Chapter 43 #2
“Kit,” he groans as she does it again, her hand circling the base of his cock and squeezing as she tugs upwards and takes him more fully into her mouth.
It’s everything, the warm heat of her mouth sliding over him.
He feels like he’s floating somewhere, the only thing he feels is the pleasure radiating throughout his body from her mouth and her tongue lightly pressing against him as she moves up and down his cock.
He tangles his hands in her hair, tries to keep himself from pressing his hips up into her mouth and making her gag, but he can’t help it — accidentally loses it when she squeezes the base of his cock again. She pulls away, coughing. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Kit, I’m so —”
“Stop,” she says, pressing him down, her hands traveling up the length of his body as she leans over him again, resuming, and he thinks this woman is unreal.
And yet she’s here over him, worshiping him like he is something to her, her lips moving along him as he tries to keep himself together, the desire building within him threatening to explode with every bob of her head.
And he is something to her; she said it herself.
She loves him. It threatens to shatter him, the memory of those words, almost more than anything she’s doing, and he can feel himself on the edge and about to sail over it.
“Kit, I’m going to — Kit.” He’s trying to warn her, but she maintains her position, her mouth firmly around him as she palms his balls again. He’s too strung out, swept up in his own desire as he tightens his grip in her hair, holding her over him as he comes into her mouth.
She swallows and swallows, milking him until his limbs feel like jelly.
She pulls away, wiping the back of her mouth with her hand and kissing her way back up his body, back to that spot just beneath his ear.
She places a kiss there and he sighs, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close to him.
“Thank you,” he says, and she laughs.
“You taste so fucking good,” she whispers into his ear, her mouth at his earlobe again. Her words go directly to his cock again. This woman is going to be his undoing.
“Kit,” Task says, staring up at her ceiling, trying to get a handle on himself. “You can’t say shit like that to me.”
“Too bad,” she says, and he can almost feel her shrug, her lips curled into a little half-smile.
He runs a hand underneath her silk tank, tracing her spine with his fingertips and she shivers, pressing her face into his neck.
“Take this off,” he commands, quietly, his hands tugging at the hem.
She pulls back from him, tosses the offending garment over her head and lays back down, staring at him.
He runs his hand along her side, over her stomach, up her sternum, and her breath hitches like his touch is setting her on fire.
He watches her as he runs a hand over her breast, cupping it, pinching the pert pink nipple between his fingertips as she gasps. “Task.”
“Let me do this for you, love,” he says. Her eyes flutter shut as he brings his other hand to her chest, rolls her breasts between them. He’s in awe of her, can’t believe he’s allowed to touch her like this.
He leans forward, pressing a kiss to her lips, and then sliding his mouth down her neck, across her collarbone, lower.
He sucks one of her nipples into his mouth, his hand still kneading at her breast as bites down gently on it and she lets out the most indulgent sound he’s ever heard.
His other hand finds the edge of her shorts, and he wonders where she found this little number, this thing that he would have given anything to see her in before right now.
He slides his fingers underneath them, working his way toward her center, laving her tits with his tongue.
She’s squirming beneath him, and he pulls her panties aside, running his fingers through her and she whimpers, bucking under him as she lets her legs fall open.
He chuckles softly, moving his lips back up to hers, capturing her mouth with his own and sliding a finger inside of her while rubbing her clit with his thumb.
Her hands are at the nape of his neck, moving over his biceps, tracing the scar along his back, and he can’t believe this is how it could be.
What he’s been missing all this time. The sheer pleasure of it.
He pumps his fingers in and out of her and she presses back into him, urging him deeper. Her shorts are in the way, and he needs to get rid of them. “Hold on, love,” he says, at the same time she pants, “Don’t you dare stop.”
He smirks at her, pulls off her shorts and panties and runs his tongue across his lips.
He takes her in, and he still cannot believe his luck to have her naked beneath him.
He presses her legs open further, runs his fingers through her again and feels how wet she is, doesn’t bother warning her before he presses three fingers into her and she arches into him, squeezing her eyes shut. “You like that?”
“Fuck, yes,” she gasps, and the words go directly to his cock.
Seeing her like this, coming apart under his hands, totally naked and gasping, is almost too much to bear.
He needs to be inside of her, needs to feel her around him.
He presses his thumb into her clit again, and she cries out, pulling him down on top of her, threading her hands through his hair as she kisses him, hard, all teeth and lips and heat.
He slides his fingers out of her, grips her hip as she wraps a leg around him.
“Please,” she whines, fingers trailing along his thigh, feeling for his cock, bringing it to her entrance.
A tiny movement and he could be fully sheathed in her, but he pauses, staring down at her, breathing heavily.
“I fucking love you, Kit,” he murmurs. “So much.” It feels like his heart might explode in this moment, like the affection he has for her is too big for the universe, like he can’t contain it all.
“I love you too, major,” she breathes. “Now get inside of me.”
He obliges, sliding into her and she wraps her other leg around him, heels pressing into his ass.
She coaxes him forward and the sensation is too much, the way she’s tight all around him.
He grunts as he moves, bracing his hands on either side of her head as he sinks into her.
He can feel his pulse throbbing at the base of his neck, and being with her like this, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it.
She whimpers as he pulls out and plunges back into her, wrapping her hands around his biceps so tightly he can feel her nails leaving marks on him.
“Task, oh my — fuck,” she swears as he readjusts his position, tilts her hips so he can drive into her from a different angle.
He watches himself slide into her, slide out.
He’s so turned on at the sight that he’s not sure how much longer he can hold out.
He grips her hips, slides out of her completely, leaving her a panting mess on his bed.
She tugs him back towards her, whining, “Task!”
“Turn over, love,” he says.
She rolls over to her stomach, and he nudges her knees open with his own.
“Wider.” His breath fans across her back, her neck, and he sees goosebumps rise on her skin, a shiver roil through her.
She leans on her forearms, trembling, her perfect ass in the air, everything on display for him and he bites down on his lip, hard, needing to keep it together.
“You’re fucking gorgeous like this,” he gasps out, arranging himself behind her, tugging her towards him as he lines himself up behind her and presses into her.
This angle is better, so much deeper than when he had her on her back.
She whimpers again, swears under her breath as he grips her hips, pulls out a bit and slides back in.
“Faster, Task,” she says, and she doesn’t have to ask him twice. Not when he’s this far gone, drunk on everything about her. He pumps in and out of her, reaching around and kneading her breast as he holds her against him. Their hips slap together and she cries out. “Oh my gods.”
“Only me, love,” Task growls, dragging her back onto him, feeling something building inside of him.
He’s not going to make it much longer, can almost taste the impending orgasm on his tongue as he reaches around her hip, rubs his fingers in circles around her clit.
She’s writhing against him, shoving her ass back as he pounds into her.
She looks over her shoulder at him, her eyes hooded, mouth slightly open, panting as he rubs her harder, feeling how wet she is and that’s it — he can’t hold on anymore.
He grunts, emptying into her, panting out “I love you” over and over.
He touches her until she’s gasping, shaking on her forearms, clenching around him again and again until she’s finished, collapsing onto the bed in front of him, a puddle of wavy hair and limbs.
He withdraws from her, leaning forward to place a kiss on her sweaty shoulder, wanting to stay here with her forever. He doesn’t want to forget this moment, how it feels to be adored. “I love you,” he murmurs again, wanting her to know how much he means it, wanting her to hold on to it.