Chapter 30 The Spicy Tuna Effect #2
He pushed inside slowly, deeply, curling as he swallowed my cry. His mouth never stopped. Then a second finger joined, stretching me, filling me perfectly. He found a spot that made my vision whiten, stroking relentlessly as his tongue worked.
My hips rolled against his face, seeking everything. He gave it. Fingers pumped, mouth worked, and his eyes, when I forced mine open, were locked on mine, watching me unravel.
“I'm... I'm gonna...”
He nodded and redoubled his efforts. His tongue lashed my clit, fingers stroked that perfect spot, and the coil snapped.
Ecstasy crashed through me, and a broken sob of his name, tearing free as I clenched around his fingers. He gentled, softly lapping as I shuddered through each pulse, until the sensation became almost too much and I collapsed, boneless and gasping.
He kissed his way up my trembling body. Settled beside me, brushed hair from my damp forehead.
“Okay?” he whispered.
I could only nod. I reached for his waistband, fumbling. “Need you. Now.”
He helped, pushing fabric down, freeing himself. Thick and hard, the tip glistening. I pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips, hovering above him.
Reaching between us, I guided his cock to my entrance as I sank down slowly, letting him fill me. We groaned together, a mixture of relief and pleasure.
Fully seated, I paused, adjusting to the fullness with my hands braced on his chest, and looked down.
His hands settled on my hips. “You're so beautiful like this. Taking what you need.”
I began to move. A slow, rolling grind. Lifting almost all the way before sinking back.
His grip tightened on my hips. “Just like that. Take your time. Take all of me.”
I leaned forward, changing the angle. He groaned, head falling back. I kissed his throat, his jaw, maintaining that slow rhythm.
“Dallas,” I moaned against his lips.
“I know.” He gasped. His hands slid up to cup my face. “Come for me again. I want to feel you.”
His words hung in the air. I held his gaze, still moving above him, feeling him fill me completely.
Then his hands tightened.
In one smooth motion, he rolled us.
The world spun. Cushions shifted. Then my back was against the throws, and he was above me, caged between my thighs, still buried deep. My gasp was swallowed by his kiss.
He broke away, breath ragged against my lips. Found my wrists. Pinned them gently but firmly above my head.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
I did. His face was a mask of concentration and barely leashed need.
He withdrew almost completely, the slow drag making me whimper. Then pushed back in. A deep stroke that punched a moan from my chest. The pace was agonizing. Each withdrawal a torment. Each thrust a burst of pleasure.
“This is what I thought about,” he breathed, burying himself to the hilt. “Having you under me. Open for me.”
I writhed, but his grip held me in place, a delicious contrast to the tender invasion.
He leaned down, lips at my ear. Thrusts never faltering.
My muscles fluttered around him, sharp and involuntary. He groaned and dropped his forehead to my shoulder.
“Yes. Just like that.”
He moved faster. The angle shifted, and the head of his cock rubbed a spot that curled my toes. A thin sound escaped me.
He nuzzled my neck. “I thought about the sounds you'd make. I'd hear you laugh with Brooke and wondered what you'd sound like when you came.”
Heat pooled low and heavy.
“Dallas...”
“Tell me what you need.”
“Harder. Just a little…”
A dark smile touched his lips. He released my wrists and braced his forearms beside my head, lowering himself. The new position was overwhelming, his solid weight, skin sealing to mine, each grinding thrust rubbing my clit.
I wrapped my legs high around his waist, pulling him deeper.
He buried his face in my hair, breathing raggedly. “You feel like a dream. So wet. So tight. So fucking perfect.”
Each word stoked the fire. I was climbing again, pressure building in a slow wave. His thrusts gained raw power, his control fraying.
I met his gaze and my orgasm detonated, a silent shock before a shattered cry. Deep, pulsing clenches gripped him as my vision whited out, aware of nothing but pleasure and his anchoring weight.
He swore, rough, broken, and his control shattered. Thrusts lost rhythm, became desperate drives. With a final deep grind, he buried himself and stilled. Hot release flooded me, triggering another ripple of bliss.
Slowly, he rolled to his side, taking me with him, keeping us joined. Tucking my head under his chin, arms wrapped tight. He kissed my damp hair.
Minutes passed. The world seeped back. Scattered cushions.
His hand stroked my back in long, soothing passes. “Okay?” he whispered again, the question now weighted with new meaning.
I nodded against his chest. “More than okay.”
He was quiet. “The patience thing was a lesson from before,” He whispered against my hair. “I learned to wait for what mattered. To make it last.” He pulled back to look at me, eyes soft. “But with you, I just want forever, and I want it to start now.”
I traced the line of his jaw. I opened my mouth to respond, but he kissed me, slow and deep and sweet, before I could.
When he pulled back, that familiar wicked glint had returned. He shifted his hips, a subtle, promising movement that made me gasp. Still inside me, stirring to life again.