while a ripple of excitement ran through his hands, and into her cunt.
    This time, it was Jamieson who screamed, and she who bore witness to his release. One push, then another, and another wave of orgasm overwhelmed her, meeting his thrusts with her own, until slowly and carefully he moved her up the bed, wrapping his arms around her.
    “Don’t go,” he said, his voice slow and lazy.
    “I can’t move. And besides, I want to do this again.”
    Connie rested her head on Jamieson’s shoulder, his arm around her, their legs entwined, the sun hot on their bodies, and she knew she was right where she belonged.

 

     
     
Cobblestone Press, LLC

     
    Author Bio

    Josee Renard writes women’s fiction, magic realism, paranormal, and erotica—short fiction, poetry, and novels. Josee blames her good friend Anna Leigh Keaton for getting her into writing erotica—she loves Anna Leigh’s books and wanted to try writing one herself. She blames her mother and her two grandmothers for her reading and writing obsession. All of them were avid readers, and they passed their books and their obsession on to her. She’d love to hear from you. You