Chapter 14 #2
“You think I don’t know desperate when I feel it?
” he murmurs, voice dropping even rougher.
“Because I’ve been walking around half-hard for forty-eight fucking hours thinking about these hips.
This thick, perfect ass. Every goddamn curve on you.
” His palm kneads me possessively, squeezing like he can’t get enough.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve pictured bending you over this counter and burying my face between these thighs. ”
Heat explodes across my chest and sinks straight to my core. Years of shrinking myself, of believing the extra softness made me invisible, and here he is, voice wrecked, eyes dark with want, holding me like I’m everything he’s been starving for. “Lucky…”
“Yeah, baby?” He dips his head, nose brushing the side of my jaw, then lower, tracing the line of my exposed collarbone where the sweater slips off one shoulder. “Tell me what’s been keeping you up at night, firecracker. Be honest. Tell me exactly what you want.”
Everything. His rough hands pinning me down. That gravelly voice growling good girl in my ear over the phone at 2 a.m. The fantasy of him spreading me wide and licking me until I scream. I swallow hard. “Your mouth,” I admit, voice trembling. “Everywhere. On me. Tasting me.”
He stills for one heartbeat. Then a low, filthy growl rumbles out of his chest. “Fuck yes. That’s my girl.”
His lips find the sensitive skin just below my ear, open-mouthed, slow drag of tongue, lightest scrape of teeth. My knees threaten to give out. I grab fistfuls of his T-shirt as he works down my throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, then soothing it with a slow lick.
His free hand slips under the hem of my sweater, rough palm gliding up the bare curve of my side, fingers spreading wide to grip the soft roll of my waist, then higher.
When his thumb brushes the heavy underside of my breast, no bra, just full, warm skin, he groans against my neck like he’s in pain.
“Jesus fucking Christ, no bra?” His voice is wrecked.
“These tits are gonna be the death of me.” He cups one fully, palm overflowing with the weight, thumb circling my nipple until it’s tight and aching.
“Been dying to get my mouth on them. To suck these pretty nipples until you’re dripping down your thighs. ”
Pleasure spears straight between my legs. I arch into his hand, my soft belly pressing against his hard abs, chasing more.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes molten, pupils blown wide. “You want my mouth here too, don’t you? Want me to suck on these fat tits until you’re begging?”
I nod, frantic.
“Words, sweetheart. Use that pretty mouth.”
“Yes,” I gasp. “Please, Lucky...please.”
That’s all it takes. He yanks the sweater over my head, tosses it somewhere behind him. Cool air hits my bare skin; my full breasts sway with the movement, nipples already hard under his hungry stare. He looks at me like I’m a feast and he’s been fasting for weeks.
Then he drops to his knees right there on my kitchen floor.
My hands fly to his shoulders as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my leggings and peels them down slowly, agonizingly slowly, along with my underwear.
He takes his time, eyes tracing every revealed inch, the soft swell of my belly, the generous flare of my hips, the thick plush of my thighs.
When the fabric pools at my ankles, he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of one thigh, then the other, hands gripping my ass, kneading the fullness there, spreading me just enough.
“Goddamn, look at this pussy,” he mutters, voice thick with reverence and filth. “So fucking pretty. So wet for me already.” He spreads me wider with his thumbs, exposing me completely. “Been thinking about this cunt for days. How sweet you’d taste. How you’d drip all over my tongue.”
He looks up at me through dark lashes. “Spread wider for me, baby. Let me see all of you.”
I do, one foot sliding further, shaky and exposed.
“Good fucking girl.”
Then his tongue, flat, slow, deliberate, licks a long, filthy swipe up my center.
My head falls back against the cabinets with a thud. “Oh god...”
He groans like I’m the best thing he’s ever put in his mouth, the sound vibrating straight through my clit.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he rasps against me.
“Sweet little pussy. Been starving for this.” Lazy, thorough strokes that make my hips jerk.
When he circles my clit I cry out, fingers twisting in his hair.
He sucks gently, then flicks fast, then slow laps that have me grinding shamelessly against his face.
Two thick fingers slide inside me, curling just right, while his tongue stays relentless. “So tight,” he growls between licks. “Gonna feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock later. But first I’m gonna make this pretty cunt come all over my face.”
Pressure coils fast. My thighs tremble around his head. My breathing turns ragged.
“Lucky…I’m gonna…”
“Do it,” he commands, voice muffled against me. “Come on my tongue, firecracker. Drench me. Let me taste how much you fucking missed me.”
That’s it. I come hard, hips bucking, a broken moan tearing out as waves crash through me. He doesn’t stop, he keeps licking softer, slower, lapping up every drop until I’m whimpering and oversensitive, trying to push his head away with trembling hands.
He rises slowly, kissing his way back up my soft belly, full breasts pausing to suck one nipple deep into his mouth with a hungry groan, collarbone until he’s standing again. His mouth crashes into mine. I taste myself on his tongue and moan into the kiss, greedy.
His hands grip my ass again, lifting, kneading. “You’re so fucking wet,” he mutters against my lips. “Gonna slide right in.”
I fumble with his belt until he helps, shoving jeans and boxers down just enough. He’s thick, hard, leaking against the soft curve of my stomach. I wrap my fingers around him, stroking. He hisses, forehead dropping to mine.
“Bedroom,” he grits out. “Now. Or I’m fucking this perfect pussy right here on the counter.”
I nod.
He scoops me up, effortless, like my curves are made to fit against him, and carries me down the hall, my legs wrapped around his waist, my soft body pressed tight to his hard one.
He drops me onto the bed, follows me down. Kicks off the rest of his clothes. Settles between my thighs, weight pressing me deliciously into the mattress. His cock notches at my entrance, as he slides between my wet lips. Over and over he thrusts between my pussy lips, but never where I need him.
“Look at me,” he says, voice wrecked.
I do.
He reaches for his jeans and grabs a condom from his pocket, tears it open with his teeth, rolls it on quick and sure. “Still good?” he asks, eyes searching mine.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “Please. I need you inside me.”
He pushes in slowly, inch by careful inch, stretching me, filling me. It’s been years and I’m tight, unused, and he’s so big and thick. My breath catches.
He stills halfway. “Breathe, baby. You’re doing so good. Taking me so fucking well.”
I nod, nails digging into his shoulders. “Keep going. I want all of you.”
He exhales roughly, pushes the rest of the way in until he’s seated deep, hips flush to the plush give of mine. We both groan.
“Fuck,” he rasps, forehead to mine. “This pussy… so tight. So hot. You feel like fucking heaven wrapped around my cock.” His hands roam, gripping my hips, sliding up to cup my breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples.
“Been dying to be buried in you like this. To feel every soft inch of you shaking under me.”
He starts to move, slow, deep rolls that drag against every sensitive spot. My legs hook around his hips, heels digging in, urging him faster.
He gives it to me. Pace building, harder, deeper, skin slapping, bed creaking.
One hand pins mine above my head and the other slips between us, thumb circling my clit.
“You feel that?” he growls. “How deep I am? How fucking wet you are for me? This pussy’s gripping me so tight, baby. Gonna milk every drop out of me.”
I’m climbing fast again. “Lucky…I’m so close.”
“Yeah,” he rasps, pace turning brutal. “Come on my cock, firecracker. Squeeze me. Let me feel this perfect cunt come all over me again.”
I shatter, crying his name, walls pulsing tight around him. He swears roughly, thrusts erratic, once, twice, then buries deep and comes with a guttural groan, pulsing inside the condom, hips jerking against mine.
We stay locked together, panting, sweat-slick and trembling, the sheets tangled around our legs and the room heavy with the scent of us.
His cock is still buried deep inside me. He presses lazy, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, then my temple, then the tip of my nose, soft, reverent, like he’s savoring the taste of my skin after everything we just did. “Missed you too,” he whispers, voice raw and wrecked in the best way.
I laugh weakly, completely boneless, blissed out and floating in the cradle of his arms. “Two days is way too long.”
He chuckles low in his chest, the sound vibrating through me where our bodies are still pressed so close.
With careful, gentle movements he starts to ease out of me, both of us hissing softly at the sudden emptiness.
His hands stay on my hips, steadying me as he sits back on his heels between my spread thighs.
“Gotta take care of this,” he murmurs, glancing down at the condom still sheathing him. “Don’t move, firecracker. Stay right here, all pretty and flushed for me.”
I nod, too blissed to argue, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes as he slides off the bed.
He stands and pads barefoot across the bedroom toward the attached bathroom.
The sight of him walking away naked, confident, cock still thick and heavy even after coming, sends a fresh pulse of need through me despite how thoroughly he just unraveled me.
I hear the faint sound of the faucet running, the soft crinkle of the trash can liner, then he’s back already hardening again, or close enough that his length sways with each step.
His eyes rake over me sprawled across the sheets, my legs still parted, skin flushed, curves soft and glowing in the low lamplight filtering through the curtains.
He drops to one knee on the edge of the mattress, reaching for the soft throw blanket folded at the foot of the bed. He shakes it out and drapes it over my bare skin, tucking it around my hips and breasts with surprising tenderness before stretching out beside me and pulling me half on top of him.
His arms wrap tight around every generous curve, possessive, warm, one big hand splaying wide over the plush swell of my lower back, fingers tracing idle patterns along my spine, the other threading through my hair to cradle the back of my head against his chest.
“Never fucking again,” he murmurs against my temple, lips brushing my skin. “Two days without touching you, without tasting you, without being inside this perfect pussy… that was torture. Next time I stay all night. And every night after that you’ll let me.”
I trace lazy circles over his chest with my fingertip, already drifting toward sleep in the warm cocoon of his body heat and the familiar scent of leather and smoke that clings to him even now. “Promise?”
“Swear it, baby.” His hold tightens, fingers flexing against my softness like he’s afraid I’ll slip away if he lets go. “You’re mine now. All of you. Every soft, thick, gorgeous inch.”
I smile against his chest, listening to the steady, strong thud of his heart under my ear.
The bedroom feels different tonight, warmer, smaller, fuller.
The sheets are a mess, the pillows knocked askew, but none of it matters.
His arms are around me, his breath evening out against my hair, and for the first time in years the quiet doesn’t feel empty.
It feels safe and I don’t ever want to be anywhere else.