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Fused With Him
-- EXCERPT: “Now, I want it now, Bray.” “Demanding little thing when you’re horny, aren’t you? You can’t have my cock now. You’re going to come on my hand now, Reilly. Then you will sit through the whole of dinner knowing that by the end of the night, my cock will be buried deep inside your cunt.” “Argh, why can’t I have it now? I need it,” she argues. She’s so close to coming though. I can feel her body quaking, trembling all over, the urgency in her movements increasing. “Be a good girl, Reilly, and come for me now,” I demand, my voice husky and filled with need. She does not let me down. She comes all over my fingers, her screams of pleasure music to my fucking ears. I ease up my strokes as she comes down from her orgasmic bliss. Her cheeks are rosy and her face a picture of pure bliss and relaxation. I ease my fingers out of her, putting them straight to my mouth. Now it’s my turn to moan. Her taste is just as fucking sweet and delicious as I remember. I take my time licking all of her juices off my fingers, savouring the taste. “Thank you,” I say to her as I gently kiss her lips. “You’re welcome?” she questions. I can’t help but laugh as I pull the seatbelt over her and buckle her back in. “Let’s hope this dinner goes fast so I can get you home and naked in my bed.” As I’m buckling my seatbelt, Reilly halts my movement, grabbing my arm. “Wait, don’t you want me to, you know, return the favour?” she asks, waving her hand in the direction of my very obvious cock. “As much as I would love that, the next time I come is going to be when my cock is buried inside your pussy,” I declare. “Ahh, okay then.” She lets go of my arm and settles into the seat. “You’re really good at that, by the way.” I laugh, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t? I can’t have my girlfriend left unsatisfied and wanting, now can I? That would not be good for my rep.” “Don’t you think you’re wearing out that whole boyfriend/ girlfriend title thing already?” She smiles. “Probably, we should go to Vegas and get married by Elvis, then I can move on to calling you my wife already. Also, I look fucking great in a tux.” My suggestion is not received well. “Please tell me you are joking and haven’t gone all grade-A crazy on me already. I’m barely accepting that you have the boyfriend label, Bray. There is no way in hell you’re getting promoted to husband label after one day of actual dating. Who does that anyway? That’s crazy. Like straight jacket kind of crazy. Should I call Zac now and tell him he needs to have you scheduled? Are you sick?” She finishes her rambling with the back of her hand against my forehead. “Not sick, babe. Relax, it was a joke.” I watch as her body begins to relax before I tack on the “mostly” to the end of my sentence. She glares at me. I think I need to remind myself that this one is a flight risk; I need to think before I speak a bit more. It was a joke though; I couldn’t actually fly her to Vegas to marry her tonight. I wouldn’t be able to get a jet booked until at least tomorrow. 
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