Chapter 11 Beau #2
Her eyes go wide. “Beau Redding, I swear to…”
I kiss her quiet. And spend the next two hours making up for every minute I wasn’t inside her.
I wake up to Ina’s bed. Ina’s sheets. Ina’s warm, thick, perfect body face down on the mattress next to me with her face smashed into a pillow and her bare ass just…
out. Just sitting there. Round and full.
The kind of ass that makes grown men lose their religion.
Two full, heavy cheeks I can still feel in my palms from last night.
Marks from my fingers fading on her skin.
Her braids are everywhere. One arm hanging off the side of the bed. She’s dead to the world. Which should not be as cute as it is. Her back is bare …smooth dark skin, the line of her spine, the dimples above her ass. Hickeys on her shoulder and the back of her neck. Mine.
I should let her sleep. I know I should. I kept her up half the night. She’s probably sore in places she didn’t know she had.
But.
That ass. Her thick thighs, parted just enough. The way her pussy’s still swollen and flushed from last night, glistening between her legs. Puffy. Wet even in her sleep. Like her body knows I’m watching and is answering before she wakes.
I’m hard. Already. My cock’s standing at full attention, pressing against the sheets, throbbing like it didn’t just come four times in the last eight hours.
I ease closer. Slide a pillow under her hips. Slow. Careful. She mumbles something and shifts …her ass lifting, her thighs opening wider …but doesn’t wake.
I run my hand up the back of her thigh. Feel the smooth skin, the thick muscle under, the softness at the very top where her thigh meets her ass. Over the curve of her ass …round and heavy in my palm. I spread her cheeks with both hands and just… look. Swollen. Flushed. Still wet. Still mine.
I lean in and drag my tongue over her pussy from behind. One slow, long lick. She tastes like salt and sex and her, and I groan against her skin.
Ina jolts. Her head snaps up from the pillow.
“Wh…what…”
I lick her again. Deeper this time. Pushing my tongue inside her. Tasting her sweetness. Filthy and perfect.
“Beau?!” she sounds half asleep and half outraged. “Are you…Oh my God.”
“Mornin’, baby,” I murmur against her pussy. My lips brushing her swollen clit as I talk. “Breakfast.”
“That is NOT…oh fuck… oh fuck…”
I feast on her from behind. My hands gripping her ass, fingers sinking into that soft flesh, spreading her wide.
My tongue working her clit …flicking, sucking, circling …
while she writhes and moans into the pillow.
She’s so sensitive that it only takes a minute before she’s shaking.
Grinding her ass back against my face. Her thick thighs trembling on either side of my head.
“Beau… please… I can’t take any more…”
“Yes, you can.” I slide two fingers inside her …she’s swollen, tight, clenching around me instantly. I curl them and she wails. “My girl can take everything I give her.”
I work her with my fingers and my mouth until she comes hard.
Pulsing and clenching and sobbing into the sheets.
Her back arching, her ass pressing back into my face, her whole body shaking.
Then I rise up behind her, gripping her hips …
the soft curve of them filling my hands …
and drag the head of my cock through her soaked folds.
“Feel that?” I groan, rocking against her. My cock sliding through her wetness, the head bumping her clit. “Your bull’s ready for his cow.”
She chokes on a laugh. “Did you just call me a…?”
I thrust into her. All the way. One stroke. And the laugh turns into a scream.
“Oh, God…”
“That’s what I thought,” I growl, pulling back and slamming home again. Slow. Deep. So fucking deep that my hips press flat against her ass …I feel the soft cushion of it against my pelvis, feel her cheeks spread around me. “This pussy was made for me, Ina. Made to take me. Stretch for me.”
I fuck her slow this time. Not like last night.
Not desperate and frantic, and crashing.
This is morning. This is ownership. Long, grinding strokes that make the bed creak and her hands twist in the sheets.
I watch myself disappear inside her …watch her pussy stretch around my cock, slick and swollen, gripping me on every out-stroke.
“You feel that?” I lean over her, my chest against her back …my skin against hers, hot and damp. My mouth to her ear. Her braids brushing my face. “That’s your bull, baby. The one who fills you. Breeds you. Takes care of you.”
“Beau…” She’s trembling under me. Her face buried in the pillow. Her pussy clenching me so tight I can barely move. I can feel her heartbeat around my cock.
I grab a fistful of her braids. Tug her head back …her neck arching, her throat exposed, a moan tearing out of her. “Who do you belong to?”
“You,” she gasps. “I belong to you.”
“Who’s gonna breed this pussy?”
“Oh, baby… you are…”
“Who’s gonna put a baby in you, Ina?”
She sobs. “You, Beau. You. Please…”
I slam deep. Once. Twice. Three more times.
Grinding against her cervix. Watching her body shake …
her ass rippling with every thrust, her shoulder blades flexing, her dark skin gleaming with sweat.
Her mouth drops open. Her eyes roll back.
Then she comes. Violently. Her whole body arching, clamping, milking me.
And I follow with a roar, pumping into her so deep my vision goes black, filling her until she’s overflowing.
Leaking around me. Dripping onto the sheets.
I collapse on top of her. Both of us wrecked. Drenched. Panting. My cock still buried inside her, still twitching. Her skin slick and hot under me. Her heartbeat hammering against my chest through her back.
“Jesus Christ,” she mutters into the pillow.
I kiss the back of her neck …tasting sweat. Her shoulder blade …feeling the bone under soft skin. That spot behind her ear …she shivers, even now, even destroyed.
“Still alive?” I ask.
“Barely.” She turns her head. One eye open. Her dark lashes clumped together. Her full lips, puffy and bitten. Looking thoroughly destroyed. “You’re an animal.”
“Your animal.”
“My animal,” she repeats softly. And there’s no sarcasm in it. Just warmth. Just truth. She shifts under me. Winces. “I’m going to walk funny today.”
“Good.”
“It’s NOT good.”
“It is from where I’m sitting.”
“You’re not sitting. You’re lying on top of me like a two-hundred-and-forty-pound heated blanket.”
I grin against her skin. “Two-thirty-five.”
“Get off me.”
She tries to shove me off. I don’t budge. She huffs. Then laughs. A full, gorgeous laugh that makes her whole body shake under me and reaches inside my chest and sets up permanent residence.
I finally roll off her. Pull her into my side.
She curls against me …her cheek on my chest, her bare tit pressing soft against my ribs, her leg draped heavy over mine.
Her hand comes to rest on my stomach, her small fingers tracing lazy circles through the trail of hair below my navel.
I feel every pass of her fingertips. Every brush of her skin against mine.
Her body is warm and heavy and real against me, her breath evening out against my chest. Her scent everywhere …sugar and sex and sweat. My arm around her waist, my hand resting on the curve of her hip, my thumb stroking the soft skin there.
This, this right here. This is everything.
“Beau?” she says after a while. Her voice is soft. Her lips moving against my chest when she talks.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I’m sorry I went quiet on you.”
I tighten my arm around her. Press my lips to the top of her head …her braids soft against my mouth, her shampoo sweet in my nose. “I know what you were doing.”
“You do?”
“You were scared. You were protecting yourself. I get it. I’m not gonna punish you for having walls. Just gonna keep showing up, until you don’t need them anymore.”
She’s quiet for a long time. Her fingers stop moving on my stomach. Then she presses her face into my chest …I feel her eyelashes flutter against my skin, feel the warmth of her breath, feel something wet that might be tears …and takes a shaky breath.
“He really fucked me up, Beau. Mark. The divorce. All of it. I’m… I’m trying.”
I hold her tighter. Pull her closer. Feel her whole body melt into mine …
every soft, warm, trembling inch of her.
“I know you are.” I tip her chin up with one finger.
Look her dead in her beautiful brown eyes …
wet, wide, so dark they’re almost black in the morning light.
“And I’m not him. I’m never gonna be him. You’re stuck with me now, cowgirl.”
She smiles. Watery. Real. Her full lips trembling. A tear slipping down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “I think I am.”
I kiss her forehead. Then her nose. Then her mouth …soft, slow, tasting salt. Her hand comes up to my jaw, her small palm cupping my face, her thumb tracing my cheekbone. We stay like that. Mouth to mouth. Skin to skin. Breathing each other in.
“Now, let me make you breakfast. Since somebody interrupted the first course.”
She shoves a pillow in my face. I just laugh.