Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Luna
My body came awake long before the rest of me, and now I’m straddling this gorgeous hunk of man who wants to make more than love with me. The odds are against me, but there is still a chance that we’ll conceive today. Right now. I don’t even know if I’m ovulating.
It’s a little overwhelming but for some reason, I’m not afraid.
Not with Elliott.
He’s strong and kind and capable.
I know he’ll make a good father, even if things don’t work out between us personally.
Except I want it to work out.
More than anything I’ve ever wanted with anyone.
Maybe that’s the issue, the reason I’ve been content to let things move at a snail’s pace.
But that stops now.
With our lips locked together, and his big hands all over me, my body seems to have a mind of its own. I feel his erection—and it’s massive—between my legs but he still doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. Like he’s waiting for me to take the lead for our first time.
His caution and obvious concern for my comfort and safety takes everything I’m already beginning to feel to another level. This isn’t about a baby anymore. There’s an intimacy between us that goes beyond being naked together, about to make love.
“What are you thinking about with so much emotion in your eyes?” he asks gruffly, one hand still toying with my nipple.
“You. Us. This.”
“Have you changed your mind?”
“God, no.” I rest my hands on his broad chest. “I’m just trying to savor every second of it because it feels…different.”
“Than what?”
“Every other man I’ve ever been with.”
“Because you’ve never been with me.” His eyes are blue lasers focused intently on mine.
All I can do is lean down and press my lips to his.
“Make love to me, Elliott.”
“Mmm.” He makes a sound of acquiescence, and then I feel him. Right there. Big and hard and—holy shit, he’s huge. I feel myself stretching to accommodate his girth and I let my eyes flutter closed, biting my lower lip as I focus on the feeling between my legs.
“If it’s too much, we can use lube,” he says gently. “I didn’t know we would be doing this today, or I would have brought some.”
How is he so sweet and thoughtful, even in the middle of sex?
“If we need it…I have some,” I pant, my brain starting to short-circuit as he presses deeper into me.
It’s equal parts too much and not enough, and the deeper he goes, the more uncomfortable it is—the more I want. Like I may never get enough of him.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs as he thrusts up and I sink down. “Just a little more.”
Slowly, carefully, he moves forward until—the feeling is hard to describe. If I didn’t know my anatomy pretty well, I would swear he’s about to split me in half. But he’s not. He’s warm and snug and completely seated deep inside me.
“Fuck.” I hiss out the word, wiggling on his lap to find a more comfortable position. Being on top makes the pressure almost unbearable. Yet the thought of moving away is worse.
Then he reaches out and puts those big, warm hands on my hips.
“Let me,” he says in that gruff tone that makes my insides flutter with need.
And he starts to move.
He slides in deep and then glides out slowly.
My hands are on his chest, trying to balance as his hips rise and fall.
I’ve never been with a man with so much control and it’s beautiful to watch.
He’s beautiful—in the most masculine way ever.
The way he moves. The way the muscles of his abdomen strain every time he thrusts into me.
The gorgeous intensity reflected on his handsome face.
I’ve never experienced anything quite like this.
“Tell me what you want.” His voice is low, gritty, and it’s so fucking sexy.
“More of this,” I whisper.
“You like it rough, princess?”
“With you, I do.”
His smile is devilish.
Before I know what’s happening, he’s flipped us over and I’m on my back. I don’t think he even pulled out, merely switched our positions and kept right on going. Except now his big body is covering mine, our mouths are fused together, and he’s holding both of my hands over my head in one of his.
His hips snap forward every time he pushes into me, and my legs open wider to give him better access.
If I wasn’t so completely swept up in this guy—and this moment—it probably would have been painful.
He’s impossibly big, and yet, each time he bottoms out my eyes roll back and something deep inside flutters with the need for more.
It feels like I can’t get enough, and I don’t want to.
“Your pretty little cunt was made for my cock,” he growls against my mouth. “Can you take more?”
“Yes. Please.” My voice doesn’t even sound like my own, I’m that lost in what we’re doing.
He lets go of my hands and brings his own down under my ass. Squeezing tight, he whispers, “hang on, princess.” Then he starts pounding away. There’s no finesse to it, just an animalistic rhythm that’s relentless—and exactly what I need.
I lose all sense of time and space, fingers clawing at his back as I arch my hips to take every thrust. It’s perfect in the way that something you didn’t realize you needed surpasses every possible expectation.
“Elliott!” His name escapes in a shrill cry as my insides tighten in anticipation of what’s coming. Every thrust brings me a little closer to the edge, and with the next thrust, I fall over. My body shakes with the ferocity of my orgasm, and I’m almost positive my nails have ripped into his skin.
But he doesn’t seem to notice and doesn’t slow down.
In fact, he starts moving even faster, changing the angle of his hips and hitting a spot I didn’t know existed.
My eyes roll back, my body stiffens, and the first orgasm rolls right into the next.
And another. Until it’s all a blur of pain and pleasure and the most incredible intensity of my life.
“Elliott.” This time my voice is soft, almost pleading.
“I can’t…oh God.” I’m swept away yet again just as a roar leaves him.
He pumps into me a few more times, hard and fast and—then he collapses.
His large, heavy body presses me into the mattress but it’s okay because if he moved away now, I might cry.
I want to say something, explain how I’m feeling, but I’m incapable of speech at the moment. Hell, I can barely breathe. My body is still shuddering, tiny aftershocks make me pulse against him. He’s still inside me, still thick and hard, still keeping me a willing prisoner.
“You okay?” he asks after a while, pressing soft kisses along my forehead, my eyes, my cheeks.
“Mmm. I’m wonderful.”
“I don’t think it’s scientifically accurate, but I feel like if I stay inside you for a while after we’re done, maybe we’ll have a better chance of conceiving.”
I smile. “I don’t think that’s scientifically accurate either, but it can’t hurt.”
“Nope.” He lifts himself so he can look at me. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I was rough.”
“Nooo.” I smile lazily. “It was amazing. I got off three times in a row.”
“Next time we’ll try for five.”
“That might kill me.”
“It’ll be worth it, though.”
“Mmhm.”
We lay there for a while, him on top of me, resting on one elbow and using his free hand to gently run his fingers through my hair.
I’ve never had sex where a man was able to make me come like that.
Usually, it’s all about toys and lube and me playing with my clit as the guy fucks me.
With Elliott, I don’t need anything but him.
I didn’t know it could be like this. Perfect. Uninhibited. Safe.
As if this was always meant to be.
“I like being here with you,” he whispers, nipping my earlobe.
“I like it too.”
“Do you have plans for the rest of the day?” he asks randomly.
“No. I assumed maybe we’d practice a little more baby making.”
“We can do that, but I also have outside plans. My old mentor from the UFC is in town and wants to have lunch. I’d like you to meet him.”
“Oh.” I’m surprised but also pleased. “I’d like that. Who is he?”
“You said you weren’t a big fan, but he went by Gargoyle Garth when he fought.”
“Gargoyle Garth?” I snicker. “Is he…ugly?”
“I don’t know about ugly. He’s definitely not traditionally handsome. But he was badass in the ring.”
“And he was your mentor?”
“Yeah. He fought his final fight about six months after I got involved. We were in different weight classes, plus I wasn’t ready to fight someone like him. But he gave me a lot of time, a lot of advice. It made a huge difference.”
“And you lost touch?”
“You know how it is. He retired, got married, the usual. Apparently, he lost his wife to cervical cancer and that’s why he’s planning this charity fight.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“I’m considering it,” he admits. “Would you be okay with that?”
“I’m not going to tell you not to do something you really want to do,” I say gently. “By the same token, I wouldn’t expect you to forbid me from doing things.”
“That’s fair. Although I will weigh in if I think you’re not taking care of yourself—like staying up for nearly forty-eight hours.”
“Well, number one, you were right, and number two, you didn’t order me. You gently insisted.”
“Is that the magic formula?” he asks with a soft smile. “Being gentle?”
“Approaching things because you care, as opposed to simply getting your way.”
“I’m pretty stubborn when I’m working, and I automatically take control in the bedroom, but anything I say or do will be with your best interests at heart.”
“That works for me.” I reach up and run my fingers through his damp hair. “What time is lunch?”
“Not until one.” He dips his head and kisses me again. “Which means we can go another round or two.”
“I have to shower and get ready,” I say, laughing. “So maybe one more round.”
“I can be quick.”
“Yeah? You think you can make me be quick?”
“Challenge accepted.”