Chapter 14 #2
He didn’t touch my arm again, but I was pretty sure that I wasn’t getting my orgasm until I came out and looked him in the face.
I could tell by the way he kept his rocking stimulating enough to drive me to the edge, but not stimulating enough to bring me over.
I could tell by the way he’d started making subvocal sounds that I couldn’t hear in the usual way of hearing, but that I definitely felt, pattering over my skin. I could tell by the way he was staring.
I reached up with my free hand and attempted to push his face away and redirect his eyes. I got a sharp nip to my fingertips for my trouble.
I jolted but didn’t move my arm.
Instead, I did my best to work back against him. His abs were as insane as you’d imagine the abs were on someone whose diet was more than likely pure protein and who did nothing but swim all day long. They felt spectacular against my dick.
He wasn’t the only one with abs. I had some of my own.
Although they weren’t anything to brag about and I’d never felt the need to immortalise them in a mirror selfie, they were good enough to let me flex back against him and get some of that wonderful heat and friction working the length of my shaft.
His body shook a little. He was laughing at me. Didn’t care. Nearly there. Nearly—
Dave lifted his body up, easing the pressure.
“Get back down here right now,” I snarled, and hooked both legs around him. “Hah!” I locked my ankles. He unhooked them and pressed them to the sofa. “Goddammit!” I pushed my hips high and into a bridge. If I could just…
Dave chuffed and kept himself out of reach.
Okay, that was it. I lunged at him, got a leg around him and wrestled him around. He rolled me easily, and the next thing I knew I was astride his thighs, hands planted on his firm pecs, and he was gazing up at me.
“Joe,” he said.
I fell on him, lips first.
Our mouths clashed in a messy, desperate kiss. He grabbed my arse. I grabbed his hips. The sofa beneath us groaned uneasily as he drove up and I drove down and the pressure and the friction and the heat was good. It was good. It was—
I came with a shocked gasp. I gasped again when he held me even closer, tighter, and moaned into my mouth as he joined in.
In general, Dave came about three or four times to my every one.
I won’t lie. It made me feel like some sort of irresistible sex god.
So I’d expected a break of half a minute or so for him to catch his breath and then he’d be off again, while I lounged about and enjoyed the show until I could get another erection, and then we’d both be off.
That wasn’t what happened.
He heaved a gusty sigh and he sea-ottered me.
His arms wrapped around me at shoulders and hips, and he held me tight. I had barely enough room to breathe.
It was perfect.
“I missed you,” I said into the quiet. My head was resting on his chest, and I turned to press my ear over his heart. I listened to the steady, sturdy wallop of it, and smiled. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
He grunted something and cupped the back of my head, pushing his fingers into my dishevelled sex-hair and gripping it.
“You realise of course that this has been my nightmare all along?” I said. “Losing you?”
I traced a nasty scar along his flank, watching my fingertip drift along the angry pink line.
“What am I going to do, Dave? I don’t want to spend every six months that you’re away from me worrying about you fighting giant squid.
Or fighting anything.” I propped my chin on his chest and gazed at his face.
It wasn’t a flattering angle. I mostly saw up his nose. His beautiful, beloved nose.
“Dave.” He was staring up at the ceiling. Mindful of where his bruises had been, I selected an area carefully before I pinched him. He took hold of my hand, lifted it to his mouth, kissed the palm, and set it over his heart.
Yeah. That was all there was to say. For now, anyway.
Because while his hand-kissing action was sweet, what he was doing a little further south was not so sweet. It had started slowly with a few small hitches of his hips, and had smoothed out into a gentle, rhythmic roll.
I pushed myself up onto my elbows and looked into his face, then down at where our pelvises were pressed together. Make that stuck together. I wiggled experimentally. Oh, would you look at that? My dick had something to say about it after all.
I was astonished. I didn’t think I’d ever recovered that fast in my life.
Dave raised his eyebrows and flexed up into me.
I rocked with him a few times, holding his gaze, and then slowly peeled myself off him and shuffled about to straddle him.
I pretended that I was going to settle on top of the dick he was helpfully holding steady for me, and at the last minute, I threw myself off the sofa and bolted for the bedroom.
He snarled and came after me, making the floorboards creak and groan.
I made it to the stairs and laughed breathlessly as I lunged up them, two at a time.
He made fake-threatening noises behind me and his fingertips brushed down my spine, over my arse, glanced off my thighs.
He was faster than me. If he’d wanted to, he’d have snatched me up before I even hit the bottom step.
Reaching the top of the stairs, I rushed for my bedroom. I was halfway across the room when he shoved his hands under my armpits from behind, lifted me off my feet mid-run, and threw me at the bed face-first.
I hit the mattress with a thump and squawked when he landed on top.
He gnawed lightly on the back of my neck while he went right for my hole, stroking over it with demand. He circled it all of twice before slipping a finger in.
I yelped at the sting of it and he stilled.
“Lubricant,” I reminded him.
He patted my arse in apology and crushed the air clean out of me as he reached over for the bedside table.
I whooped in a breath when he lifted his weight off. It came back out in a long, slutty moan. Dave had been baffled by my need for a little something to ease the way before he shoved his dick in there, but he was a champion at it by now. When he didn’t forget.
The only complaint I had was that sometimes he went overboard. I suppose it made sense. He was a merman. He liked it wet.
I grabbed a pillow and held on as he returned to my hole and set about preparing me. Thankfully, he wasn’t in the mood to prolong things and get me squirming. Mostly because I was squirming already.
My hips moved restlessly against the covers and my legs were about as open as I could get them. I dragged my knees up and under me a little to give him better access to my arse.
He lifted his upper body off me and made an admiring sound as he held the sides of my buttocks, squeezing them together and lifting them. He kissed the base of my spine and dragged his hot mouth over the curve of first one cheek and then the other. I started to shake.
He slid his mouth teasingly in a line over the top of my arse, from one side to the other. He moved an inch lower and did it again. Again. Again.
I reached behind me and tangled my fingers in his hair, right as he separated my cheeks and—
And nothing.
“Dave,” I said. “What are you doing?”
He still didn’t do anything.
I let go of his hair to push up onto my elbows and crane my head back to see what the problem was.
He’d been waiting for it, the bastard.
As soon as we made eye contact, he ducked down and dragged his tongue from my balls to my spine. Hot, wet, and demanding.
“Oh my god,” I whispered faintly.
He grinned and then, still holding my gaze, poked a finger right up my bum.
I jerked forward, startled, and burst out laughing. It didn’t last long. He withdrew his finger, went back in with two, and then he was the one laughing—very smugly—when I gasped and whined and pushed back into it.
I was tight and the stretch was intense. Usually at this time of year, he’d been back and shagging me senseless for weeks. Even though he had a giant cock, I could take him with only a little bit of prep.
I wasn’t there yet.
Dave laid his body slowly back on mine, pressing me down and holding me there as he got a hand between us and worked my butthole like the pro he was.
There was circling. Some scissoring. A few rapid, hard pumps followed by some slow ones, to make me start hissing and demanding that he get the fuck on with it. There were a few sly nudges of my prostate, followed by some firm gliding strokes.
At that point, both of us were making a racket. I was begging and pleading. He was teasing and moaning. At this rate, they’d hear us all the way over in Lynwick, and he hadn’t even—
He drew his fingers out, his hips back, and he filled me in one long, uncompromising thrust.
I sobbed.
It wasn’t quite the sexy, encouraging, Yeah, baby, I’d intended. It just ripped out of me. It was honest and raw and I couldn’t take it back.
I wouldn’t have, even if I could.
We didn’t speak to each other in words, but that didn’t mean we didn’t communicate. Before Dave, I hadn’t been a particularly physical man. I certainly hadn’t been tactile. I’d learned, though, and we were building a language between us. Our own language.
If anyone else had heard that aching, heartbroken, godawful wail right after they’d entered me, they’d have immediately exited first me and then the room, at top speed.
Not Dave.
He knew what it meant, what I’d said without meaning to.
He knew that I hadn’t meant to release it in the first place.
He held me tighter, dragged his hips back, and lunged back into me.
He echoed the sound I’d made. He softened it and made it sound like a promise as he rocked into me with powerful, claiming strokes.
You’re mine.
I’m here.
We’re together. We’re together. We’re together.
I hardly even noticed when I came. The pulses of ecstasy that lit up my pelvis throbbed in perfect, flawless sync with Dave’s rolling thrusts. He went on and on and on until he pushed deep and held there.
To my surprise, as soon as he’d finished coming he pulled straight out and flipped me over. It was disorienting, to go from being pinned and filled to suddenly being face up and exposed.
I wasn’t exposed for long.
Dave dragged the duvet, the pillows and the sheet about as he made one of his nests.
Once it was all arranged to his exacting specifications—although to me it simply read as a big messy knot of bedding—he pushed me into the middle of it.
He rolled me onto my side, locked his arms around me, shoved a thigh between mine, and groaned with satisfaction.
We lay together, interlocked. Breathing. Hearts thundering.
I stared at his beautiful face. “You’re worth it,” I told him. “You’re worth it all. I want you to know that.”
He grunted low in his throat.
Resting a hand at the centre of his chest, I said, “Keep coming back to me, Dave. Okay?”
He laid his hand on top of mine and pulled me in for a slow, sweet kiss.