Chapter 28 #2
Before I can utter my next words, he grabs my waist, fingers digging into my belly and slides into me in one smooth stroke.
This isn’t hard and fast, no, he takes his time as he almost completely pulls out of me, and in the next second fills me to the hilt.
His thrusts make my eyes roll back, and I shudder as I moan, “Oh, Clint. So so good.” He does it again and again until I’m calling out his name.
My body lights up like a fireworks show, and it feels as if it hasn't been seven years, as if it has always been him and me.
He thrusts into me again, and my mouth drops open as he adjusts his angle, hitting a new spot and making my body shiver right down to my toes.
His rough hands grip my hips, and his firmness mixed with his slow strokes shuttles me over the edge.
His velvet voice is more growl as he leans down, whispering against the shell of my ear, “So fucking stunning and all”—thrust—“fucking”—thrust—“mine.” On the last word, he pistons into me.
Even the heavy pour of the water can’t mute the slapping of our skin as he pounds into me.
Another orgasm is already building. What the fuck?
“I’m going to ring one more orgasm from this perfect fucking body of yours, then you are going to let me clean us up so I can feed you.”
“Yes, yes, Clinton. I want that.”
“I know you do, Dove.” My jaw slackens as he uses my hips as leverage and plunges deeper into me, hitting that perfect spot as he does.
“You feel so fucking tight, so mine, Dove.” Clinton’s dirty talk has goose bumps rising over my skin.
“Touch your clit for me...show me how much you want to come.” Sliding my hand down my body, I find my sensitive center and pinch my clit between my fingers, slowly rubbing my hand up and down.
The pressure from my fingers and Clinton pounding into me is almost too much, but it feels far too good to stop.
“Clinton,” I whimper, not sure of what I need but knowing that my release is building.
“Let go, baby, I’ve got you,” he groans. “You’re so perfect. Taking me so well.”
“Please, I can’t.”
“You can, Dove.” His voice is husky as his dick rubs against that spot again, hitting it over and over as I play with myself.
“Oh my God. Oh m-my G–Clinton!” I scream my release, stars glowing behind my eyes as my body hums. I don’t have to wonder what Clint is thinking because he’s lost in our shared climax. He holds me while I get a steady footing, his chest heaving against my back.
“You’re perfect. So incredibly perfect.” His voice is soft, as if he meant to think it rather than say it out loud. He trails open-mouth kisses over my neck. Clinton moves then, grabbing the washcloth to bathe me, a satisfied smile clear on his handsome face.
“Come here, Paloma. Let me take care of you.”
He washes me thoroughly, even re-conditions my hair. Working the leave-in conditioner into my hair as he works it through each curl, creating chunky ringlets.
“I’m surprised you have leave-in,” I say, enjoying his fingers caressing my scalp.
He chuckles under his breath before responding, “My mama taught me right. Always take care of yourself and that includes my hair.”
The thought of him sitting with a hair mask on flits through my mind, and it's hot, in the way only Clint can be hot. “You enjoying this, handsome?” I ask him, wanting to know if he is enjoying our shared experience as much as I am.
“Of course I am. Taking care of you is always going to be my pleasure.”
“Always?”
“Every single day with you is a gift to me.” He tugs on my hair playfully and quickly kisses me.
I watch his muscled ass flex as he turns the water off and exits the shower.
Grabbing a fluffy, white robe from his towel warmer, he opens it wide, and I pause, unsure if his robe is even going to fit me.
Clinton notices my hesitation. “What’s wrong? ”
“Is your robe going to fit me?” It's always been a struggle to find towels that close around my wide hips, and I do not plan on squeezing into a too-small robe.
“I got this one special for you, Dove.” Trusting him, I eagerly step into what feels like a warm cloud, loving the fact that it wraps fully around my body.
I tie the belt, stand on my tiptoes, and press my lips to his before pointing at the warmer. “That thing is incredible, and I absolutely need to get one for my place.”
He chuckles, and we both exit the bathroom, him grabbing underwear and sweats for himself before handing me a new pair of his boxers with a T-shirt.
Laughing, I turn to him. “You know, it’s always so sexy when the girls wear their boyfriend’s shirts, but this one isn’t giving the same energy.” Though it’s slightly longer because of his height, it fits snug around my hips and breasts.
“Looks perfect to me.” He shrugs, heated desire swirling in his gaze. Giving my ample booty a love tap, Clint continues, “I’m not letting you tempt me into not feeding you. In the kitchen we go.”
He taps the counter, and I hop up, watching him open his lower cabinets. The more ingredients he pulls from the pantry, the more excited I become. He reaches under the counter for one more item, and I lose it. “You’re making me waffles?”
I slide off the counter, excitement and hunger battling inside of me. He mixes together the flour, eggs, baking soda, and vanilla, but what is going to make this really fucking good is the buttermilk he pours in. I may just have to marry this man.
Rubbing butter into the hot crevices of the waffle maker, he says, “That’s my master plan.” He taps my nose with a bit of flour, and I am in shock. I can’t believe I said it out loud.
“Can I help?”
“Sure, Dove, come on over. You can pour the batter in as I get started on the bacon.”