29 | patience

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"YOU'RE TAKING YOUR SWEET-ASS TIME."

Jamie stood at the side of the bed, in full naked glory. He was motionless save for the lazy journey that his eyes tracked down my body, and the languid strokes of his hand around his cock.

"Savouring the moment," he replied slyly, an appreciative smile dancing on his lips.

True to my combative nature, I had a retort primed and ready at the tip of my tongue. Something about having unlimited time to savour things, something about getting over here, and satisfying my hunger...

"Patience is a virtue, baby," he added. Admittedly, Jamie knew all about patience; I'd made him wait so long for me.

Love wasn't a volatile chemical reaction when one had patience. Patience made things last—and I desperately wanted us to last. So I relaxed, letting out a pensive sigh, lying down on the mattress.

"Patience," I repeated. "I can do that."

Jamie stepped closer.

He climbed onto the bed, his weathered but gentle hands hooking underneath my knees and drawing them apart. I was raw and ready after a prior orgasm, the sensation of open air soothing and stimulating on my core. A tight knot of arousal formed in the back of my throat, the ache matching the one deep in my centre.

As Jamie bent over me, one hand planted by my shoulder, I rubbed my ankle against the side of his thigh. The gliding friction between our skin sent a shiver racing up my limb, and I dragged my leg higher until I could hook it around his waist.

I slid my hands around his ribs, staring up into his intense, lustful gaze. His pelvis met mine, rocking slowly in an imitation of the fucking I wanted from him. A hiss of pleasure escaped me as his hot, thick length pressed against me. Patience.

Jamie's fingers swept a lock of my hair off my bare shoulder before he pressed a kiss to my collarbone, then my pulse point, then my neck, and the ticklish point right below my earlobe. The rhythm of his grinding increased until I nearly begged him—but I refrained.

Then Jamie slid the tip right to my entrance, hovering slightly over my body. There was so much slickness already there, I couldn't wait to feel him again, to connect with him. I grabbed the base of his cock, guiding it into the proper angle while his free hand gripped the back of my neck.

I gave into the desire and reached for him, both pulling each other closer until there wasn't a shred of distance between us. I tensed the leg I had hooked around his lower back, urging him nearer wordlessly. Jamie's hold on my neck stopped me from shifting further up the bed as he thrust forward, pinning me into place while he worked his cock inside my twitching centre.

"Oh," I murmured, my walls clamping tightly around Jamie as he eased himself in. I felt the stretching sensation deep in my bones, each additional inch of depth sparking a burst of pleasure between my legs.

"Holy fuck," Jamie swore. "You feel amazing."

Watching his face above mine, contorted with pleasure—eyebrows furrowed, eyelids drooping, lips slightly parted—was nearly as enjoyable as the physical sensation. This man was gorgeous, and he was mine, and I was his.

Jamie kept ploughing forward, at a slow pace, until he was seated to the hilt. My pussy pulsed earnestly around him. I noticed his supporting arm trembling as he lowered himself slightly to press a chaste kiss to my temple. A low grunt of satisfaction left his mouth, softly caressing my forehead.

He drew out and thrust again, faster this time, and fire burst from the base of my spine to every cell of my body. Another thrust, one that was audible, one that would have sent me slamming into the headboard if Jamie wasn't holding me tightly around the neck.

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