Chapter 22 #2
“You looked so pretty sitting on the counter that I had to fuck you,” he whispers harshly.
I blush, hot and full-body, and he thumbs my clit between us, circling the swollen nub with his thumb while his cock pistons into me, and the dual sensation is too much.
I come with a wail, my mouth pressing into his neck.
My pussy clenches around him, pulsing, slick gushing around his cock, and he follows me a few thrusts later, burying his face in my hair, his breath ragged, his cock pulsing inside me as he comes.
His cock swells. The knot stretches me wider, locking us together, and we both stay there for a moment, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.
“Oh my god, I never thought we’d end up like this. I was pretty serious when I said no funny business,” I say, shaking my head.
He chuckles, kissing my cheek. “You’re lying to me now, Lia. You know what I do to bad girls. But since you’re already knotted to me, you’ll have to wait a little bit.”
“Your sauce is going to burn,” I say, and he laughs as I wrap my legs tighter around his waist.
He reaches behind him without looking, turns the burner to low, stirs the pan one-handed while his other arm holds me securely against his chest. His knot jiggles inside me with each movement, stretching me, sending little aftershocks of pleasure through my oversensitive pussy, and I close my eyes and lean against his strong chest.
Julian feeds me bites of chicken from a fork, while I straddle him on a chair, still locked to him with his knot.
The chicken is perfect.
Crisp skin, juicy underneath, the lemon-garlic sauce bright and rich against the fat. I moan around the fork without meaning to, and Julian’s eyes go dark, his dimple appearing as he smiles.
“Told you I can cook,” he says, and feeds me another bite.
“It’s amazing,” I moan, taking a swig of wine.
“The first time I ever tried to cook was in college,” he says, twirling asparagus on the fork. “I was seventeen and drunk. It was three in the morning, and for some reason I decided I was going to make pasta carbonara for my three roommates.”
“This sounds like it ends badly.”
“It ended with all four of us in the campus health center two days later with salmonella,” he replies, grinning. “I scrambled raw eggs onto half-cooked spaghetti. Served it with full confidence.”
I laugh and nearly choke on my wine. Julian grins at me, his hazel eyes warm in the low light of my kitchen.
He feeds me bites of his asparagus off his fork. I let him. His thumb brushes my lower lip once, catching a drop of sauce, and he brings his thumb to his mouth and licks it clean while holding my eyes, and my pussy clenches all over again.
After dinner, his knot has fully subsided. I do the dishes while he dries.
The apartment is warm and small. It smells like him, and it feels so comforting. His clean lemon scent, musky with sex, is intoxicating to me.
I yawn. Even though it’s only 10 p.m. I’m pretty tired and can hardly open my eyes. I am exhausted from a day that began with heartbreak, a scare from my ex, and ended with getting knotted in my own kitchen.
“I’m going to bed,” I tell him, drying my hands on a dish towel.
He nods. “I’ll take the couch.”
There is a pause. I look at him in disbelief.
“You just literally fucked me on my kitchen counter,” I say.
His lips twitch. “I’m kidding. Let’s go to bed, sweetheart.”
We walk to my small bedroom, and I pull the covers back on my unmade bed as we both climb in. He pulls me against his chest, one arm around my waist, his body warm and solid against my back.
We lie there for a long moment without moving. His breath is even against the back of my neck. His hand rests on my stomach, his thumb tracing slow circles on my skin. Slowly I’m breathing hard again.
I suddenly move onto my hands and knees in front of him, bend forward over my own pillow, and present.
He understands. He doesn’t need me to explain.
One hand runs slowly down the curve of my spine, from the base of my neck to the small of my back. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “Constantly wet for me. Always ready. My perfect omega.”
He kneels behind me. Lines himself up. Slides into my pussy from behind in one smooth, deep stroke.
“Oh fuck,” I whisper, closing my eyes.
He fucks me slowly this time as he grips my ass cheeks, spreading me. His thumb slides into the middle of my ass crack, rubbing my anus as he thrusts.
“Such a pretty ass,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Your pussy is so hungry, baby.”
“Hungry for you,” I whisper back as he makes love to me in the dark.
I drop my cheek to the pillow and let him take me. I am so tired and so warm and so safe that my body responds without me thinking about it. My pussy milks his cock with every stroke as he rubs my sphincter with his thumb, increasing the feeling rising inside of me.
He picks up his pace gradually. I am making small, soft sounds into my pillow. I’m letting out moans, whimpers, the kind of noises I would be embarrassed about if anyone else could hear them. Only he could hear my sounds right now.
His hand slides under me, finds my clit, circles it with his thumb, and the added pressure makes me gasp.
He leans forward and braces one hand beside my head. Uses his other hand under my hip to lift my ass higher, and the new angle changes everything—his cock hitting deeper into my channel.
“Julian,” I gasp into the sheets.
“Right there, baby,” he growls. “Come on my dick. Come for me.”
The sound of his balls slapping against my ass cheeks as he loses control turns me on like nothing else.
He’s gone completely feral. He fucks me harder and harder, until I come with a high moan, my pussy pulsing, slick gushing around his cock, my whole body trembling.
His cock swells fast, stretching my sore pussy wider and wider.
His hot liquid spurts into my womb in long streams. Suddenly, his teeth find my shoulder. He freezes there, his mouth hot against my skin, his breath ragged.
“I want to mark you,” he whispers.
My heart races. The old fear rises fast.
“No,” I whisper. “Please. Not yet.”
He kisses the spot instead. Gentle. Soft. His lips press against my shoulder where his teeth had been, and he murmurs against my skin. “I understand. Not until you’re ready. Don’t worry.”
He collapses onto his side and pulls me against his chest. He does not let go of me. His arm is heavy across my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck, and I close my eyes, breathing hard.
He wanted to mark me.