Chapter 6 #2
Allie came back to herself more quickly than before, and within a few minutes, she was no longer weeping or trying to hide. Her arms slid around his neck, and she sighed, pulling her head back to look at him. Her eyes were still a little pink from crying but not at all sad.
“How are you?” he asked then winced. A hell of a question and probably the wrong one.
She rested her forehead against his for a moment. “Embarrassed mostly.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t just burst into tears after the orgasm of a lifetime.”
Her words poured over him like warm honey. Then she moved against him, and he remembered she was still naked in his arms. Combined, those elements were enough to wake his cock from its deflated state. Oh yeah, you’re still here.
However, nothing else would be happening between them, not when she was still emotional, so he did his best to ignore it. “How about that breakfast?” he asked before brushing his lips comfortingly across her damp, salty cheek.
That earned him a confused look that then melted into a knowing one. “I’m done crying,” Allie informed him with an oh, honey air. “It was a kind of depressurization, I think. Nothing like what happened yesterday. Just an old-fashioned, necessary release.”
That was good, he guessed. “Okay.” He rubbed his hands in circles on the soft skin of her back. “I mean, I want to make sure you’re okay.” That was maybe the understatement of the century, but it was all he could think to say.
She sighed dramatically. “And I mean”—she reached down between them to rub a rather proprietary hand across his cloth-covered erection—“I’m ready for more.”
He squeaked a little when she increased the friction on his aching length. Actually squeaked. He’d have died of shame if he weren’t about to combust from the zero-to-sixty sexual reignition. “Orgasm of a lifetime, huh?”
She chuckled and kissed him gently, teasingly, making him ache for her.
He moved his hands clumsily, desperately, across her breasts and belly, using his hips to nudge against her with little finesse.
He buried his face in her neck, willing himself to calm down, but his body, racked with need triggered by her pleasure, trembled on a precipice.
His angel saved him once again, rising up to give him a gentle kiss and then easing his pants and underwear down and off his trembling legs. She stroked his thighs gently, much as he’d done for her, he dimly recognized. When her hands slid upward and found the softness of his scrotum, he groaned.
“Don’t worry,” Allie said, her voice husky. “I’m driving now.”
The tip of her tongue fluttered over the head of his cock.
He sank into a kind of dream state—it was the only way he could think of it—in which his world narrowed to Allie’s hands and mouth and the sweetly carnal torture they inflicted.
She kept him on that edge and soon had him bucking and cursing and moaning, but she did not let him come.
Finally, he gathered the scraps of his self-control and gasped, “Please let me inside you.”
She rose up on her knees, the dim light of the hallway from the open door behind her making a sort of glowing halo around her head. Angel, indeed. He wanted her more than he’d wanted anything in his life, and the smile playing on her swollen lips told him she knew it.
Maybe “succubus” was more accurate.
He sat up, pulling her to him, and took her mouth with his own, making demands with his tongue and hands.
She met them eagerly, if a little awkwardly—this was not the right angle for them—before she crawled away and went to the cabinet.
They both fumbled with the packing tape on the massive box while they tried to open it, Cam cursing the entire time.
When he called it a “fucking nightmare shitbox,” Allie got the giggles, and he had to stop to kiss her again. He’d made her laugh, really laugh, and the sound was deep and goofy and musical. Everything he wanted.
Finally, they managed to get into the shitbox and retrieve a condom.
They got back into bed, warm and naked together.
Allie writhed and wriggled against him, catching his earlobe in her teeth as he groaned and fumbled the latex sheath onto his cock—was there any way to put on a condom that didn’t feel awkward?
—until finally it was done, and he lay down, pulling Allie on top of him.
She lowered herself over his hips, her lovely brown eyes closing as she took his whole length into her with a delighted sound. His breath caught at the pleasure from the snug clasp of her body and the picture she made with her head back and breasts thrust forward.
Then she began to move.
Cam’s hands found her breasts, and his hips moved up again and again.
He soon lost himself in the sheer rightness of their bodies coming together.
He had a vague sense that he’d begun urging her on with words, praising her, begging her to go faster, and telling her how hard she would come.
He thrust up into her, meeting her rhythm with his own, and she rode him until she cried out, shaking with the force of her orgasm, her fingers digging into the skin of his stomach, her eyes unfocused.
“Yes, baby, that’s it. Fuck.” He gripped her hips, rolling them over so he was on top.
She lay boneless and blissed-out beneath him on the bed as he braced himself on his knees.
He lifted her hips and pumped into her hard and fast, chasing his own orgasm in her warm wetness.
With her cries of pleasure ringing in his ears, he followed her over the edge, groaning and shuddering and thankful.