His fingers slide lower, push inside me, and my eyes roll back as the intense feeling rolls through me.
“Fuck,” I gasp. I’m so full, and it’s only his fingers. What’s it going to be like when it’s him inside me? I’m going to break in half.
“Tell me it’s good, Hazel.”
“It’s fine at best,” I choke out, wanting to tease him even now, but he laughs, and his fingers hook against a spot that makes my vision blur.
Who am I kidding? I’d say anything to make him keep going.
“It’s good,” I rush out. “It’s so good. Your hand is incredible, Rory.”
He makes that pleased humming noise of approval again, and my muscles clench around his fingers.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
With a big arm around my hips, he hooks my panties aside, pulls me toward his mouth, and licks a long line up my seam. Pleasure ripples through me. I should be embarrassed at the needy, desperate noise that stutters out of me, but I’m not. I don’t care.
“I knew I’d love that,” he growls, and I clench again. His fingers are huge, and my muscles ache around them in the most mind-bending, pleasant way as he slowly strokes in and out of me.
His tongue swirls on my clit, and I’m lost, spinning out. Everything is tightening, tensing, and the pleasure is almost unbearable. Rory’s lips close over my clit and his eyes meet mine as he sucks. He lets out the same groan he did earlier tonight when he was eating, that satisfied, ravenous sound that sends electricity through my limbs.
The sensations are overwhelming—the hot, wet pull of his lips on my clit, the stretch of his fingers inside me, and the silken strands of his hair clutched between my fingers. Everything loops together, building in intensity as Rory coaxes me closer to release.
The noises he’s making? They only wind me higher. Rory Miller has ascended to a whole new level.
It’s never been like this. Never. No one has ever touched me like this, enjoyed touching me and making me feel like this.
A tiny flicker of fear moves through me, because this is going to change things with us. It was so much easier to lump Rory in with the rest of the guys I didn’t care about.
Like he can sense my worry, he yanks my panties down so he doesn’t have to pull them aside. They pool at my feet as he takes one of my hands, interlacing our fingers. My lips part. His hand swallows mine up, but the contact of our palms together while he’s on the floor like that in front of me, while he pulls on my clit and looks up at me like my pleasure is his pleasure?
My mind goes blank, and I sink into the needy, intoxicated feelings in my blood.
He sucks on the sensitive bundle of nerves rhythmically, and my fingers tighten against his. My hips tilt against his mouth, desperate for more friction, more pressure.
The first flutters start, but that stubborn part of me digs her heels in. No, no, no. If he actually does make me come, I don’t know what that will mean, and I hate that he’ll get the satisfaction of winning.
“Stop holding back, Hartley.”
His tongue sweeps fast, so hot and slick. The heated look of ecstasy in his eyes sends a streak of pleasure through me. His face is flushed, and why is that so hot? He’s wearing an expression like my pussy is the best thing he’s ever tasted, like he’ll die if he can’t keep doing this. Inside me, his fingers crook, finding my G-spot.
My release closes in on me, building, expanding, boiling over.
“I’m coming,” I choke out, working myself over his mouth, and his fingers squeeze mine as searing, blinding heat twists and coils through me. “Rory.”
His groan reverberates against me, and I’m still coming. It’s arcing through me, making me shudder and shake on his mouth. I think my eyes are closed, or maybe they’re open and I’m just so overtaken by this orgasm barreling through me that I don’t know the difference. His brow is creased, eyes closed, and I hit another peak, crying out while he squeezes my hand.
The waves subside and my mind clears, and I blink about a hundred times. I usually don’t come during hookups.
“Fuck,” he says desperately against my clit, breathing hard. “Hazel.”
He says my name like a curse, like he’s mad, but he stands and backs me against the door, both of us breathing hard. His eyes are glazed, half-lidded and dark, and his cock juts out, tenting the front of his pants. He brings his fingers to his lips, holding my eyes while he sucks my arousal from them.
A shudder rolls through me.
“Tell me it was good,” he rasps, inches from my mouth.