Chapter 26 #2
He lifts up and grabs another cherry. This time, he runs it across my stomach, up and over my breasts, and then holds it above my mouth.
He nods at me, indicating he wants me to part my lips, so I do, and he crushes the tip of the cherry with his lips, causing the syrup to dribble into my mouth.
He quickly swallows and then claims my lips, the cherry flavoring mixing between us while he kicks off his pants and briefs.
My tongue swipes against his, and he grunts as he gets up on the counter as well, straddles my body, and then, to my utter shock, turns around so his erection is right at my face. His head buries between my legs. His tongue fires off over my clit, heightening my arousal once more.
So I take that moment to grip his cock and bring it to my mouth, swirling my tongue over the head.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, tensing over me.
Smiling, I gently start massaging his balls while I continue to swirl my tongue, around and around.
“Baby . . . fuck, that . . . Christ.” He rests his forehead against my leg for a second, taking a few deep breaths. “Babe, suck . . . suck me in. Take me deep.”
Wanting to please him, I do as he says and open my mouth wide, trying to take him as far as I can take him. When he hits the back of my throat, I gag, and he moans loudly.
“Shit, I’m . . . fuck, baby, do it again.”
I take a deep breath, squeeze his balls just enough, and then take him to the back of my throat, swallowing at the same time.
“Mother . . . fucker,” he growls, the sound so guttural that I repeat the motion, over and over again, causing him to stop what he’s doing and focus only on his pleasure.
And I love it.
I love it so goddamn much, that I can distract him this much with my mouth, control him to the point of him forgetting what he’s supposed to be doing. It’s so hot.
So I pump his cock with my hand, play with his balls, rolling them in my palm, and I suck . . . I suck hard, giving him the best pressure that I can. And it seems to work as his hips shift, his body tenses, and he slams his fist against the counter as he stills. “Fuck, I’m coming.”
He fills my mouth, and I swallow, taking all of him until there’s nothing left.
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters and then pulls away, hopping off the counter. When he turns to look at me, I see a crazed expression cross his features. And I know he’s about to rock my world.
He gets between my legs again, but this time, he drapes them over his shoulders, pulling me in close, and then slides two fingers inside me while he starts kissing, sucking, licking, attacking my pussy to the point that I can barely breathe.
It’s such an onslaught on my senses that all I can do is brace for impact.
“Yes, Atlas, oh God, oh God, don’t stop, right there.”
He applies more pressure and curves his fingers up, stroking me in the way that he would if he was using his cock, and it ignites the fire, setting off my orgasm and sending me into a tailspin.
“Oh fuck!” I shout. I arch off the counter while he continues to pleasure me, over and over, my body shaking, convulsing, until my orgasm finally settles and there is nothing left for me to give. “Oh God,” I mutter as I try to catch my breath.
He gently licks me clean and then rests me back down on the counter and disappears into the bathroom. I lie there, catching my breath and feeling just . . . wow.
I can guarantee I’ve never done anything like that before.
Not to mention, how did this counter hold up the both of us?
Impressive.
He comes back into the kitchen, starts wiping me down with a washcloth, and then pulls me up by the arms so I’m sitting.
“You’re all sticky. I think I have to give you a shower.”
I place my arms on his shoulders and say, “Why do I feel like that was all part of the plan?”
“Because maybe it was.” He winks and then picks me up, causing me to wrap my legs around his waist while he carries me to the bathroom and turns on the shower.
Max
“Fuck,” I cry out while I have one leg propped up on the bench in her shower, the other anchoring me to the shower tile while Betty is bent over.
Her hair is tied up in a bun on the top of her head so it doesn’t get wet, but if it wasn’t, I’d be tugging on it, pulling so she knows who fucking owns her.
Instead, I slide my hand around her neck and gently grip her while I pulse faster, harder.
“Yes, Atlas. Yes, right there,” she calls out, squeezing me so fucking tight.
“You have to come, Betty. Fucking . . . come,” I say through clenched teeth, holding back as much as I can, but the pleasure is too strong, she’s too tight, and before I can stop myself, my cock swells, and I start spilling inside her.
Thankfully, she goes over at the same time, calling out my name and contracting around my cock, prolonging my orgasm and providing me with the best feeling of my life.
It takes a few seconds for us both to come down off the high, but once we do, I slip myself out of her and then help her stand tall, keeping my hand around her throat and turning her around.
I let out a deep breath and capture her lips, kissing her for a few moments before I slide my hand down her backside and bring her in close for a hug.
“You make me come so hard,” I whisper. “Almost blacked out.”
She kisses my wet chest and then places her chin on my pec while staring up. “Same.”
She’s so fucking beautiful.
She’s sexy.
She’s funny.
She’s awkward in the best way.
The entire package, and I’m so goddamn lucky.
We finish cleaning her off and then turn off the water. I wrap her up in a towel, and then she grabs one for me from her cabinet. As we dry off, we steal glances at each other, both smiling.
I slip my boxer briefs back on, and she heads up the stairs, where she slips on an oversize T-shirt and that’s it. What I prefer.
“You know, I took time picking out my outfit for tonight.” She grabs two bowls from her cabinet. “And I wore it for, like, five minutes while you were here.”
“Which means you did a good job picking it out, because it made me want you that much sooner,” I say as I move in behind her and kiss her exposed neck while she ladles soup into the bowls.
She sets the bowls to the side and turns to me, her finger going into my chest. “Listen here, Mister Kissy. We’re going to eat this soup without any funny business, understood?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“The fun is that I worked hard on this soup, and I want to show you that I can cook. Therefore, I need you to eat it.”
I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. “I appreciate you cooking for us, and I want to respect that. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Her expression is sweet as she says, “Can you grab us drinks, and I’ll toast the bread? Do you want to eat on the couch or at the counter?”
I glance over at the counter and say, “The counter has too many memories at the moment, so couch.”
“And the couch doesn’t have memories?” she asks, a raise to her brow.
“You’re right. How do you feel about eating outside?”
“Unfavorable,” she says.
“Yeah, same. I’ll stick with couch.”
She brings the bowls over and starts toasting the baguette she got for us to dip into the soup while I fetch the drinks, going with iced tea for the both of us.
I bring the drinks over just as the bread is done toasting, and she joins me.
She takes a seat next to me, and I’d prefer for her to be on my lap, but then again, we’re eating hot soup here, so best we stick to our own areas of the couch.
I blow on a spoonful of the soup and then taste it, impressed with the flavor. Cheese, garlic, broccoli—hell, it’s really good.
“Betty, this is really fucking delicious.”
“Really?” she asks, hope in her eyes.
“Yes, really,” I answer. “Probably the best cheddar broccoli soup I’ve ever had.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
I shake my head as I eat another spoonful. “No, this shit is good.” I blow through my first bowl, taking it down with ease, not even bothering to use the bread.
She’s on her third spoonful when I get up and help myself to seconds.
She chuckles and asks, “How is your mouth not completely burned?”
“I have a metal mouth,” I say as I ladle more soup into my bowl. I walk back over to the couch, and this time, I take a little more time, allowing the flavors to dance across my tongue rather than inhaling. “How was your day?”
“It was good. I took a long walk around the property, and I noticed what you meant by having to keep your forest clean. I’ve never thought about it before, but there were a lot of broken-down trees and dead logs all over.”
“Yeah, you have to clean those out and make room for the new stuff to grow. At Evergreen, we plant and cut by section, meaning we have split the back property. Each section has a cutting year, where people come in to grab their trees; then we clean out, replant, and move on to the next section. We continue the process each year. It’s how we can continue to be kind to the land but also provide trees for our visitors. ”
“I had no idea. That’s fascinating.”
“I agree,” I say with a smile. I could talk about trees all day.
“When I was on my walk today—which, by the way, was a workout thanks to the snow—I found this little creek toward the back end of the property that I thought would be neat to have a small hiking trail to. It’s maybe half a mile, so a whole mile to and from, but we could have a few benches there or even a picnic table and make it a quiet place for couples to go. It was really peaceful.”
“That’s a really good idea. Will you show me sometime?” I ask.
“I’d love to.”
I break apart a piece of bread and dip it into my soup. “So are you going to add that to the proposal you plan on giving Dwight?”
“Yeah. I took pictures and added them to my presentation today. Not sure what kind of clearing or marking we’re going to have to do for the trail, but I think it’s a good addition to things we could offer.”
“I’d definitely go there if I was staying at your cottages. See anything else fun?”
“Just some birds. I only spotted a few, given it’s winter, but I can only imagine how many varieties there are in summer. It must be stunning. I thought about maybe putting out some bird feeders with cameras, so people can see them up close.”
“Yeah, great idea if you want to attract those murderous bears to your property,” I say with a smirk.
She pauses. “Oh, I didn’t think about that.”
“Yeah, you have to be careful around here with wildlife. We have cameras set up all around the property, and we’re always catching bears skittering across it.”
“Really?” she asks, her eyes widening.
“Yeah. Why do you think I had the crowbar?”
“I just thought you were being your dramatic self.”
“I’m dramatic for a reason,” I tease. “I know about the killer bears out there, and bird feed will bring bears to your cottages in droves. Unless you want to hand out crowbars at check-in, I’d avoid the bird feeders if I were you.”
“I mean, the crowbars might be a fun way to spark some talk about the cottages, a real social media attention grabber, and if we painted them red and white like candy canes . . . could be a novel idea.”
“And bear attacks will also bring a lot of social media attention.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, might not be the best idea.” She scoops some soup into her mouth and then says, “This is why I need someone like you, to help me sift through things like this. If it were up to me, every cabin would have a bird feeder and probably be attacked by bears nightly while my forest died a slow death from not being cleared out.”
“You can run anything by me. You know I’m here to support you.”
“I appreciate the offer.” She dabs at her face with her napkin. “Not sure how I can repay you.”
“Really?” I ask, my brow raising. “You don’t know how to repay me?”
She chuckles. “Never mind.”
“Not that you need to repay me, because you don’t, but if you ever want to show appreciation, I wouldn’t mind a repeat of the cherry cordial chemistry we had.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?”
I shrug. “Not really sure.”
“Could be a new thing. Maybe instead of a crowbar at check-in, they each get a how-to tip sheet with a box of chocolate-covered cherries. We could call it the cherry cordial sixty-nine.”
I let out a laugh. “Now that’s some solid thinking. Maybe you should change the name of the cottages from Candy Cane to Cherry Cordial.”
That gives her pause as she thinks about it. “You know, that might not be that bad of an idea.”
“Are you seriously considering it?”
She shrugs. “Why not?”
“Babe, can you imagine explaining that name to Dwight?”
“Ha,” she says. “Not really.”
I chuckle. “Not only that, but it’s a Christmas town. If you come in bringing the sex, not sure anyone will support you.”
“Not even you?” she questions playfully.
“Oh, it would be you and me on an island, but that’s an island I don’t mind floating away on.”