11. Minnie

CHAPTER 11

Minnie

C lay is true to his word. He nips, sucks, and licks at my skin until he lands near my breast. Still, he doesn’t go where I need him the most. He’s building me up slowly which, truth be told, I’m not the least bit surprised. Clay Garcia seems like the type of man who will take his time and won’t finish until he knows the job is done completely. His tongue skates around my nipple, first one and then the other, not taking it into his mouth no matter how much I arch my body.

“More.” My hands go to the back of his head, attempting to hold him to my breast. It doesn’t work. He’s a man on a mission, chipping away at my patience one devastating lick at a time. In the grand scheme of things, the wait will be more than worth it, and in the meantime, I’ll keep pressing my thighs together, clenching the muscles back and forth.

“You want something, sweetheart, tell me,” he whispers across my skin. The wetness he left in his wake only makes me shiver with goose bumps even more.

“I want your mouth on my nipples.” Clay’s looking up at me as he drags his tongue around the puckered flesh again and again. My eyes close, head slamming back on the refrigerator. A shocking contrast, the cold metal to my heated skin.

“Then that’s what you’ll get.” He wraps his lips around one nipple, sucking it deeply into his mouth. An electrical jolt radiates through me. My leg hikes over his hip, trying to gain some type of friction, needing to come so badly I’d do anything to ride out the feeling he gives to me. He moves from one to the other, giving both the attention I crave and desire. What he doesn’t do is linger too long. Nope, he's hellbent on making me squirm.

“Oh god.” Clay lowers his body, tasting my sweat-slickened skin along the way. I’m in over my head with a man willingly going to his knees for me, a man’s man.

“Going to hear you scream my name, sweetheart.” He looks up at me one last time. A puff of air hits my clit just as he hitches my leg over his shoulder, hand going to my lower stomach and holding me steady, or at least I think he is. His tongue hits my clit, and he doesn’t mess around. He tastes me, down one side and up the other, sinking inside me and opening his mouth, overwhelming me in the best way possible. His hand presses deeper, his other disappears from holding the back of my thigh, and that’s when I feel it. Clay’s mouth is wrapped around my clit, greedily sucking on the tight nub while one finger slides in, gliding in and out. The only noises in the house are my panting, Clay’s breathing, and the wetness he’s helped create between his mouth and fingers.

“Clay.” My eyes close when I feel him adding another digit, hooking them forward. My stomach shudders. He presses my lower abdomen and then works me all the way up until I’m completely and utterly depleted of energy. My orgasm hits fast and hard. Wetness coats me like I’ve never felt before, and it’s in that moment I realize why he had his hand on my stomach. Clay wasn’t using it to hold me up; he was doing it to create something I’ve never felt before. Jesus, I’ve only heard about this happening to others or in the form of a romance book Lennie made me read because she swore the sex scenes were hot. I can now clearly state real life is in fact better than fiction. Clay’s lips and tongue thoroughly work their way over my sensitive skin, whether it’s to continue tasting me or licking me clean, I’m not sure, and I really don’t think I care enough to ask either.

He stands up, hands clasping my waist, lifting me up, and I wrap my legs around him. My hands grip his shoulders. I won’t be the only one with marks all over my body. Clay will have a matching set. My nails dig into his skin when he grazes my clit with the underside of his cock. Wetness from his mouth and my orgasm coats his length. A shudder rolls through me, still coming down from my orgasm.

“Oh God, you’re big. Too big.” He slams inside of me with one swift shift of his hips. He may have worked me with his mouth and fingers, but he’s big, really big, bigger than I’ve ever had before.

“Tell me when you’re ready.” He holds still. My legs tighten around his waist.

“I’m good.” My muscles relax around him. Greediness takes over, and then I’m lifting up slightly, barely an inch with how he has me pinned to the fridge. It’s an utterly amazing sensation to know this sexy cowboy can hold me up without even flinching.

“Hold on, Clementine. I’m gonna fuck you now.” As if he hasn’t been doing that since the moment our clothes dropped to the ground. A tight delicious burn works with each snap of his hips, this time slower and steadier. His eyes lock on mine, our breaths mingling with one another and each powerful movement of his body enveloping mine.

It’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced.

It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before.

And it’s looking a lot like love.

“Clay,” I whimper his name. The pain is gone. Nothing but pleasure is taking over. Every time he pulls back and pushes in with a swivel of his hip, his pelvis hits my clit. It’s enough for me to see stars. “I’m not going to be able to last much longer,” I tell him. The inferno inside me is blazing, yet goose bumps coat my body.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You feel so good, wet and tight, taking me so good. You like this, don’t you. Taking me bare, knowing I’m going to come inside you, feeling myself mixed with you. Gonna want this forever, Clementine.” His admission sets me off. My center clenches down, his words and the way he moves doing it for me.

“Clay!” True to his words, he’s making me scream his name. My orgasm hits fast and hard. Even if I wanted it to slow down, there’s no way I could.

“Christ, Clementine.” His eyes close just as mine open, and I get to watch him lose himself inside me. It’s the hottest thing ever. I feel him come inside me. Each flex of his hips has him pouring deep into me. His orgasm may only be subsiding, but I can’t wait to have him again.