Chapter 18 #3
“I think I loved you since the moment I met you.”
“Okay, now you’re just sucking up,” she says, and her laughter strikes a chord in my chest, making me smile.
There’s no other way to describe the way I feel about her, and it’s incredible, but also absolutely terrifying. There have been only a few women in my life I’ve loved, but getting to know Savannah has made me realize none of them ever came close to this.
“I love you, too, John.”
The words draw my gaze up, and I don’t waste another minute, pressing my lips to hers in soft, gentle pecks that are soon not enough.
She must think the same because Savannah pulls my mouth to hers, and I push her back onto the mattress.
I reach behind my back, fisting the fabric of my shirt and pulling it over my head.
Her fingers ghost up my sides, sending a shiver down my spine, tracing over the black ink on my side.
“What is your tattoo for?”
“That’s a loaded question,” I say with a small huff, but it doesn’t seem to faze her.
Rolling to her side, I prop my head up on my elbow, and Savannah’s left hand comes back to trace over the skin again, where the three railroad spikes form a cross.
“It’s part faith, but also part…survival.
I’ve told you about my father. A good and faithful Christian on Sunday mornings, but the rest of the week, you never knew which version you were going to get.
Watching him play the role, but not live the life, turned me away from my faith for a long time.
When he kicked me out, I didn’t understand how someone—how a father—could do that.
And he told all of my friends’ parents not to help me, made up some bullshit excuse to persuade them.
It was one thing after another, and it made me hate him.
Made me hate God. But then I worked my way across the country to Texas, got a job, found a wrestling promotion that would take me, and the rest, as they say, is history.
As I got older—met more people—I realized sitting in a pew on Sunday morning, pretending to be someone else one day a week, isn’t what faith is about.
And while I’ve forgiven my father for everything that has happened, I’ll never forget it. ”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Don’t be, Sweetheart. We all have crosses to bear. This just happens to be one of mine. Maybe one day, I’ll get closure on everything, or maybe I won’t. Who knows?”
“Well, when that day comes, if it comes, I’ll be right there to help you through it.”
Savannah cradles my face in her hands and presses a gentle kiss to my lips that turns hungry when she opens her mouth in invitation.
I oblige, letting my tongue slip inside to tangle with hers in a desperate embrace.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her sweats and pull them down her legs.
She gasps when I glide my finger over her slit.
“Shit,” I hum, and part her with my fingers, watching her eyes roll into the back of her head. “You’re so fucking wet already, Sav.”
“Stop teasing,” she demands. “I’ve waited long enough.”
I stand at the edge of the bed, shoving my jeans down my legs, and her eyes lock in on my already hardened cock. “How do you want me to fuck you, baby?” I ask, stroking the head.
Savannah smirks. “Dealer’s choice.”
I wrap my arm around her waist when I climb back onto the bed, pulling her to straddle my hips.
Savannah whimpers as the head teases her entrance and rocks her hips against mine.
Bracing her palms on my chest, she digs her fingers into my pecs and leans down to kiss me.
I bite down on her bottom lip and center my cock, pushing inside her.
The anticipation is fucking brutal—it’s been entirely too long since the last time I got lost inside her.
“You okay, Sweetheart?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer verbally; instead, she slowly lowers herself until she is fully seated. She doesn’t move for a few heartbeats, adjusting to the newfound fullness.
Savannah’s body begins to move in slow waves, swallowing my dick whole with each complete cycle, and it’s heavenly.
My hands find her hips, digging into the flesh but not forcing her to move any faster.
I let her set the rhythm, set the pace, as she rocks against me.
Her back curves, her hands grasping onto my legs, and her head falls back, the ends of her long braid tickling the tops of my thighs.
“Fuck. Just like that.” I can’t contain a soft whimper from the intense pleasure when she moves at this new angle.
The view is breathtaking. She is breathtaking.
I wish this could last forever. She sits up taller, her left hand coming up to squeeze her breast. Delicate fingers tweak and pinch her nipple, and all I can think about is doing the same damn thing.
Her hands fall to the comforter on either side of my head when she leans forward.
The gentle brush of her nipples against my chest drives me fucking mad.
I squeeze the doughy flesh of her left breast, kneading it before lifting it to my mouth.
My tongue swirls over the pebbled bud of her nipple.
A soft moan ripples through her when my teeth graze it, and then I soothe it with my tongue again.
Over and over again, I draw out delicious sounds from her as she rides me.
My free hand roams her body, relearning every inch of the naturally tanned flesh I can touch, before I reach down to cup her ass.
Gripping her sides, I force her movements to quicken, force her pussy to slide up and down my dick at a brutal pace, taking in every last inch before I pull almost completely out again. She’s close—I can feel it in the way she tightens around me.
I wrap my right hand around her throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. Nothing too hard, but enough pressure to hold her still. Our lips brush, but I never allow them to close the gap, and her breath comes out in heavy gasps.
“You feel so fucking good. So perfect. Like you were made just for me.” She whimpers as I whisper the words.
And the more praise I feed into her ear, the wetter she gets, her arousal dripping down between us.
“You want to come on my cock, Savannah?” She nods, and I release her. “Then show me how bad you want it.”
Savannah sits up, but instead of intensifying her movements, it feels like she slows down.
Each roll of her body strokes every inch of my cock, and it drives me fucking wild.
She slowly guides her hand down her abdomen, reaching between her legs to finger her clit, and the response from her body is immediate.
My name falls past her lips in a soft gasp, her movements stuttering. My fingers dig into the flesh of her sides, driving her forward through her orgasm. Her walls tighten around my cock as she comes undone above me.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I roll us so I’m on top, and Savannah gasps when I push back inside her, hooking her ankles around my back.
My nerves are on fire as she moves with me, matching each thrust with her own.
“I’m close, Sweetheart,” I whisper, and she whispers the same.
Unbridled heat and ecstasy fill my veins when I pump into her one final time and crest the wave of my own orgasm.
Her head falls back, mouth open in a voiceless moan as I come inside her.
Her nails dig deeper into the skin of my shoulders, and I feel her walls clench around me at the start of another orgasm.
The feeling that follows is one that no word can truly express—euphoria, maybe?
I collapse beside her, and she leans over to kiss me, soft and leisurely.
Our mouths molding together, tongues tangled in a slow embrace meant to relish the moment, not rush it.
Her nails scrape gently across my scalp as we lie like that for a while, catching our breath and enjoying the high.
I meet her contented stare when we part, and I beg, “Say it again.”
Savannah’s thumb grazes across my lips, then traces the line of my jaw with her finger, touch as light as a feather. When she looks up to meet my gaze once again, she whispers, “I love you, John.”
The words clench my heart. That’s all I’ve wanted to hear from the moment I saw her in NextGen two years ago. Gathering her fingers in my hand, I bring the tip of each one to my lips before planting a brief kiss on her lips. “I am so glad you decided to break that rule.”