My hands want to be in about a thousand places at once. I’m fighting an inner battle not to drag the belt off the robe and sit her facing me so I can take about a million years to enjoy her tits.
She must have read my mind, or my hands were possibly guiding her, but our kiss is reaching DEFCON 5 as she wiggles around and straddles me, her hands on my cheeks when she finally pulls away.
I’m pinned under her eyes, those amazing eyes, even though I know she can only see me out of one. Her mouth is still open, lips shining, and my cock is up and in full formation.
She has to feel it, but she’s looking at my face. Her fingertips are following the line of my scar again. When she touched me yesterday, she stopped before hitting my burn marks, but now she is gliding over the rippled texture.
As much as I want to spread that robe, I want this. I want her to know me as much as I want to know her. Every part.
“Does it feel different? Can you feel me touching you here?” Her eyes are on mine, her fingers on my face, and all I know is I want more.
“Yep. It feels different; the nerves are different there now. But, I can feel you.”
You have no fucking idea how much I feel you right now.
Everything about her right now has me ravenous.“I can feel you, too.” She whispers, shifting the softness between her legs on top of what has to be the hardest hard-on I’ve ever had.
My mouth falls open as she moved over me.
My eyes fall. The deep blue robe is split open where she’s straddling me, and the sight of just a hint of the luscious, pink skin of her pussy sends me into the fucking red zone.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
Never before would I have given that kind of fucking disclaimer to a chick that was clearly pushing herself down onto my more than willing cock. But, she’s different and everything is new.
“I know.”
When she leans in, my hands are around the back of her head in a flash. My fingers tangle in her damp hair, and I simultaneously grind my lips and cock into her.
A rush of lust like I’ve never experienced before ripples out from my chest and through every extremity.
“You want to tell me something else you don’t want?” I give her a moment to catch her breath, my fingers finding their way down from her hair, over the softness under her ear, down the collar of the robe until I can’t help but tease at the open ‘V’ where the fabric hides the place where my mouth wants to be.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
Alrighty then, game on.
Beckett
There are moments in a battle. A firefight, when you’re aiming your rifle at another human being.
Moments when the flexibility of time becomes clear. Time is fluid, it stretches and contracts depending on the experience.
I want
this
moment to never end.
I want to taste her, touch her. Every inch. I want her every memory, good and bad.
Every dream and fear. Every laugh. Every cry. Every moment.
They all belong to me. They're mine.
I’ve got her mouth held captive with my lips as I flex my hips up, pushing against the heat coming from between her legs. Her pussy is bare. The glimpse I caught has my cock tearing razor wire to get to her.
I’m suffocating, struggling for a breath deep enough to save me from drowning in her. Then she sighs into me, and suddenly we are breathing into each other, saving each other, our mouths wide. Her tongue laps around mine, and I can’t fight wondering how her mouth would feel around my cock.
She is melting against me as my hands wind down her neck, pulling at the lengths of her ivory hair. I hitch my thumbs under the collar of the robe and follow it forward where it crosses in front of her.
My fingertips graze at the flesh by her little, gold, cross necklace. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, her vibrating, muffled whimpers feed me through our kiss.
I want to see, so I break away, and we both gasp into the space between us.
“You keep making those little noises, and you are going to be in a kind of trouble you may not be ready for.” I smile working my fingers up and down.
I want her to know she can still back off because, once we are out the gate, I honestly don’t think I will fuck her in any way, shape or form that is gentle. There is a tightness in me, like a trap ready to be sprung, and she is the prey.
She answers me by shifting back and forth a few inches on the stone-hard length pressing under her and laying her lips back on mine.
That’s it. I work the belt on that damn terrycloth robe like I’m throwing out a lifeline to someone drowning. It’s me; I’m drowning. Drowning in something I’ve never felt before, and I wonder if maybe I’m the one that should be stomping the brakes on what’s about to happen.
What I sure as shit hope is about to happen.
I pull back from our kiss, my eyes starting with her face then moving down.
I’m tearing the thick cloth off her shoulders as stars dance in my eyes are the sheer wonder of her.
“
Jesus.
Promise. You’re amazing.” I’m breathless.
I don’t know if women understand, and I’m just beginning to. When it’s
her
, the one that calls to you like it was written in some ancient, forgotten tablet somewhere that you were destined for this one person, there is nothing we won’t do to protect our claim.
Seeing her like this is the finest moment in my life. I’m listening to her halting, gasping sounds as my hands lay greedy on the warm, curved flesh in front of me.
“You are beyond beautiful. No words have been created to describe you.”
I can’t wait, and my mouth is on her, feeding her to me, my lips coming around her rising pink circle. Drawing it deep, the tension breaks and I let out a growl, my teeth tightening.
When I don’t think this moment can get any better, her hands tangle around my head and her back arches into me.
Fuck.
This is my finest hour. This is what it feels like to want to
make love
to someone. It may not be slow and easy, but I want to
love
her with myself. I’ve never felt anything close to this.
Her body turns into a serpent, curling and twisting on me until I spring at her. Her pussy is dancing on the outside of my jeans, and I’m about to lose my damn mind.
The robe is gone, torn off, and I want to fucking burn it, so nothing ever covers her again.
The ivory perfection that sits on my lap needs to be under me, on top of me, attached to me. All of her and all of me need to become one.
“
Mmmm
.” I suck her as deep into my mouth as I can, and this time, my lips curl back, and my teeth press hard until she yelps. My hands wind up and down her back, memorizing every soft inch.
Even as she makes sweet, painful sounds, her hips turn it up, and she squirms harder on the thick bulge that needs to be set free.
I wrangle her legs around my waist and stand, pulling her against me and finally letting the softness of her amazing tit pull free from my mouth.
“That hurt.” She smiles, and I almost explode at the sight of lust in her eyes and joy on her lips.
“Should I say I’m sorry?”
She shakes her head as her lips part, and she tightens her open body around my waist.
“I need it to hurt.” She says it so softly into my ear, I take a second to be sure I heard her right.
“Why? Why do you need it to hurt?” I admit when she said it, the predator in me took over.
“I don't know,” she whispers.
I want to tear at her. Give her sweet pain along with pleasure only I can give.
“I’m going to put you on that bed, and we’re not going to stop until I’ve tasted every inch of you.”
Her eyes go wide, and she turns her head away, if only slightly, but I can see she needs to say something.
“What?” I kiss her gently between the ripe, round crease where her tits press together in front of my face.
“Nothing.” She pulls her arms around my neck tighter, and the little vixen knows she just pushed her tits closer to my mouth.
My tongue is on her, jetting out with a long, slow lick, but I was not letting whatever is on her mind go.
I lay her down on the bed, her legs still locked around me, and her hair splayed out like a cape behind her head.
I forget my own damn name as she lets her legs go, and I take in the entire magnificence of her on the crisp, white comforter. Her head sinks into the layers of pillows, and I want to freeze time and carry this image around with me forever.
The way she looks at me makes me want to ravish her, but there is this flicker behind her lust, and I want to know what’s going on in her head just as much as I want to take her body.
“What’s wrong?” I bridge my body over hers, locking my elbows and kneeling, straddling the most beautiful woman God ever created.
“Nothing.”
I hate that standard bullshit answer. From any other chick, I’d just accept it at face value and get on with the show, but Promise isn't any chick. She’s mine, and I need to know everything, even when it delays probably the most important fuck of my life.
“Alright, listen. I have all sorts of scary things I want to do to you right now, and if you were inside my head, you’d more than likely be calling 911. But, I want to be crystal clear.” I take a breath and try my best not to stare at her tits. They are certainly giving me the eye. “I can see—No, I can
feel
you either want to say something or you’re feeling uncomfortable or whatever. But you are not
here
one hundred percent. So, I will put some damn cement boots on my dick until you spit it out. I want it all, remember? I told you that, and this is part of ‘all.’ Every time you worry, you give that to me. Every time you get scared, that shit’s mine. Every time you smile, you make my day. So, please, I want to know what you are thinking so I can make this the best day of your life because it’s already the best day of mine.”
Her face flashes from that painful worry in her eyes to safe, and when I see her blink and open her mouth, I stare into her eyes, willing whatever it is she needs to say to come out.
“It’s . . .” She screws up her nose like she does when she’s thinking and I nod, trying to keep the information coming. “This—
god
, why is this so hard?”
“I don’t know but get used to talking about everything, because that is how this is going to roll from now on. Do you get that there is a ‘from now on’ with us?”
I dip down and settle my lips in that sweet spot just above her collar bone, and my dick reminds me that he’s getting pissed off about the hang time.
I drink in the sound of her breath and the way she tilts her head away to give my mouth more of her.
“Tell me whatever it is. Whatever it is, I don’t scare easily. I don’t retreat. I’m right here, and I want more than anything to know. I also want to do a million other things to you but not until you tell me what’s bothering you. So please, for the love of all things holy, tell me.” My voice almost shakes from the strain of having her naked under me. If I fucking start to cry, I’ll lose my man card permanently.
“I’m not exactly a virgin, but I’ve only done it once, and it was a long, long time ago. And, it was bad.” The words fall out of her lips like a gruesome flood full of broken trees and thick mud.
I hate that I know about that, and I can never tell her.
“I want to—” Her hands glide around to the back of my neck, winding up to pull my face to hers, and I lose the ability to think. “I just wanted you to know. I don’t have much experience. I’m not scared really, just nervous.
Really
nervous.
And, Idon’tlikehowIlook
.” Those last seven words came out so fast it took me a second to decode.
My heart is in those million pieces again, and my muscles start to shake, thinking of the fucker that took her first-time and how she has no idea of her value.
“You are, by a magnitude I cannot even describe, more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever seen. Every. Glorious. Inch.” I look slowly up and down, drinking her in. I want her to see what I see. “Look at my face. Every part of me wants you to feel good. Every thought in my head right now is about how can I bring her pleasure? Make her feel safe. Make her feel like she’s mine. Thank you for telling me. But, look at me. What do you see?”
Her eyes dart to my face, settle on my scar, then to my eyes.
“I see you,” she says.
“You see someone who wants your happiness more than his own. In a way I don’t even understand yet. If you say you trust me, I promise I will never hurt you. I will never leave you, and I sure as shit will make you come until you forget anything or anyone that came before.”
Her lips are mine. Her hands pull me down, and I scoop my palms over her cheeks, leaning into a kiss that’s haunted my dreams for too many nights.
“Make love to me,” she whispers in my ear, and I feel like the tunnel of white light just came and claimed me.
Our hands meet in a tangle as I reach lower to try to get the straining button on my jeans open. She is right there with me, and I let her take the lead. There is nothing more beautiful than this. Than her wanting me.
My shirt is an easy mark, already hanging open. I get one arm out, then the other, and for once do not care when it ends up in a heap on the floor.