Chapter 27 Dave #2
My cock pulses. Suddenly the need to be as deep as possible takes over.
Flipping her back over, I pull her hips to meet mine, thrusting forcefully into her.
Holding myself steady, I try to relish the sensation while it lasts.
I lightly dance my fingertips through her hair and down the silky, smooth skin along her spine several times while my dick sits nestled inside her tight heat.
My gaze falls to where we are joined and my head lulls back in hedonistic bliss.
I can tell my resolve is waning as I start to unconsciously rut into her, groaning out my pleasure.
Curling an arm around her, I start to tease her swollen clit as I growl into her ear. “I’m going to have to get a little rough with you, baby.” I pant. “I’ve been hard for so fucking long, thinking about coming inside your sweet pussy.”
“Oh, please,” she cries out, giving me the green light to let go. “God, I’ve missed that dirty mouth. Almost as much as your magical dick.”
I almost chuckle, but the chains have come off. There’s no stopping this now. Engulfing her body with mine, I pick up the pace, bucking wildly into her taut body. I can feel how close she is. It won’t be long for her either. I lean onto my outstretched forearm as I thrust into her.
“Oh, my god, I’m going to come again.” She squeals.
That’s all it takes to signal my balls it’s go time, and I practically pound her soft, curvy body into the bed. I can barely hear anything over the sounds of the blood rushing in my ears until she lets out a scream I can only hope is one of pleasure.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I pant, bracing myself for the most intense orgasm of my life.
After one last push into her, I still, feeling the hot spurts tear through me.
White dots dance across my vision. The continued waves of my climax crash over me, and I’m overtaken with a euphoria I didn’t know was possible.
Eventually, I withdraw from her and immediately miss her warmth. As I sit back on my heels, my breaths still ragged, I watch as she rolls to face me. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.
A dreamy smile crosses her face as she looks up at me. Reaching up, she affectionately places her hand on my chest.
All I can think in this moment, is that I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep this woman safe. And God willing, one day I’ll convince her she belongs here with me.
Char
I wake as the soft moonlight spills in through his large wall of windows, cocooned in quiet. The house feels different somehow. Safe but still, now that this gregarious, charming man is asleep.
How I’m not unconscious after the all-night sexual calisthenics should be baffling. But nighttime can be tough when you’re on the run. Your body’s exhausted, but your mind won’t stop spinning.
Every sound feels amplified. The pop of the dying fire, the faint hum of wind rolling down the mountain. Dave’s breathing is slow and even beside me. Peaceful. I envy that kind of rest. That confidence in your safety allowing you to relax so deeply.
I slip out from under the quilt, careful not to wake him.
The floorboards are cool under my feet, the air faintly scented with pine and smoke.
For a second, I just stand there, watching him.
He’s so handsome, patient, and kind. If I were to allow myself to really fall, I couldn’t ask for anyone better.
The house is quiet. And it’s so him. I bite my lip as I make my way down the hallway. Everything’s carefully chosen but lived-in. There are masculine lines, warm woods, understated art. It’s beautiful, but not showy. Comfortable. Like him.
I drift into what must be his study. The stars glisten through tall windows, casting soft silver lines across the room.
Shelves of leather-bound books line one wall, their foiled titles glinting faintly.
My fingers trail along their spines. The weight of the collection makes me wonder.
Does he actually read all of these, or were they chosen for his tricked-out bachelor pad by a decorator?
A framed photo catches my eye. Dave and Matt, covered in soot, grinning like idiots after what must’ve been a fire call. My chest tightens unexpectedly. There’s a goodness in him that doesn’t fit the world I know. The one where people take what they want and leave wreckage behind.
My gaze ping pongs about the room, eventually landing on his desk.
A book lies open but face down, an empty highball glass beside it.
I tilt the cover toward the light. Living with a Black Dog, I frown.
I never would’ve guessed he’d read a book about depression.
Maybe that’s why he’s so careful. So controlled.
Maybe that’s why I trust him more than I should.
As I carefully set the book back down, a stack of papers slides loose, spilling across the floor in a soft flutter.
“Shit.” I crouch, heart hammering. The last thing I need is for him to wake up and think I’m snooping through his stuff. I reach for the first page, meaning to stack them neatly again, when I see it.
My name in bold letters.
I freeze momentarily before flipping to the next page. My address. Another lists details about my senior year admission to Christmas High. My breath quickens as I flip through them, each one slicing a little deeper. It’s all about me.
What the—?