Chapter 8 #2
“Caldwell—” Her hand tightens in my hair. When she says my name, all breathy and filled with need, I almost come right then, but I force it back. Not until I’m inside of her. I don’t care if it kills me.
“I’ve got you, beautiful,” I murmur against her hip, kissing her there too. “I need to taste you. I need you ready for me.”
She makes a small sound, half protest, half plea. I settle between her thighs, my shoulders spreading them wider, and look up at her one last time. Her face is flushed, her eyes dark with need. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful, and I’ve been all over this world.
I lower my mouth to her, and she cries out, her back arching off the bed. She’s so damn responsive, like a hair trigger, and I listen to every sound she makes, every shift of her hips, reading her body.
She’s sweet and wet and damn perfect. I groan against her, the vibration making her whimper my name.
I take my time, making slow circles that make her breath hitch, the firmer pressure that has her gripping the sheets, and the way she trembles when I slide a finger inside her while my tongue works her.
“Please,” she gasps, her hips rocking against my mouth. “Wells, please—”
I feel her building, her pussy tightening around my finger, and her thighs trembling. I don’t let up; in fact, I push her harder, curling my finger to find the spot that makes her cry out my name. She comes apart against my mouth, and I greedily drink in her pleasure. I don’t let up.
I don’t give her time to recover. I keep my mouth on her, gentling my touch but not stopping, working her back up while she’s still sensitive, still shaking. She tries to squirm away, but I hold her hips firm, my tongue relentless, my fingers moving again, building that pressure all over.
“Too much,” she pants, her hands pushing at my shoulders even as her hips betray her, rocking into my touch. “I can’t—”
“You will,” I growl against her, feeling her body respond even as she protests. “Give me another one, Mable. Let go for me.”
She’s close, so close I can feel her thighs tensing, her breath coming in short gasps. Right there, hovering on the edge, her eyes glazed and unfocused. Exactly where I want her.
I rise up over her, positioning myself at her entrance, and thrust inside in one smooth motion. I somehow manage to remain still. I swear it’s an act of God because the urge to rut inside of her and mark her with my cum is pushing down hard on me.
She cries out, her body tightening around me, and I feel her second orgasm crash over her even as I fill her completely. The pleasure of it masks the brief resistance, the moment of pain that flashes across her face before melting into something else entirely.
“That’s it,” I grit out, letting her ride it out around me, her body adjusting. I pray I did this right. I might have googled a couple things, worried about hurting her. “Give me your eyes.” She blinks a few times, and they come to meet mine. “Are you with me, gorgeous?”
“Yes,” she gasps, her nails digging into my back, her pussy fluttering around my cock, tempting me to come already. I fight it back. Mable licks her lips, her body relaxing more. “Wells—”
She’s ready. I start to move, slow and deep, each thrust drawing out her pleasure. She’s so tight, and the way she looks up at me—like I’m the only thing in her world—is going to be my undoing.
“You good?” I manage, my voice barely human, my control hanging by a thread, but I need her to be good, real fucking good.
“Yes,” she breathes, her legs wrapping around me, pulling me deeper. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
Nothing could stop me right now. I would sign over a whole kingdom just to have her.
I set a rhythm that builds gradually, each thrust deliberate, watching her face for every reaction.
She’s still sensitive, still trembling from coming twice, and I can feel her building again, feel her body responding to mine. The way we fit together is just right.
“Keep those eyes on me,” I command, needing that connection. I need to see her fall apart one more time with me inside her. “Mable.”
“I’m here,” she breathes, her eyes hazy with pleasure. “I’m right here.”
I shift my angle, grinding against her with each thrust, and her cry tells me I’ve found the right spot. I keep that rhythm, relentless now, driving her higher, feeling her tighten around me again.
“Come with me,” I growl, my own release building at the base of my spine, my balls drawing up tight. “One more time, sweetheart. Give me one more.”
And my sweet girl does. I watch her break apart beneath me, her body arching off the bed, her orgasm ripping through her. I follow her over the edge, my release tearing through me with a force that has black spots forming in my eyes. I spill my release deep inside of her, spending every last drop.
The thought of what that means has me going off again, and I keep coming until there is nothing left. I’m burying my face in her neck, sucking in deep breaths, but I don’t move, barely holding myself up enough so that I don’t crush her tiny body under my weight.
When I’m on top of her, she’s so small and delicate. I’m easily twice her size, pushing three.
We lie tangled together, sweat-slicked and breathless. I roll to my side, pulling her with me, not willing to break the connection yet. She settles against my chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin.
“That was...” she starts, then trails off, apparently unable to find words. Neither can I.
“Yeah,” I agree, pressing a kiss to her hair. “It was.” This pressure I didn’t know was weighing me down releases, and it feels like my mind truly clears for the first time; my priorities are starting to shift.
I tilt her chin up, looking into her eyes. “Tell me you’re okay. Did I hurt you?”
She shakes her head, a small smile playing at her lips. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”
I kiss her then, soft and slow, tasting the truth of it on her lips. She’s mine, in every way that matters. And I’m never letting her go.