For Everything by Rae Spencer Page A

arched into his mouth. “Clay.”
    He wrapped his other arm over her waist keeping her body in place. His fingers massaged, teasing her breasts with her.
    He nipped then sucked her clit. She sobbed, slamming down against his mouth, her fingers tightening on her breasts. His tongue licked her juices as the release flowed through her body.
    Her body at ease, she lay on top of him. She could feel his cock throbbing against her shoulder.
    He kissed her thighs pulling her up. “Slide off,” he said, his tawny eyes dark.
    She knelt in front of him.
    “Turn around and kneel.” His fingers glided along her thigh.
    She turned her ass toward him. He clasped her waist kneeling behind her, his cock throbbing against her thighs. He thrust his cock into her pussy until he balls was deep.
    She quivered. He pushed her closer to the bed, his hands caressing her ass as he began to pump fast and hard into her.
    She clenched her fists in the covers, her breasts jiggling as they hung with each of his strokes. She glanced over her shoulder at him. His head thrown back, eyes closed and lips parted as he pumped into her. Sweat streamed down his chest, glistening in the light.
    He growled, opening his eyes, watching her eyes flare with each of his strokes. His fingers gripped her hips, his neck arched and the tide broke. He slammed into her, riding her powerfully, his eyes never leaving hers.
    She closed her eyes, her body shuddering as her pussy muscles clenched his cock. He exploded inside of her, his seed shooting deep, a groan escaping his lips.
    She collapsed on the bed, Clay following right on top of her, his breathing heavy in her ear. He rolled them to their sides, his lips brushing her shoulder.
    She reached back tracing her fingers over his cheek snuggling closer. He was soft, but still inside of her and she smiled as her eyes closed.
     

Chapter 18
     
    She was almost ready for dinner. She wore the dress Clay bought her, but was nervous. She kept checking in the mirror, looking for gaps in the dress, to see if any of her scars showed.
    She turned, seeing Clay standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, a habit of his and she smiled.
    He smiled back. “Don’t worry. You are beautiful.” He walked over to stand in front of her, stroking her cheek. “Don’t ever doubt it.”
    She bit her lip, staring into his eyes. She didn’t believe him. She couldn’t, but she wanted to. He probably only said these things to her because she was having sex with him.
    “I am serious.” He watched her dusky eyes, the doubts race across them.
    She chewed her cheek. “Are you ready?”
    “Yeah.” He hid his smile, knowing that was her way of avoiding a conversation.
    He cupped her cheeks. “Lily, you are beautiful to me,” he whispered, “you have always been and will always be.”
    Her eyes lit up, but she didn’t comment.
    He kissed her, looking down. “You are not ready. Where are your shoes?”
    She laughed. “I have to put them on.” She sat on the bed rolling her stockings on.
    He sat next to her. “Why wear stockings and garters, not that I mind because they are hot, but most women wear pantyhose?”
    She glanced up at him, chewed her cheek for a moment, taking a deep breath she confessed. “Pantyhose irritates the scars on my stomach, the nylon makes them itch.”
    He ran his fingers over her stockings. “What is the difference?”
    “The material is different, these are silk.” She ran her fingers along the stocking next to his. “Not nylon, the silk doesn’t pull or scratch the scars as much, it is softer.”
    “I see.” He watched her bend over, rolling the stocking on her leg.
    She clipped the stocking to her garter. “These only come up to my thighs, I have fewer scars there, so if there is irritation is not as bad as when I wear pantyhose on my stomach.”
    “Is that why your underwear is cotton?” He asked.
    “Yeah.” Her cheeks tingled; surprised he noticed the underwear she wore. “I find cotton