29. Astrid #2
“Are you going to give me some quick fireworks or am I going to have to work at it?” he teases lightly. He moves his tongue down to my opening, tracing his tongue all the way around before giving me a long lick and growling at the taste. “My favorite flavor.”
“More, please.” I’m already begging, and we just got started.
He returns to my clit, flicking his tongue faster now, and I feel his thumb move to my opening where he massages gently. I relax and press closer.
“That’s my girl,” he praises.
His words make me relax even more, and he slides his thumb into me.
I feel my muscles tighten around him, but not in the oh-no-this-is-painful way. This is very much in the I-wish-that-was-bigger way.
“You’re doing so good, Astrid.”
“It feels so good,” I tell him. “I want more. I need more.”
“I will give you everything you need,” he promises. “Let me get you ready. Come for me.”
“I’m so ready.” I sound like I am on the verge of crying, but it’s just all so good.
“But I need you to take my cock,” he reminds me.
I know he says it just because he knows how much I love to hear him say the word ‘cock’, and he knows because when he says it, my muscles clench around his finger and try to pull him deeper.
“Do you want that, you beautiful thing? I can’t wait to sink deep inside you, Astrid. I can’t wait to feel this hot, needy heat around me. It will be so good for both of us.”
“I know.” I’m having a hard time catching my breath. “I want it so much, Declan.”
“And you’re going to have it.” He thrusts his thumb faster at the same time he leans in and licks my clit, and suddenly stars explode behind my eyes, and I’m coming, clenching around his finger and coating his hand.
“Good girl. That’s my very good girl,” he murmurs, shifting slightly and moving so that he can slide a finger into me. “That’s one.”
I shake my head. “I want you. I want your cock now.”
“Give me another one,” he says. “I need you hot and wet, and all stretched out.”
I move my legs apart, even as I protest. “Dec. Please.”
He’s moving his finger in and out with his thumb circling my very sensitive clit. He leans in to suck on my nipple hard. “Do you really want me to stop?” he asks against my breast.
I shake my head again. “No. God. Whatever you want. Do whatever you want.”
“That’s right. This is mine. And I will take good care of it.”
I know he feels my reaction to that. He gives me a very pleased grin. “Look at you taking two fingers. Do you feel that stretch?”
I didn’t even realize that he had two fingers inside me. Now he spreads them slightly, and I do feel the stretch, but there is no pain.
“I do. It’s good.”
“It is good. You’re fucking perfect.”
He stretches again, then he turns his hand, pressing his fingers against one side, then the other. I know he’s stretching the muscles but also testing to see if I give him any indication of a specific painful point.
There’s none. I knew it was that angle on my desk.
“You’re going to come for me again,” he tells me.
It’s not a question. It’s really not even a teasing suggestion. It’s absolutely a command.
“I am just—”
He curls his fingers inside of me, rubbing against a spot at the front while he leans over and sucks on my clit again and just like that, I’m coming again, crying out his name. This orgasm feels deeper, not as hot and sharp, but just as strong.
“Exactly like that,” he tells me, sounding almost proud as I slowly float back to earth.
His fingers are still deep, and he waits until I make eye contact to slip them out. He lifts them to his mouth and licks them clean as I watch.
“Are you ready for a ride?”
In answer, I put a foot on his chest and push him back, then scramble to my knees.
He’s laughing as he sprawls on the cushions. His cock is thick and long, but instead of feeling trepidation, looking at it, I feel eager. My inner muscles are hot and relaxed, and my whole body is tingling. I’ve never been more ready to try this.
I swing a leg over his thighs, so I’m straddling his lap.
His eyes are dark, and his cheeks are flushed with arousal. His big hands settle on my hips immediately. “Condom,” he says tightly.
I only think about my answer for a second. “But…if I get pregnant, that would be okay, right?”
His eyes flash. Possessiveness, desire, awe. His fingers tighten on my hips. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I love you. I want you. For good. We want to create an even bigger family, right?”
He nods. “Right.” He takes a deep breath. “Jesus, Astrid. You make me so fucking happy.”
“Good.” I lean forward, rubbing against his cock. “Then are you ready?”
“I’ve been waiting for you forever. And I’ll keep waiting. Use me, Firework. For whatever you need.”
This position is perfect. Not only do I feel completely in control, but I can see everything.
His big, broad chest is rising and falling rapidly, his gorgeous face and all of the emotion—desire, anticipation, awe, and love—fully on display, his flat stomach with the ridges of his six-pack, his narrow waist and hips, and his gorgeous cock.
I scoot up, bracing my hands on his ribs. I position my pussy over his cock, then lightly rub my clit over the hard length.
“Fuck,” he breathes out.
I don’t really have a word. I just nod along with him.
I do it again and again, coating his length with the wetness he helped produce.
“I can almost give myself an orgasm just doing this.”
“Whatever you need,” he says tightly.
When I look from his cock to his face, I realize he’s speaking through clenched teeth.
I’m torturing him.
And a tiny part of me enjoys that. I love having this effect on him.
But as generous as he’s been to me, I can’t keep doing this.
“But I have a better idea,” I tell him. Then I lift my body until the head of his cock is nudging my opening.
He’s holding his breath as I start to slowly lower myself.
I think I am too. But I take him.
I go slow, inch by inch, and though there is a stretch, a lot of heat, definite friction, there is no pain.
“Oh my God,” I finally gasp when I’ve taken him completely.
“Jesus, Firework,” he pants. “Astrid. You feel so fucking good. Dammit, this is heaven.”
His hands are tight on my hips, his fingers curling into the sides of my ass. His chest is rising and falling quickly. His jaw is still tight.
“It’s good. It’s so good,” I tell him in case that’s not clear.
He strokes his hands up my sides, then back down to my hips. “I’m so proud of you.”
And I am too.
I’ve worked hard to get to this moment. I’ve wanted this so badly. There have been so many days of pain and frustration, setbacks and heartbreak.
Hell, I tried to divorce this man because I thought this could never happen.
But we’re here. It’s working.
I slowly lift myself partway up and then let myself back down.
And yeah, it’s really working.
I let out a light laugh. “This is so good.”
He squeezes my hips. “It really is. It really fucking is,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.
“So now I just do this?” I ask, moving myself up and down again, feeling playful suddenly.
He grits his teeth again, but says, “Yeah, pretty much just like that. For about two minutes before I explode.”
I laugh. “And what happens if I do this?” I lean back slightly and gasp as the angle forces him deeper.
But it’s still good.
His voice is ragged when he says, “That works too.”
I laugh louder now, full of joy and endorphins. “And what about this?” I lean back until I am fully upright and raise my arms.
His gaze is hot on my breasts, and I feel my nipples tingle. I move myself up and down in this position, shocked, but thrilled that I can take him deep like this.
“That’s fucking amazing,” he tells me. “Now touch your clit.”
I reach down and do just that. He is, after all, in charge here.
I circle over my clit and then use my other hand to tease a nipple.
All of that combined with the way he’s watching me starts an orgasm coiling, deep and hot.
“Declan.” I don’t have anything to add to that. I just needed to say his name.
And then I need to kiss him. I reach for him, and he seems to know what I need. He sits up, cupping my head and kissing me deeply, holding me close.
Using my knees, I move up and down in shorter strokes, and the tightness of our bodies, along with his kisses, sends me tumbling over the edge of another orgasm.
“Astrid,” he says gruffly against my ear, his arms tight around me as his body suddenly tenses and I feel him shuddering as his orgasm hits as well. “Fuck. Yes. God, I love you.”
I slump against him, physically spent, but also suddenly overcome with emotions.
Tears stream out of my eyes, and sobs seem to come from the very depths of my body.
He doesn’t seem alarmed. Or really even surprised. He just holds me, stroking my hair and keeping me tight against his body.
When I finally quiet, he reaches for his dress shirt we tossed aside and dresses me in it before laying us down on the cushions, my back to his front.
“I love you,” I murmur as sleep almost immediately starts to pull me under.
“I love you, too.”
And when I wake up at some point in the early morning hours, with the moon shining in on the porch and my husband breathing softly behind me, I find us underneath the throw blanket from the couch, and my cat curled up on top of both of us.