ELEVEN #3
Reality blurs around the edges, my surroundings, my awareness, narrowing down to him and me.
Hours pass, or minutes, or perhaps days.
Long, endless moments where he holds me, and takes me, his thrusts lazy, languid, his fingers stroking my front, like he has all the time in the world.
And when our mouths meet, we’re one breath, one heartbeat.
I have no control over the sounds I make, sounds he drags out of me, sounds that scrape my throat raw, that I can set free now that it’s just us.
And he’s insatiable for them. He drinks them from my lips while he fucks me long and deep on our sides, bending and pinning my top knee to the mattress in an angle that makes me see stars and tighten around him.
“Fuck, that’s good, Sammy, isn’t it?” He growls softly, smiling wildly when he licks inside my mouth, and I loop my arm around his neck, fisting his hair to keep him there.
My body is all twisted up, soaked in sweat, drenched in his scent, and I’m in heaven.
I nod, nuzzling his cheek. “I feel so good with you, Devon.”
He presses deeper into me, his body shuddering against mine, his hands touching me everywhere they can reach, leaving behind invisible marks I want to carry forever.
“Yeah?” he breathes hoarsely.
“Yeah.”
I feel his grin before I pull back to see it.
“So you forgive me for spoiling our nap?” he asks.
I laugh, but the sound tapers off into a moan when his cock hits me just right.
“We’ll nap after you’ve stretched me on your knot.”
He groans, his thrusts turning sharper, mind-numbingly accurate, and I cry out when he grazes my womb, bliss flooding my body. Overflowing.
“Sam…” His voice is a tortured whisper, his eyes all pupil as they fix on my chest.
On the milk leaking from my nipples.
My fingers tighten in his dark hair, completely ruined now from my hands. He looks nothing like the composed businessman everyone else sees as I tug him closer, as his hair falls on his forehead, and his eyes shine with need.
He looks wrecked. For me.
“Lick me clean, Alpha,” I murmur against his temple as his head drops, mouthing kisses on my chest. “Clean up the mess you made of me.”
He exhales hard, and I swear his body blankets mine without crushing me. All I feel, and see, and smell is him. He never stops moving inside me as he runs the flat of his tongue across my pec, chasing my milk, his eyes flicking up when he latches on my nipple, and sucks.
He’s so gentle, his hand rubbing my hip, snaking over my belly to hold me even as his cock and mouth pour liquid fire in my veins.
My breathing is shallow and fast, and his isn’t any better when he releases my sensitive nub, and trails hot kisses along my collarbone, up my throat, sucking hard on my neck.
I anchor myself to him, arching into him as he drives into me harder, deeper, faster, my body burning, burning, burning.
“Come with me, Sammy,” he pleads in a broken voice, brushing his lips against mine, grazing my womb once more.
And my body comes, just like that. Like it was just waiting for his words.
Waves of crushing relief ripple through me as Devon follows me over the edge, kissing me roughly while his knot swells and fills me completely.
I’m pretty sure his knot is the only thing keeping me from floating off this bed. And his mouth. And his tongue. And those massive arms still wrapped around me.
“Sam?”
“Hm?” I blink my eyes open, still dazed as hell, and there he is—smiling at me, hair mussed, eyes shining playfully.
“You said that out loud again.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Which part?”
His smile is blinding. “The whole thing. About the knot and the lips and the massive arms.”
Great.
“I think it’s safe to say your knot compromises my brain-to-mouth filter.” I sigh, shaking my head.
“I should get you on my knot more often then.” He threads his fingers with mine in a move similar to what I did earlier, and brings my knuckles to his lips.
He lays a soft kiss on them that makes my heart flutter, before he lowers our joint hands over my belly and shoots me a mischievous grin.
“It might make you call me handsome again.”
Call him handsome. Like I did that night at the hotel.
“You remember it,” I murmur.
His grin changes, his expression softening into something warmer, heavier.
“I remember everything.”
My throat feels strangely tight, and I think he can tell when he leans down to peck my lips.
“How about that nap now?”
I nod, the words, “yes, please,” far hoarser than I thought they’d be.
He shifts us so we’re entirely on our sides again, his breaths puffing against my hair, his nose buried in my curls. My eyes close at how good this feels.
“Devon?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you feel better now?”
I feel him still behind me, his body tensing, his hands tightening on me.
I don’t think I’m breathing until I hear his voice.
“I do, Sammy.”
His tone is soft, appeasing, and I nod into his pillow.
The light, tapping sound of the raindrops hitting the glass window gets louder as the rain grows stronger.
It lulls me to sleep so fast, I never notice how hard his heart is beating against my back.
Or how tight he’s holding me.
Like he’s afraid he’ll never get to hold me again.