21. Alana #2
Then his fingers are inside me, and I cry out at the sensation. My hips buckle. I want more. I want more of him. I want more of everything.
I clutch the sheets and press my lips together to stop from crying out.
Amos doesn't relent. He keeps licking and stroking and thrusting until my world explodes. I bite my lower lip, trying so hard not to make a sound as my body convulses.
When I sit up, Amos's eyes go wide.
"Alana, you bit your lip."
"I was trying not to make a noise."
He swipes his finger over my stinging lip, and blood comes away.
"Shit," he mutters.
There's a box of tissues by the bed and he grabs one, dabbing at my lip.
"You can't do that. Next time you have to let the sound out."
"Next time?" My eyes widen as he pushes between my legs.
My body feels floppy, but I know what I want. Now that he's awakened this desire in me, I can't stop. My hand reaches for his belt, and I pull his jeans over his muscular thighs. My fingers trail down, catching in the hair on his legs.
There's a new throbbing deep in my core that must be answered.
I pull his boxers down, and his large cock points straight at me.
"Fuck," I whisper.
My hands pause, wondering how I'm going to take him all in.
I glance up at Amos, and his eyes are dark with desire. "Don't worry, baby. You were made for me."
I stand up, wanting to feel his body pressed against mine. He pulls off his shirt, and I pull mine off. We're naked together for the first time.
I'm usually self-conscious about my body. But in the dim light, with his fingers trailing over my bare skin, I feel sexy.
He kisses my lips, then my neck, and moves slowly down to my breasts. He takes a nipple between his teeth and tugs, and I almost lose it again.
One hand cups my buttocks and the other swirls around my free breast, making my body writhe. I bump my hips against him, and his solid length slips in between my legs. He thrusts forward, and the sensation of his cock grazing my entrance has me gripping his arms.
"Fuck, Amos, I'm ready."
He crouches down and pulls his wallet out of his jeans. There's a condom tucked into one of the sleeves.
I don't ask questions. I'm just grateful he has one.
He slides it on, and a bubble of nervousness wraps around my stomach.
He kisses my arms and shoulder and nuzzles into my neck. "I'm going to look after you, Alana, but I want you to cry out. I want you to scream if you want to, so we're going to get you a pillow."
He grabs a pillow from the top of the bed and throws it down behind me.
"Turn around for me, baby."
I spin around and rest my knees on my bed, and he pushes me forward so my elbows fall to the bed and my ass is in the air.
His warm hand cups my buttocks, and his other hand reaches between my legs to stroke my aching pussy. I buck my hips, wanting more of his touch.
He runs a smooth palm around my buttocks. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs.
I've always thought I had a big ass. But with Amos holding it, I feel sexy and perfect and beautiful in his arms.
He leans forward and kisses my back, causing his stubble to scratch down my skin. I feel every ridge of his muscular torso against my back. His breath tickles my ear in a whisper.
"You're going to scream my name into that pillow when I fuck you."
I jerk my hips backwards and whine when he stands upright, losing his body pressed against mine.
My whine turns to a moan a moment later when he slides his cock between my legs. One hand grabs my ass as the other glides his tip into my entrance.
Then he enters me slowly. I press my lips together as the sensation of him filling me gets to be too much.
"Into the pillow," he commands. His hand pushes the back of my head, and then I'm down with my face in the soft pillow. "Bite the pillow."
At that moment, Amos thrusts into me and I cry out, the pillow muffling the sound.
Amos keeps a hand tangled in my hair while the other grabs my hips. My moans are muffled by the pillow as he moves back and forth until I'm full up with him. It's the best sensation, like nothing I've ever experienced.
I feel full. I feel complete.
For a few glorious moments, there's nothing else in the world apart from our bodies colliding.
Amos sucks in his teeth and pauses.
I look back over my shoulder. "Everything okay?"
"You feel so fucking good," he groans. "I'm going to lose it, and I don't want to do that. Not too soon. Not on your first time."
"It's okay," I whisper. "I want you to lose control."
He groans as I slide my hips back and he sinks deeper into me. He relinquishes control, and I move back and forth on his cock.
"Fuck," he rasps.
He leans forward and sinks deeper still. His hand slides around my body to grab my breast, and his palm grazes my nipple.
I cry out and push my head down into the pillow. It feels dirty and sexy and beautiful all at once.
Amos moves behind me, and with every thrust, my pleasure grows. His hand roves over my body from nipple to clit. His palm swirls around my clit, causing sensations to shoot through me.
Every thrust brings me closer to the edge until I'm falling—falling—falling right over.
My body tenses, then releases, and I cry out. I scream his name into the pillow, and it muffles my moans.
Amos tenses. He grabs my ass and pulls me hard against him.
A second wave of sensation crashes through me, and I convulse again and again at the same time as his body shakes. My vision blurs and happy tears spring from my eyes.
It seems like it takes minutes for my body to come down from the high it's been on.
Amos reaches around to my shoulders and gently pulls me up from the bed.
Only then do I realize I've slobbered all over the pillow. But I don't care.
"Fuck," I murmur with a tired smile.
He rolls me over, pulls the condom off, and wraps it in a tissue. Then he climbs onto the bed next to me and pulls me close.
We don't talk. I don't think I can.
I feel sleepy and content—but there's a niggle in the back of my mind.
I gave in to him. I gave in to myself. To the pleasure I wanted. And it was wonderful and I don't regret it. Yet is this really something I can do again?
Amos picks up my panties and T-shirt from the floor and hands them to me. He seems to know instinctively that I wouldn't want the kids to see us naked.
"Get under the covers, Alana. Get some sleep."
He kisses my forehead. Then he pulls on his own t-shirt and boxers.
"I'm going to check on Sam."
He pulls the blankets over me, and I understand why he needs to check on Sam. But it feels like a loss when he puts his jeans back on and heads out of the room.
I pull myself out of my sleepy feeling and follow him out of the room. While he checks on Sam, I get the couch ready.
Amos comes out of the kids' room and seems surprised to find me in the living room.
"I've put a spare pillow and comforter on the couch," I say. "You can sleep here."
Something flashes across his face, but he nods curtly.
I clasp my hands in front of me, hating the words even as I say them.
"I don't want Kyra to come in during the night and find you in the bed. It wouldn't be good. I'm sorry."
He nods. "I get it. I'm not going to sleep much anyway. I want to stay awake and check on Sam."
He pulls me toward him. "That was incredible, Alana. Now get some sleep."
I pad back to the bedroom, leaving him in the living room. It's the right thing to do for Kyra. But it feels so damn hard.
I lie awake in the night, thinking about what we do for our kids and what we give up for them. And the sacrifices, big and small, that parents make.