27. Drake #3
Once her tremors slowed, I hauled her upright.
She squeaked, arms flying around my neck as I laid her back on the couch and slotted myself between her legs again.
I didn’t hold back, pressing my weight into her, crushing her into the cushions.
Her mouth parted, and she used her hold on my neck to draw my mouth back to hers, tongue meeting tongue.
Helen sucked in a breath when I thrust inside her again.
Without hesitating, she locked her ankles behind my back, keeping me trapped against her.
I couldn’t think of a better place in the world to be.
Skin to skin, heart to heart, buried inside her and tongue tangled, I leisurely stroked inside of her.
Gentle, slow, I tenderly lavished her in adoration.
I kissed her lips until she was breathless, laved my tongue along the column of her throat, leaving behind evidence of my claim with my teeth.
Sweet sighs and dulcet moans flitted from her bruised lips as her core tightened again.
But I didn’t let her fall over the edge.
Instead, I drew out the encounter, rolling over her as my cock dipped into the depths of her cunt.
Her walls clenched around me, sucking me deeper as if I belonged inside of her.
No longer fucking her like a deranged beast from my need to reassure myself of our bond, of her safety, I poured everything I felt for her into my actions.
I used my hands on her feverish skin to write poetry.
I carved my adoration into her mouth with my tongue.
I sculpted her body with my hips snapping against hers.
Not frenzied survivor’s sex; I was making love with her.
“Drake. Drake,” she cried, shining tears cutting tracks from her eyes. Her voice carried out a stuttered whine as the sparks in her surged into an inferno. “?a fait du bien.”
“I know, baby. I know,” I heaved against her, slightly picking up the pace to feel her shaking again.
“I…” she sobbed. Startled, I glanced down at her. The light in her eyes made my heart skip before she set it ablaze. “I love you. I love you, Drake.”
“Fuck.” I captured her lips again, feeling her tears on my cheeks as she whined into my mouth. “I love you, too. Can you come for me again? Please, come for me. I love you so much.”
Helen snapped, moaning loud as she shuddered.
She gripped me tight, riding out the waves of her bliss, coming, coming hard in endless spasms. Her entire body shivered beneath me, and her tight cunt gripped me like a vise.
The pressure of her drawn-out orgasm knocked me over the edge with a blinding light behind my eyes.
My labored breathing matched hers as I rode the aftershocks, spilling inside of her cunt as she continued shaking.
She didn’t seem to mind when I collapsed on top of her, bodies still joined.
I panted into her neck, and she ran her nails over my scalp, playing with the short hairs at the back of my neck.
We remained connected, entwined, for so long we might have slipped in and out of consciousness a few times.
Eventually, I woke up with her tucked into my chest, one leg over my hip as we embraced on the couch.
I was practically folded around her, enveloping her in the security of my body.
When Helen woke, the sun was drifting toward the horizon again.
She didn’t argue when I carried her into the spacious suite bathroom and filled the jacuzzi tub.
She didn’t fight me when I joined her in the warm, bubbly water and washed her body.
The little moans that escaped her when I washed her hair made my heart soar into my throat.
A powerful, dangerous woman, yet she was soft with me, allowing me to take care of her.
Determined to return the favor, Helen washed my hair, and I almost melted from her nails on my scalp.
She soaped up my arms and chest, then climbed over my legs and sank onto my cock again.
Slick with soap, her skin slipped against mine as she rode me, driving us to mutual completion.
And I repeated my love for her like a prayer all the while.
I cleaned the shallow wounds on her skin from her ordeal. She pouted and begrudgingly let me put bandages on her. Wrapped in a fluffy hotel towel, she devoured dinner from room service. I felt floaty and light seeing how she came back to life. Eyes bright, hair shiny, skin golden once more.
When she woke in the middle of the night, shaking from nightmares, I let her use my body again.
Finding myself needing to reassure my own lingering fears just as much as she needed me to chase away her dreams. She wasn’t broken, but she needed time to heal.
And I would be there with her at every step, adoring her, worshiping her, loving her.
Whatever vital thing I’d broken in us ten years ago slotted back into place, gradually filling the cracks and gluing us back together.
Helen would never need to wait, doubt, or look back in search of me ever again.
For the rest of our lives, I would be right by her side, where I was always meant to be.