Chapter 5 #2
"Hell, yeah."
I sit up and he takes my little sundress up and off. I slip out of my bra as he pulls my panties down and tosses them away.
“Sweet mercy,” he whispers, before laying his massive weight over me, propped on his elbows so he doesn't crush me, and god, the heavy press of him—hot chest against my tits, hair rough on my skin, and that hard length riding against my hip.
He kisses me deeply, our mouths and tongues sinking into each other’s, making me shiver with need. He works his way down, lips, tongue, and teeth roving over every sensitive section of skin…from my throat down to my chest.
He takes one nipple into his mouth, and then the other, taking his time, sucking until I'm squirming and wet and whining his name.
"Garrett—oh god, please."
He slides a hand between my legs, slipping his fingers through my wet folds, exploring me, teasing my tender flesh…as he circles my clit, making me shake and moan.
Two thick fingers find my entrance, and he gently works me open. "That's it," he murmurs. "Open up for me, darlin'."
After a few moments, he rolls away briefly to grab a condom off of his nightstand—bless this prepared cowboy—and rolls it on.
He takes himself in hand and drags the thick head of his cock through my slick folds, nudging my clit, and I cry out. “God, that’s so good, I could come from just that.”
“Oh yeah?” He does it again, rubbing his slippery tip over my clit, back and forth, back and forth, and I’m a wreck. “Y-you can come, darlin,” he whispers, obviously affected by the sensations too. “I wanna give that needy pussy all the pleasure it can handle.”
He doesn’t stop relentlessly rubbing my clit with that cockhead, and my leg muscles are already tightening.
“Fuck, let me give that little clit what it wants.”
I love how much he’s talking. It’s pushing me over the edge. “Oh shit, yes!”
He speeds up a bit, sliding back and forth and in stuttering circles, and I’m gone. I tense up, all of my muscles clenching as my climax hits.
“Lark, goddamn,” he whispers harshly, and suddenly he thrusts his cock inside me, as I’m still coming.
I moan loudly. “Oh fuck, what—”
He's big. But I’m still soaring, my body somehow clenching and releasing as it stretches around him. It burns a little, but the intense pleasure overrides it.
And he moans louder…obviously feeling my pussy spasm around his thick length.
He sinks the rest of the way in on a long, shaking breath and then he's fully seated, and I've never felt this full. My eyes water.
He starts thrusting.
Long, deep strokes, at first—that hefty body working over me, his forearms caging my head. His mouth finds my ear and he starts talking.
"So sweet, darlin'…knew you'd feel like this…been dreamin' about you…Lark, you're so tight, so hot, Christ—"
"Yes…” I breathe, relishing every sweet, sexy word.
“…been so long, didn't know I was hungry for somethin' 'til you walked in…”
I lock my ankles in the small of his back and say his name on a moan. He pumps harder, deeper, hitting spots inside me that have me crying out again.
"That's it—that's it, darlin’." He moans again. “Like that big dick inside you, driving you up the wall…”
"Garrett—I'm—"
"You gonna come again? Let me feel it. I’m so ready to give it all to you.”
“Fuck, YES!” I come so hard I think I might black out, my whole body clenching around him, a sob tearing out of my throat.
In a second, Garrett shouts as if I've gutted him and his hips lose all rhythm. He grunts and convulses, saying my name over and over.
We finally flop side by side on the bed, trying to catch our breaths.
After a moment, he takes the condom off and disposes of it, rolling back to me. He lays his arm across my waist, and I rest my cheek on his chest.
"Turned forty in January,” he says, on an exhale.
“I just…sat on the porch that night by myself and thought, well, had my run.
" He huffs a dry laugh. "Figured the good parts were behind me.
Told myself I was fine with it. I mean, my folks are both gone.
" He pauses. “Was an only child. Got used to going weeks without talkin' to anybody but Moose. "
I stroke his chest, listening. "But were you really okay with that kind of life?"
There’s a long silence.
"I don't think I was." He pulls me tighter into him.
Pretty soon his breathing slows and deepens. His arm goes slack across my middle.
I stare at the rafters.
And the thought I had earlier about staying comes back—louder now, deafening, a whole brass band of a thought.
I can't breathe.
I don't know how to stay. I don’t know how to be a person who wakes up in the same bed twice in a row with the same man looking at me like Garrett does.
And if I try (and I fail) I’ll take this big, beautiful, sweet man down with me when I go.
He deserves better than that.
He deserves so much better than that.
I slide, millimeter by millimeter, out from under his arm.
I find my dress on the floor, and grab my bra and panties. My boots are by the door.
I dress in the dark, hands shaking.
At the door, I stop and listen to his breathing up in the loft.
Then I slip out into the night, trying to outrun my thoughts.