Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Roxy
Shivers race up and down my spine as he reclaims me. Just yesterday, I was bound and determined to put distance between us, yet after I saw things from his perspective, every damn thing changed. The turn of events should have me backtracking, protecting myself from any more heartbreak, but this man, the one holding me in his arms, he’s the man I remember from before life threw us for a loop.
When we separate, we’re both panting from excitement. “Fuck, but I’ve missed you, Foxy Roxy. It feels as if a Genie has been released from its bottle and has granted us three wishes that are all starting to come true.”
A thrill of exhilaration consumes me. My eyes close for a moment as I not only take in his last words and thank that Genie with every fiber of my being but also take in the fact that he’s using my name he gave me all those years ago before either of us understood that there was life past simply surviving.
“I’ve missed you too, Weston. Not a day has passed by that I hadn’t wished for the power to turn back time and have a do-over. I let my worries and fears consume me and didn’t take into consideration how you were feeling or what trauma it could cause you.”
“This, right here and right now, you and me, is our do-over, Foxy. From here on out, we talk, we don’t go to bed angry nor do we make any assumptions. You’re mine and I’m never letting you go again.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I declare, placing my hands on his shoulders and lifting up on my toes so I can plant my lips on his.
Our kiss is full of fiery passion. He moans into my mouth as he lifts me up by placing his hands on the cheeks of my ass. My legs automatically elevate and wrap around his waist as my arms raise and branch around his neck as we continue to devour one another. We jostle as he crawls up onto the bed, me still coiled around him like a vine. As he lays me on my back, he never releases me, if anything, he grabs onto me harder—securing me to him.
After that dream, or whatever the hell it was, I ran to his room without changing out of my long, threadbare sleep shirt and panties. When he wrenches back, his eyes take in every inch of me and admiration blazes in his eyes. I can see the affection, devotion, and reverence with each sweep of his look.
“Damn, you’re still the sexiest woman I’ve ever met,” he huskily exclaims. “Your tits are impeccable. The globes that fit my hands with perfection, trust me, I know this first hand.”
I chuckle at that because I can only imagine if he was transferred into my body the way I was his, he did a little exploring of his own. I’m just grateful that I didn’t get a little more handsy than what I did because otherwise, we may have had to wait a little longer for this reunion.
“It was an odd sensation switching places like that, wasn’t it?” I inquire, biting my bottom lip. “You’re rather… large, aren’t you? I almost forgot how big you are until the moment I let my hands travel below the waistline and copped a feel.”
He chuckles before telling me, “I’m no bigger than the average man, Foxy.”
“Oh, Weston, there’s nothing average about you,” I tease him. “It’s been so long I’m not sure you’re still going to fit.”
“I’ll fit,” he reassures me. “You were made for me.”
“Show me,” I whisper, my voice now a purr.
“Gladly, Foxy. But first, we need to shed these clothes,” he tells me, yanking at the collar of my top.
The hunger in his eyes deepens as he rips my shirt off my body and tosses it through the air. I gnaw on my bottom lip as he traces the hem of my panties, his finger grazing over the elastic band causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to get a taste of you.” His finger changes places and swipes over my sensitive folds, the cotton material of my underwear adding to the friction. “Can I kiss you here, Foxy Roxy?”
“Yes. Please,” I whine. My imagination flips to the romance novels that I devour, and I picture him shredding the material in his angst, but he’s not Mighty Mouse, however, with the speed in which he removes them from my body, he has channeled Speedy Gonzales. Amusement at that analogy, relating to his hasty quickness, has me smiling.
“What has you smirking like that, my Foxy Roxy?”
“N-nothing,” I stammer as he swipes the pad of his thumb over my distended clit.
“No?” He slants his head sideways, a contemplative look crossing his face. “If you find something amusing about me baring you to me, then we need to rectify that.”
“How?” I ask, my bemusement replaced with want. Need. Desire.
“By reminding you who’s in charge when we’re in the bedroom,” he states.
“Oh, God,” I hiss, remembering how domineering he can be when my mind isn’t on task.
“Flip over, Foxy. Hands and knees, present that pretty pussy to me, baby.”
As if I’ve been shocked by a live wire, I turn over on autopilot as he backs away, lifting up on my knees before my palms plant into the mattress. All of my weight is distributed between the two, and my head falls forward as he uses his thumbs to open me wide.
“So damn pink. Is all of this glisten for me, Foxy?”
“Yes,” I groan, dropping my forehead to the pillow. “It’s all yours, Weston.”
“Damn fucking right it is,” he growls, inserting both thumbs into my opening. “So damn wet. You don’t need any foreplay, do you, baby?”
“No,” I answer. “Please, Weston.”
“Please what, Foxy Roxy?”
“Please insert that big, fat cock inside of me.”
“Shit. I forgot how dirty your mouth can be when we're in the bedroom, Foxy. You’re so damn prim and proper at work that I let that slip my mind.” I don’t get a chance to retort before he’s bent over, swiping me from top to bottom with his tongue. I rock forward as he sucks my clit fully into his mouth, using his tongue to add circles to the bundle of nerves. I lose all track of time as he nibbles, sucks, licks, and amps up my libido. I’m a squirming mess by the time he’s done, screaming out his name as I explode from his ministrations.
“Delicious,” he says, wiping my essence from his mouth with the flat sheet. “Bend your elbows, Foxy, and prepare.”
“M’kay,” I agree, slurring. My arms and legs feel like limp noodles as I come down from the high of the incendiary orgasm that had black spots dancing behind my lids. When my head falls solidly into the pillow, my hands become a linchpin as I reach up and use the wall as an anchor to keep my head from slamming into it.
“You’re mine,” he decrees as he slams into me in one thrust.
“Yours,” I murmur, my voice being swallowed by the fabric of the pillowcase.
“What was that, Foxy?”
Twisting my head to the side, I repeat, “Yours. I’m yours.”
“Until the day you pass from this world,” he edicts, swiveling his hips and shoving himself so deep inside of me that I swear I can feel him in my womb.
As he pistons in and out of me, I see stars. I haven’t felt pleasure like this since the last time we made love. Long ago, he told me that no matter how wild we are when we come together, it’ll always be making love.
We don’t fuck.
We don’t have sex because everything we do is full of love and compassion.
“Weston,” I moan as the head of his dick connects with my G-spot. “Oh, shit.” I know what’s about to hit me will be like a tsunami and I welcome it, the raw, pounding fervor of our passion as it flames brighter and brighter.
“That’s it, baby. Come on my dick.” He reaches down and lifts me to where my back is plastered against his chest. His hips continue plunging into me as I detonate with the new position. “Yes. Yes. Fuck, yes,” he chants as he rocks his pelvis into me one last time, emptying himself inside of me.
We collapse—our limbs twisted around the others in a sweaty, sated mess. “I can’t believe I forgot.”
“Forgot what, baby?” he inquires, kissing me behind my ear.
“Us. I can’t believe I forgot us, Weston.”
“I won’t ever let you forget again,” he swears.
“Promise?” I beg.
“Forever,” he pledges. “Sleep, baby, because we’re going to be doing that again and you’re going to need your strength.”
“Mmm… yes please.” Sleep claims me before I have any more coherent thoughts.
I miss his whisper in my ear, “I forgot us and how we were together too, Foxy Roxy. But never again.”