Chapter 9 #2
My tongue spears into her, fucking her in deep, slow strokes while my thumb circles her clit.
She’s writhing beneath me, her moans filling the room, her thighs trembling.
I hum against her, the sound making her clench around my tongue, and then I suck her clit between my lips, applying just the right pressure…
“Nick!”
She comes with a cry, her back arching, her pussy flooding my mouth with her release. I drink her down. I slowly lick her through her release, even though my cock throbs with the need to be inside her.
But not yet.
I pull back and look at her. She’s flushed, hair a mess, lips bitten red. She’s perfect.
“Again,” I command, my voice rough. “Come for me again, darlin’.”
She whines, but I don’t give her a choice. I drag two fingers through her wetness, then push them inside her, curling them just right. Her walls clamp down around me, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
“That’s it,” I growl. “Take what I give you.”
I add a third finger, stretching her, preparing her, my thumb still working her clit in tight circles. She’s so tight, so hot, her inner walls fluttering around my fingers as I fuck her with them, my free hand gripping her hip to hold her still.
“Nick, please.”
“Not yet,” I say, my mouth finding her thigh, biting down just enough to make her jerk. “You come first. Always.”
And then she’s there, her body locking up, her cry muffled against her own hand as she comes again, her release soaking my fingers, her thighs shaking.
I pull my fingers free, bringing them to my mouth. Her eyes are glazed as she watches me lick them clean, her taste exploding on my tongue.
“Delicious,” I whisper.
Then I’m on my feet, scooping her up into my arms. She wraps her arms around my neck, her forehead pressing to mine.
“Bed,” she pants. “Now.”
I don’t argue.
I carry her to the bedroom, the firelight casting long shadows across the walls.
The wards pulse brighter as I pass, sensing my intent, my need.
They hum in approval. Mine. The thought is primal, possessive.
I lay Samantha down on the bed with reverence, my hands trembling.
Not from nerves, but from the sheer weight of this moment.
She watches me with dark, heavy-lidded eyes as I strip. My shirt first, then my pants, my cock springing free, thick and flushed and aching for her. Her breath hitches when she sees me, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
“Still like what you see?” I ask, my voice rough.
She nods, her gaze raking over me. “I've never stopped thinking about you like this.”
I crawl onto the bed, hovering over her, my hands bracketing her head. Her belly is a warm, heavy presence between us, the baby shifting restlessly.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I say, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, then her collarbone. “Tell me to stop, and I stop.”
Samantha’s fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me down until our mouths crash together. She kisses me hard, her teeth nipping at my lower lip. “Don’t you dare stop.”
I position her onto her side, ensuring her comfort, and slide in behind her.
A groan escapes me as I feel my control start to slip away. My hand slides down her body, over the curve of her hip, her thigh, until I find her again. She's wet, swollen, ready. I tease her entrance with my fingers, gathering her arousal, then press the head of my cock against her.
"Nick," she whispers, her nails scraping against my back. “Please. You're making me crazy.”
I push in slowly, inch by inch, my jaw clenched against the overwhelming need to bury myself to the hilt. She’s so tight, her body stretching to accommodate me, her walls fluttering around my cock like she’s trying to pull me deeper.
“Fuck, Samantha,” I grit out, burying my face in her neck. “You feel perfect.”
She whimpers. “More.”
I give her more.
I sink into her fully, bottoming out, my balls pressing against her ass. The sensation is everything. There's heat, pressure, the slick grip of her pussy around me. I stay still for a moment, just breathing her in, memorizing the way she feels, the way her breath hitches when I’m buried inside her.
Then I start to move.
I set a slow, deep rhythm, my thrusts measured, my hands roaming over her body. Her breasts, her belly, her hips. She’s everywhere, all softness and warmth, her moans filling the room, her fingers clutching at my forearm like I’m the only thing keeping her anchored.
“You were made for me,” I growl against her neck, my teeth grazing her pulse point. “You feel so good around me. Such a good girl, taking me like this.”
She whines, her back arching, her nails raking down my back. “Nick, God!”
I reach around her, below her swollen belly, and find her clit. I rub slow, deliberate circles, feeling her pussy flutter around me, her breath hitching.
“That’s it,” I breathe, my lips trailing over her jaw, her cheek, her neck. “Come for me, darlin’. Let me feel you.”
She shatters with a cry, her body seizing, her pussy milking my cock as she comes. I groan, my thrusts turning erratic, my control slipping.
“Again,” I demand, my voice rough. “I want another.”
She’s still riding the waves of her first orgasm when I pull her top leg over my hip, opening her up, and then I’m pounding into her, the bed creaking beneath us, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room.
“Nick, God, please,” she gasps, her fingers digging into the sheets. “I need…”
“I know what you need,” I growl, my hand sliding under her belly, finding her clit again. I rub her in tight, relentless circles, my thrusts never faltering. “You need to come on my cock, don’t you? Let me make that sweet little pussy feel good."
She cries out, her body trembling, her release crashing over her. Her pussy clenches around me, so tight it’s almost painful, and I lose it.
I come with a roar, my hips stuttering, my cock pulsing deep inside her as I spill into her. The sensation is overwhelming. Heat, pressure, the sudden rightness of being exactly where I’m supposed to be.
For the first time in a long while, I feel whole.
We collapse together, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths. I’m still inside her, my cock softening but not slipping free. I don’t want to leave her. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Samantha’s chest rises and falls under me, her skin damp, hair wild around her face. She looks wrecked. Beautiful. Mine.
“God, Nick,” she pants, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my back.
I push up on my elbows, forehead to hers. "Did I hurt you?"
She laughs, the sound breathless and bright. “No. I’ve needed that for eight months. You’re going to need to do it again soon.” She grins, her eyes sparkling. “Pregnancy hormones are a bitch.”
I laugh and kiss her nose, then her mouth. "I’m all yours, Samantha."
And I mean it.