Chapter 19 #3
He hears it and kisses my mouth. He doesn’t ask if I’m okay. He knows. He knows exactly. He sits up on his knees between my legs and hooks his thumb into the waistband of his boxers. He pulls them down and kicks them off the side of the bed.
I look at him.
He’s — I’m speechless.
He picks up the foil packet and rips it open. He rolls the condom on himself, and I watch as excitement and nerves roll through my body.
He leans over me, pressing his weight into me with just enough contact to make me moan. He looks at me with blue eyes so soft that it makes my chest ache.
“Tell me if you need me to stop. Tell me anything.”
I nod.
He kisses me.
He kisses me slow.
Then he grabs his dick and aims for my entrance, shifting forward.
I feel him start to enter, and he kisses me into it. I gasp into his mouth — a sharp small sound — and my hands fly to his shoulders, gripping, holding on.
He stills completely. His forehead against mine. His breath stopped.
“Melly?”
“I’m okay.”
I’m crying. I don’t know when I started crying again, but quiet tears just slipping down the sides of my face into my hair. Not from pain. From everything else.
“You sure?”
“Yes.” A small laugh-cry. “Yes.”
“I can —”
“Blue. Keep going. Please. You feel really good.”
He huffs into my mouth. He kisses the corner of my eye where a tear is.
He moves.
The first thrust is a little fumbled. It’s all too much.
The sensation of him inside me is strong, so I squirmy, and my knee bumps his hip.
My elbow hits his ribs. The emotions in my chest are so thick that I’m not thinking clearly.
All I can think about is the way he feels inside of me.
His tongue in my mouth, his dick pressing into me, and how I’ve thought about this moment for years and years of my life.
Every time I touched myself, every time I slept with Chase, every time I had a sex dream; my mind was always on Blue.
The pleasure coursing through my body is a high that I’ve never experienced before.
It’s one thing to have sex, but to have it with someone I’ve always loved wholeheartedly, and he loves me back, is something else entirely.
I don’t think life gets any better than this.
My body can’t take the amount of sparks flying, so I bump him again but with my head this time on his nose.
“I’m sorry,” I peep out, mortified. But I slightly forget what I’m sorry for when he readjusts himself and hits a spot deep inside of me that makes me moan.
He huffs once into my shoulder and stops moving, and we both laugh against each other’s mouths. My mind zooms back out of the moment. And I rub his face where my forehead hit.
“Are you okay?”
I nod quickly with my hands on his face.
“Yeah,” I moan quietly, adjusting him against me. “It feels…” I let my head fall on the pillow and arch my back. So good I can’t even form words or think straight.
He says softly with his lips against my ear, “Let me know if it’s too much.”
“It’s all too much,” I admit, “but in a good way.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod quickly again, desperate to feel him move.
He kisses my temple. He kisses my cheek. He kisses my ear, and he leaves his mouth there, breathing me in.
He moves, and I grip onto his shoulders, trying to keep my voice down. But he feels so out of this world, I’m not sure I’m being quiet at all.
He finds a good rhythm. He’s kissing me through the moving of it — small soft kisses on my mouth, on my temple, on the side of my jaw. He’s whispering my name into my hair.
“Melly, baby.”
My chest blooms with warmth at the sound of his voice.
“You’re being too loud,” he whispers. “Everyone’s downstairs.”
I’m too far gone to care who’s downstairs. I mutter, “Then cover my mouth.”
He places his large over my mouth, and I moan louder. It’s muffled now. He thrusts faster against me. I feel like I’m putting a dent into his bed.
Then he slows down and removes his hand. “You okay?”
I gasp for air and nod. “Yes.” I let my head fall into his pillow as I inhale his scent. “I’m more than okay.”
He kisses me.
He moves slower for a second. Then faster.
Then slower. He’s taking his time, and the taking-his-time is its own kind of devotion.
He isn’t racing toward the end. He’s staying inside the middle.
He’s staying inside us. He’s holding me here, holding this, like he wants to live in the middle of it forever.
I move with him once my body learns how to hold this amount of pleasure.
I find his rhythm, and I move with it. I put my hand on the back of his head.
My other hand is flat against the small of his back, and I can feel the muscle move under my palm, the careful coiled strength of him, and it makes my breath stutter.
He shivers when I hold him tighter. He kisses me harder and breathes my name.
“You feel —”
He stills completely. He drops his forehead to mine and takes a deep breath.
I breathe with him. My center is shooting off signals through my body now that he’s stopped moving. He sits in me, and I feel myself get wetter. I can feel my own pulse where we’re joined. I can feel his.
His eyes stare into mine. His hand comes up to my face. “I love this,” he says.
I pant against him.
“I could fuck you forever.”
The tangle of emotions in my chest straighten themselves out into fine straight lines.
“Blue,” I whimper.
He nods. “I could never get enough of you.”
I pull him into a hug. He hugs me back.
He moves again.
It’s faster now.
The body’s taking over. His mouth. His breath. His hand. His back under my hand. The small soft sounds he’s making at the base of his throat. My name in his mouth.
My hand fists in his hair. My back arches off the mattress.
The thread in my belly’s pulling tight, tighter, tighter, and my breath’s coming in short hot gasps I can’t control, and I’m making sounds I don’t recognize — small whimpers, half-words, the start of his name and then nothing because I can’t finish it.
He’s kissing me everywhere he can reach.
His hand has moved to my hip. He’s holding me through it.
I’m not thinking in sentences anymore.
I’m thinking in Blue.
I’m thinking in his mouth on my collarbone. In his breath on my neck. In the small soft repetition of my name. He says my name like a prayer.
I find the edge.
I find it before he does.
The thread pulls so tight it snaps, and it hits me the way I’ve seen in movies, and I’m not ready for the actual hit — the actual hit is bigger, hotter, more, a wave that breaks through my whole body at once and turns my legs to water and my breath to a single high broken sound against his mouth.
Blue is holding me through it. His arm is tight under my back.
His forehead is pressed to mine. His name on my mouth before I even know I’m saying it.
I fall apart beneath him.
He’s right behind me.
His hand tightens on my hip. His face drops into my neck. He breathes my name against my throat one more time. Mel. Half a word. All breath. Then he goes still.
He stays still for a long time.
His breath’s hot on my collarbone. I can feel his heart hammering against my ribs.
I have my arms around his back. The room’s quiet. Neither of us moves.
I’m so embarrassed, but tears start coming out of my eyes.
The aftermath emotion of what we just did is tearing my heart open.
And it’s weird because I’m not sad. I’ve never been less sad.
I’m full. That’s the word. Full. Like every empty place in me from wanting this man has been filled up at once, and the only place for the overflow is out of my eyes.
He lifts his head and looks at me. Worry immediately finds his brow.
“What’s wrong?”
I laugh through the tears. I wipe away the tears, trying not to mess up my makeup. “I’m just so happy.”
He smiles, and my world crumbles again. I kiss his teeth, and then I kiss him again because I want more. I need more of him.