94. Bailey
ninety-four
Bailey
We dry off on unsteady legs and I go find clean underwear for both of us.
He’s glaring at me, arms crossed when I enter the bathroom, briefs in hand. “What?” I ask, brows furrowed.
“Glasses,” he says, pointing to his own face in case I’ve forgotten the meaning of the word.
I laugh then grab them off the counter. Before placing them on, I watch him for a beat until I have his attention. I clear my throat, “Ah-hem.”
He looks at me expectantly..
“Wings,” I say, motioning to my back like he did my glasses.
“Now?” He says, brows raised.
“Absofuckinglutely,” I reply.
He laughs and shakes his head, “Okay, but this means neither of us puts another item of clothing on. This is it,” he says, waving his hand between us.
“Oh,” I say, stomach twisting in the best way.
I smile as I hear his footfalls behind me, following me to the living room. “You thirsty?”
“What kind of thirsty we talkin’ about? Because, that ass…” His voice trails off as he catches up to me, wrapping his arms around my waist before planting a loud kiss on the top of my head.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask, side-eyeing him the best I can manage.
“I’d like ice water, please,” he says with a grin. “None of that weird fizzy shit that tastes like a broken television,” he adds.
“Do fucking what?” I stop in my tracks, looking at him like he’s lost his damn mind. Because he has, clearly. Fizzy waters are the shit.
“Those things taste the way one might assume a busted up TV would taste if you stuck your tongue to it,” he explains.
I laugh, “You’re exaggerating.”
“Am the fuck not,” he insists.
I kiss him, unable to resist him in those fucking wings. If there’s a God, I’d like to thank her personally for this.
He pulls away, “I thought you were getting me a drink,” he says, brows furrowed in faux confusion.
“Ass.”
I hand him the remote before heading to the kitchen to get my TV water and find a cup for his.
He’s lounging in my favorite chair flipping through Netflix when I come back, thick thighs on display. I can’t help but stare as I hand him his drink.
“Thanks,” he says with a sly smile, letting his eyes roam over me again, as if he missed anything earlier.
“Welcome,” I say before turning to head for the couch.
He catches my wrist, “Where do you think you’re going?”
I swallow, my dick really liking his tone. I turn to face him, “I was heading to the couch, but it seems you had something else in mind?”
He keeps my wrist in his warm grasp as he takes a drink of water, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, not once breaking eye contact.
My stomach twists under the intensity of his gaze. Holy mother of fuck, he is so sexy.
He places his drink on the table and gently pulls me toward him. “I did, in fact, have something else in mind,” he says.
I move toward him, uncertain where he wants me.
He brings his thick thighs together and pats the cushion on either side of them, “Knees here,” he coaxes.
My breaths come faster as I straddle him, taking a seat in his lap, then looking to him for approval.
“That’s it,” he praises. “That’s exactly where I want you, green eyes.”
My heart gallops behind my rib cage as he brings a warm hand to my face.
“I meant it when I said I want you to myself, Bailey,” he says gently. His eyes darting between my own. “I don’t want to share you.”
“I don’t want to share you either,” I admit, leaning into his touch. The thought of him with someone else sends a wave of fury through my entire body and I shiver.
“You cold?” He asks, forehead lined with concern.
“No,” I reply. “I think that was jealousy,” I admit.
He laughs. “Jealousy looks good on you, baby,” he says before placing a gentle kiss on my lips.
God, I love the sound of that. Possessive and gentle at the same time. Baby.
I break our kiss to look at him, his brilliant eyes looking up to meet mine. “Lolly,” I say, not exactly sure where I’m going with this, but certain I have something to tell him.
“Bailey,” he echoes, a smile tugging at his lips as he watches me with those beautiful eyes.
“I don’t want to miss another sunset,” I say quietly. “I don’t want to find myself wondering what my life could have been—what it might look like in a world…” My voice catches as pressure builds behind my eyes.
His thumb caresses my cheek, as if he’s lending me courage to continue.
“I want to live in a world in which I’m brave enough to tell you I love you,” I say as a single tear falls down my face. I sit quietly, watching him as he takes in the words I’ve been holding onto for so long.
His eyes soften, a quiet smile forms on his lips as he places his other hand behind my back, holding me, steadying me. “And I want to live in a world in which I’m able to say, I love you, too.”
“Fuck, angel,” I say through fresh tears, “I love you so much.” I find his lips again, tasting the salt of my tears as he kisses me back. The warmth of his hands on my skin feels like home—like everything I’ll ever need, despite everything I’ve done.
I moan into his mouth, loving the taste of him. That perfect mix of everything he is. Strong and warm, sensitive and sweet. Brilliant and kind. I fucking love him. I’m in love with him. And nothing has ever felt more right than he does in my arms, in this moment.
Heat courses through my blood stream as I think of all the ways in which I love him. Why I love him, how I love him. It’s overwhelming, incinerating—euphoric. I pull his bottom lip into my mouth, scraping my teeth across it, eliciting a small groan from him. It’s everything.
My dick is pressing at the fabric of my briefs, begging for relief. I rock against him and we both groan in satisfaction as my dick brushes his. Without breaking our kiss, I raise up enough for him to pull my underwear down my legs before doing the same with his.
“Mmhm,” I moan as his skin touches mine.
His velvety hard length against mine sends heat soaring up my spine, nestling in my chest. I need him.
I need him as desperately as I needed to say those three words.
I need him more than I need safety or a sense of ease and comfort because he is better than all of those things.
“Fuck, Lolly,” I groan into his kiss, my hands running over his shoulders. He’s so fucking big. So goddamn sexy.
My dick throbs, leaking precum onto his abdomen.
He looks down between us, mouth parted as he watches our dicks slide against each other. The perfect balance of light and dark, of joy and pain.
His eyes meet mine again before he pulls me closer, picking up where we left off, his perfect lips caressing mine as our tongues delve into each other's mouths.
Searching for and finding everything we need.
His warm hand leaves my back and I feel its absence immediately, but then I hear the click of a lid and look down to watch.
His large hand works lube over his thick length.
My mouth waters and my heart rate picks up at the sight.
He kisses me again and then gently lifts my ass before lining himself up against my entrance.
I shudder with anticipation. A thrill coursing through me as I take him in. He owns me. This beautiful man, those fucking wings. My lungs are barely cooperating as I try to slow my breathing before slowly lowering myself to meet him.
I moan as he enters me, his thick crown stretching me. The feeling is exquisite.
I take in a few more inches of him, gasping as he stretches me, filling me.
“Fuck, Lolly,” I moan as I’m finally fully seated, his thighs flush against my ass, my hard length brushing between us.
“You okay?” He asks, pulling back to meet my eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fucking more than okay,” I say with a grin.
“Good,” he says. “Hold on to me, baby.”
I grip his biceps as he gently lifts my ass, before sliding me back down again. The feeling is beyond comprehension. I’m so fucking full. My heart, my fucking ass. Everything. “Holy shit,” I hiss.
“You’re doing so perfect,” he says. “I want you to ride me, Bailey,” he says against my neck. “Take this big dick. Take everything I have to offer, and make it yours.”
I whimper, falling apart under his words, and then I begin to move.
He groans as I work my way up his length and then grind back down again, slowly at first, but then I pick up speed. It’s unfathomable. So fucking perfect. I’m spilling precum all over his abs, my dick sliding between us with every flick of my hips.
“Just like that,” he growls. “Don’t stop.”
I mewl, absolutely melting at his words while a hidden flame ignites within me, driving me up and down his perfect fucking dick like a mad man.
He pulls me down to him, kissing me breathless before grabbing my ass and holding me in place. I let out a loud moan when he slams up into me, our teeth knock with the impact and I don’t give a flying fuck. He fucks up into me, his balls slapping mine in the filthiest way and I love it.
“Fuck, baby. Fuck, yes. I fucking love it,” I mumble, uncertain if I’m speaking or just making noise at this point. I throw my head back and pull in a deep breath.
His pace increases and he fucks into me even harder than before.
Unforgiving slams of his hips against my ass have me careening toward the brink.
I see fucking stars. My balls pull up tight, a white hot bolt of desire crests through me like a wave, building in my loins and catapulting up my spine.
Sweat drips down my neck as I hold onto him for dear life.
I can’t see, can’t speak, can’t move. All I can do is fucking moan and pant and whimper oh my fucking god.
“Come for me, Bailey.” he pants. “I love you so,” thrust, “fucking,” thrust, “much.”
My entire being is nothing but colors and sounds and pleasure as I am rocketed into an orgasm so stupifying I don’t know up from down. My dick shoots ribbons of cum, more and more with each thrust of his hips. I’m watching it happen but can’t believe it’s me that’s so goddamn lucky.
I lift my gaze to meet his and he locks in, pupils dilated, lips parted, heavy breaths and soft moans escaping those pillowy lips as he chases his pleasure. It’s dizzying. Breathtaking. Beautiful.
“Come inside me, angel,” I moan.
He trembles beneath me, his grip around me tightening as he fucks up into me harder, his rhythm faltering as he reaches the edge.
“Fuck,” he growls.
His thick length pulses inside me and warmth fills me as he lets go. It’s the perfect medicine, his and mine. Mine and his. Ours.
We kiss ourselves back down from oblivion, neither of us letting go of the other.
“I love you,” I whisper against his lips.
“I love you, too,” he echoes.
And I know, just as sure as the sun will set again tomorrow, that he’s my forever.