9. Under the Stars #3
I reach between us, grabbing the front of his button-down shirt.
My fingers fumble with the small buttons.
Nolan pulls back enough to help me. He shrugs the fabric off his broad shoulders, tossing it onto the tarp.
The cool prairie air hits his bare skin.
The starlight catches the cut lines of his chest and stomach.
He returns the favor, working the zipper of my light jacket. He pushes the fabric down my arms. Grabbing the hem of my ribbed knit top, he pulls it over my head. He tosses the clothes aside.
He stops to admire me in my bra and denim jeans. He traces the black lace edge of my bra with his finger. His dark eyes burn with intense focus, taking his time to map the curves of my body.
“You’re gorgeous,” Nolan breathes against my collarbone.
He trails open-mouth kisses down my neck, working a slow, deliberate path toward my chest. He unhooks the front clasp of my bra, pushing the material aside. His warm mouth closes over my sensitive nipple.
I gasp, arching my spine into the plush mattress pad.
The suction sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core.
While his mouth works over my breasts, my hands drop to his waist. I undo the buckle of his belt and pull the metal zipper down, pushing his denim jeans and boxers over his narrow hips.
He kicks the clothes off into the grass.
His thick cock springs free, pressing hot and hard against my thigh.
Nolan shifts his attention lower. He unbuttons my jeans and shucks them down my legs, taking my underwear with them. The cool air wraps around our naked bodies.
He drags slow, wet kisses down my stomach, lingering at the edge of my hip bones.
Tracing the slick folds between my thighs with his fingers, he teases the sensitive nerve endings.
A desperate whimper escapes my throat. He parts my knees wide open to the night air, shifting his body down the mattress pad.
He buries his face between my legs.
My back bows off the blankets.. His tongue finds my clit, working the sensitive bundle of nerves with steady, skilled friction.
He strokes over my wetness, tracing the slick folds with precision.
A deep hum vibrates against my center, sending shocks of electricity right up my spine.
I grip the thick wool blankets, thrashing against the pillows to chase the intense buildup.
“Nolan, please.”
He draws my clit into his mouth, using a firm suction. The orgasm hits fast and hard. I shatter against his mouth, a loud moan echoing across the empty prairie.
Dropping back against the pillows, my chest heaves for air. Nolan crawls up my body. His chin is slick with my wetness. His eyes burn with dark, unhinged lust. His thick, straining cock presses against my hip.
“I need you inside me.” Reaching down, I wrap my fingers around his hot shaft, guiding the tip to my slick entrance.
Nolan clenches his jaw. He braces his hands on either side of head and pushes forward. He sinks his thick cock into my tight, dripping pussy in one deep, slow thrust.
A ragged sob of relief leaves my lips. He fills me all the way, stretching my walls to the limit.
He establishes a powerful, methodical rhythm.
His hips snap forward, driving deep before pulling back.
The friction lights my nerve endings on fire.
The thick knot at the base of his shaft swells.
The hard bulb presses firm against my swollen outer folds with every downward pump.
He keeps the knot outside, holding himself back with terrifying discipline.
He drags every whimper and moan from my throat, pacing the rhythm to keep me right on the edge of madness.
The tension coils tight in my gut again. “Don’t hold back. Give it to me.”
“Take it, sweetheart.” Nolan drives his hips forward, bottoming out against my cervix.
My inner walls contract around his cock in an intense orgasm. The tight grip shatters his restraint.
Nolan groans my name into the quiet night. He pumps his release deep inside my core, his hips twitching with the force of his climax. He collapses over my chest, burying his face in my neck as he catches his breath.
We lie tangled together in the cool night breeze.
Nolan rolls to the side, taking my weight with him.
He pulls my back flush against his chest and tucks the thick wool up to my chin, shielding me from the cold.
He presses a tender kiss to the crown of my head.
The rich scent of black tea envelops me, offering absolute warmth and security.
Watching a meteor flare across the darkness, the first true crack forms in my defensive armor.
The three-month clock ticks in the back of my mind. I expect the familiar, overwhelming urge to run to appear. Instead, a terrifying realization hits me. I don’t want to leave his arms.
The lack of a flight response leaves me in a haze of confusion. I stay awake under the Colorado sky, caught in a lingering battle between my ingrained survival habit of fleeing and this brand-new, terrifying desire to stay.