Well, Actually

by Mazey Eddings

“Show me how much you want it,” Rylie whispers, gripping my thigh and nudging me to straddle his hips. I position myself over him, the head of his cock brushing my slick entrance. My hips start rocking, just the tip of him in me, and I clench hard, wanting him to fill me fully. Rylie hisses through his teeth. I slide down his thick length slowly, reveling in the stretch, the way every new inch is more delicious than the last. I watch his face as I tease him, the concentrated agony in the set of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils, pupils blown wide and black as he watches me. When I can’t take it anymore, I seat myself fully, flush to his pelvis. Rylie’s groan of need is scraped from his throat, desperate and hungry and ready. His abs flex as he curls up, taking my nipple into his mouth with an insistent pressure, the movement pushing him even deeper so sensation slices through me and I cry out, fisting his hair in my hands and gripping him tighter to me. I may be on top but there’s no doubt who’s in control here. Rylie collapses back against the sheets, and I plant my palms on his chest to keep my balance, nails biting into his flesh. “Look at how perfectly you take me, Eva,” he says, voice revenant, almost slurred, eyes hazed and locked on where we’re joined. His hands frame my hips, fingertips digging into my ass as he grinds me back and forth, a barely there motion that emphasizes how full I am. I squeeze around him. “Fuck,” Rylie grunts, expression shattered. “How are ...