38. April
Chapter 38
April
“ O ur coffee’s getting cold.” I giggle, watching James’s hands glide down the front of my bathrobe, his fingers gently tugging at the belt around my waist, slowly unravelling it.
“We can always make more.”
He eases the soft fabric apart, exposing my naked body. My nipples harden into taut peaks. My back bows, seeking his touch. His rough fingers trace over my bare breasts, teasing the sensitive skin before clamping my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, drawing a cry from my lips. A rush of heat pools at my core. I’m already wet and aching for him.
He takes his time, pinching and kneading my breasts, and I squirm against him, desperate for relief. For more . My breath comes in shallow and uneven pants.
“Fuck, James.”
His voice drops to a low, gravelly murmur, “Do you like that?”
“Yes,” I breathe, grinding my hips, seeking friction.
I feel him smile against my ear. One of his hands drifts lower, gliding down my abdomen until he reaches my slick centre, and I feel him harden against my back. He runs a finger through my slit, and I hear his rough exhale. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, as he raises his hand to study his glistening fingers. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“What do I do?” I whisper, knowing full well what I do to him.
He presses his erection into me. “This.”
I catch his wrist, lowering it to my centre again, and he rewards me with a slow, teasing stroke from my entrance to my clit, where he stops to circle. A low whimper escapes me, relieved to feel his touch exactly where I need it most.
“Yes,” I coax him on, and he obliges.
“Is this what you do to yourself? When you’re alone? When you think about me?” His other hand trails down to dip two thick fingers inside me, curling them to find that perfect spot.
“Yes,” I moan loudly, completely shameless, and he groans in response when he feels my sex clench around him. “Just like that.”
“Fuck, you’re such a sexy little thing,” he says.
He keeps working me, thrusting and curling his fingers just right while his other hand teases my clit. I pant as the heat gathers low in my belly, but he doesn’t let up. He continues edging me. The wet sounds of his fingers working me only spur me on, and I can feel my juices seeping into the fabric of the sofa beneath me. I whimper, hips rocking, desperately chasing my release.
Stars dance across my vision as I shatter, waves of warmth crashing through me in rough pulses. My body shakes under his touch, shuddering as my orgasm tears through me. I grip his forearms, desperate to hold on to something as cries spill from my lips. His fingers slow, matching the pulse of my release, ringing out every last tremor until I feel completely spent.
He slowly pulls his wet fingers from me. I turn in his arms, wide-eyed as I watch him lift those slick fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. His pupils dilate, and a low, guttural groan escapes him.
“Fuck, April,” he murmurs. “You taste so fucking good.”
I push myself off the couch, my heart pounding in my chest as I drop to my knees before him. My robe hangs open and the air brushes over my wet centre. I nudge his legs apart, settling into the space between them. He watches as I untuck the towel from his waist and part it.
His hard, thick cock springs free, standing proudly. I admire him—his perfect olive skin, the intricate tattoos I’ve traced with my fingers and tongue, inch by inch, and that mussed blond hair that begs to be pulled. His broad shoulders, defined abs, and bulging biceps that make him appear as if he were carved from marble. I’ll never get over his cock. It’s the prettiest I’ve seen—long, thick, and perfectly cut.
I wrap my fingers around the base, and he rewards me with a deep rumble. I smirk to myself, because I’ve done this. I’ve made him this hard. Lowering my head, I lap my tongue over the bead of precum at his tip, and we both moan. His salty, musky flavour coats my tongue, and the taste makes me hungry for more. Flattening my tongue along his length, I lick long, slow strokes from base to crown, my hand following in rhythm as I begin to pump him.
“That’s it,” he says, his voice dripping with praise. “Look at you. So fucking perfect with your lips wrapped around my cock.” His head falls back against the sofa. “Deeper, honey. You can take it.”
His filthy words encourage me, and I’m aching to unravel him. His large hands knot in my hair, guiding my head up and down his length, each thrust tapping the back of my throat. Tears spill from the corners of my eyes but I don’t care—I relax my throat, breathe through my nose, and take everything he gives me.
I gently begin to massage his balls with my free hand, and his breath grows choppy and ragged, his grip in my hair punishing as he moves me faster and harder, greedily fucking my mouth. I hum around him, sucking eagerly, and hollowing my cheeks, determined to give him everything I have.
“Fuck, I can’t last much longer,” he says through ragged pants.
I keep going, licking, sucking, and massaging, loving the way he responds to me. The muscles in his thighs tense beneath my palms. He’s close, and I want nothing more than to tip him over the edge.
“I’m going to come, April … Do you want my cum?” he asks.
I hum around him in agreement. He moans deeply as he unloads in my mouth, hot cum lashing the back of my throat.
Leaning forward, he meets me at eye level, gently cradling my jaw in his hand. I open my mouth, showing him his seed. “I want to see you swallow it,” he says, his thumb tugging at my bottom lip. Holding his gaze, I obediently gulp, swallowing every drop. A small, satisfied smile curls his lips as I open my mouth to show him it’s all gone. “Good girl.” He grips my waist and pulls me up to straddle him. I wrap my arms around his neck and plant my knees on either side of his thighs, feeling him harden underneath me.
I pull away and cock my eyebrow playfully. “Again?”
“I can’t get enough of you,” he replies. He slowly slides the belt from my robe, nodding towards the seat next to him. “Lie back.”
Obeying, I slip off his lap and lean against the sofa cushions.
“Arms above your head.” He leans over me, and I feel my heart leap into my throat as he slowly wraps the belt around my wrists, tying it in a secure knot. “Tug,” he instructs, and I test it, finding myself unable to move. His eyes simmer with heat, as he takes in the sight of me. “Keep them there.” I nod silently. “Let me look at you.”
I drop my knees, and my legs fall open to expose my wet centre. He draws in a sharp breath. “God, you drive me wild, April. Every inch of you.” He trails his fingers lightly over my skin, making me shiver. I feel myself growing slicker with every touch.
My eyes drift down his body, full of admiration and appreciation, until they land on his cock—angry for attention. He runs his cock through the wetness, lubricating himself. I rock my hips as he pushes into me. My eyes roll back, and my mouth falls open in a silent O as I lift my hips, urging him deeper.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he groans, pushing in until he’s fully seated.
“Yes,” I whimper.
His thumb presses against my lips, and I part them, swirling my tongue around it as I suck. His pupils dilate as he watches me. He starts moving. He pulls out, just to the tip before ramming back into me. The force of his repeated thrusts makes me gasp, my tits bouncing, and his thumb slips from my lips to my jaw.
“Open wide,” he murmurs, and I obey, opening my mouth for him. Holding my jaw, he leans forward and spits into my mouth. I moan louder than I care to admit, closing my lips to swallow. I move my hips, matching his thrusts. My wrists strain against the robe’s belt as he jams into me over and over. I’m savage.
Fire blooms under my skin as waves of electricity ripple through my body, teetering on the edge. I clap my legs around his waist, tilting my hips so he hits the perfect spot with every stroke.
“Ah!” I shout, yanking against the tie.
“That’s it,” he says. His hand lowers and his fingers start strumming my clit. “Come for me, baby.” I unravel when he picks up his pace, fucking me with fervour.
“I’m coming,” I manage, my voice straining. I feel a rush of wetness leave me, coating him just as he swells and pulses inside me.
“ Jesus , April.” His groan is low and deep as he reaches his release, filling me.
He drops to his elbows, caging me in. He dusts his thumb across my jaw before his hands move to untie the robe belt from my wrists. Once undone, he discards the fabric and rubs slow, soothing circles over my skin. A gentle smile tugs at his lips as he lifts one of my hands to his mouth, peppering feather-light kisses over my knuckles.
I squeeze my eyes shut as my lower lip begins to tremble. The prick of tears builds behind my eyelids as emotion, too big to contain, swells inside me. I can feel myself becoming consumed by him.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers. “What’s wrong?”
Steadying myself, I open my eyes to meet his waiting gaze. “I’m terrified.”
His brows pull together as he cups my cheek. “Terrified of what?”
“Of the way I feel for you.”
He drops his forehead to mine. “You don’t have to be scared,” he murmurs, “because I’m right here. I feel it too, just as deeply.” He brushes away a tear that slips free. “Okay?”
I nod.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, and my heart explodes.
“I’m yours.”
He pulls out slowly, and I feel his liquid trickle between my cheeks. Standing, he offers a hand to help me to my feet. Just as I turn to head upstairs, his fingers curl around my elbow, spinning me to face him. I giggle in surprise, my hands landing softly against his hard chest. Slipping a finger under my chin, he tilts my head, pressing a delicate kiss to my lips before pulling back.
That’s when he leaves his mark, carving himself into my heart.
He gives my bottom a playful tap. “I’ll make us some food.”
I watch as he walks towards the fridge, in all his naked glory, and I decide that I could very easily get used to having James in my kitchen every morning.