Home > Books > Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)(138)

Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)(138)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“That’s not necessary, Eli.”

“It is for me.” He tilts my chin up so I have to look him in the eyes. “Please, let me do this for you.”

I sigh heavily and curl into him again. “I mean if you must.”

He chuckles. “I must.” And then he kisses the top of my head. “Penny?”

“Yeah?” I ask as my hand wanders farther down his abs. “I hope you realize, I’m going to fuck you again . . . and again . . . and again. I hope you aren’t planning on sleeping.”

“Wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Good morning,” I say as Eli hovers over me, a smile on his face.

“Happy Birthday.”

“It was yesterday,” I groan as I attempt to close my eyes again, but he’s not going to have anything to do with that as he pulls the covers off my body.

“Eli, this is not how you wake someone. I’m naked and cold.”

His hand slides up my back. “Quite aware you’re naked. That’s why I’m going to need you to sit on my face.”

“Huh?” I ask, opening my eyes just as he lies back on the mattress.

“I said, sit on my face.” In one fell swoop, he maneuvers me out of my comfortable curled-up spot, and he positions me on his stomach.

“Eli, what on earth?”

“Babe.” He gives me a look as the nickname makes my stomach feel all warm and fuzzy. “I want that pussy. Now sit on my goddamn face.”

He grabs my hips and moves me closer until I’m right up against the headboard, my pussy right at his mouth.

“Perfect.” He parts me with his fingers and then presses his tongue to my clit.

“Oh Jesus,” I say, knowing once again, it’s going to be quick for me. This pregnancy has made me hypersensitive.

“Fuck, I can feel you getting wet on my tongue.” He laps at my clit with long, languid strokes. It feels so good that I start to move my hips, searching out more. He does the same as he presses two fingers inside me.

“Oh, Eli,” I moan, my hands fully on the headboard now, gripping hard, while I’m riding his tongue. “God, this is . . . I’ve never done this before.”

And then something occurs in my mind. If I’m this turned on, how turned on is he?

From over my shoulder, I check on his cock and see that it’s hard as stone and stretching up his stomach. The veins desperately search for any kind of relief from the blood pooling inside them.

I lift off him, and just as he protests, I rotate and stick my pussy back near his face as I lift his cock and suck him hard into my mouth.

“Fucking Christ,” he moans as his thick quads flex beneath me. “Ahh, baby, you’re so good at that. So fucking good.”

I swirl my tongue over the head of his cock three times before flicking my tongue on the underside. While squeezing the base, I repeat the motion over and over again.

His tongue has slowed down on my clit, now just tenderly flicking it, driving me nuts as he pushes his hips at me.

“Shit, I’m sorry. You’re just . . . fuck, you’re making me forget.”

He spreads me again, and this time, he sucks my clit into his mouth, and I nearly fly right off his cock. A feral cry falls past my lips. He does the same from the squeeze I have on him, and then together, we try to make each other come faster.

Him sucking on my clit.

Me sucking on his cock.

We moan together.

We rock together.

When we can’t take anymore, pleasure rips through us, and we both come in each other’s mouths, riding out the last of our orgasms until nothing is left.

Breathing heavily, I roll off him and lie flat on the bed, my back on the mattress. I stare at the ceiling and press my hand to my heart.

He crawls over me and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “You taste so fucking good, Penny.” Then he moves down my body and kisses my stomach. “You have a little bump.”

“Yeah, it’s really popped out in the last couple of days. I need to get some more maternity clothes because things aren’t really fitting that much anymore.”

“Then I know exactly what we’re doing today,” he says, pressing another kiss to my stomach. “Shopping spree.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I laugh out loud.

“Why do you seem more excited about the prospect of shopping for clothes than I do?”

“You’re not?”

“No, I am,” I say. I stand from the bed, he holds out his button-up shirt to me, and I slip into it as he puts on a pair of shorts. I only bother with a few buttons because what’s the point, really? I just sat on the man’s face. “But you seem really excited.”