Chapter 39
Thirty-Nine
Storm
I’m plugging in my phone when the sound of her footsteps has me looking up.
And then nearly passing out as I take in the sight of Poppy…
In a skimpy red bikini.
No. In the skimpy red bikini.
I jolt, my phone falling out of my hand, dropping to the nightstand and then thunking to the floor a moment later.
Not that I give a fuck.
Because—
“Holy shit, baby,” I rasp.
She grins then does a slow spin. “As good as your memories?”
“Better.” It’s still a rasp, and it’s the God’s honest truth. Her tits spill out of the tiny triangles that pretend to be a top, and her ass—
God, I’ve always been an ass man, but Poppy’s is next level.
“Come here,” I order.
She grins…but doesn’t comply.
Instead, she toys with the strings on one of her hips, and I’m immediately thrust back into a memory of me tugging at them, of them coming free, of Poppy’s naked skin—
My dick twitches.
My balls ache.
“Poppyseed—”
She pauses in her rotation, glances back over her shoulder. “Yeah, honey?”
Fuck.
I need to have her like that too.
“Come here,” I order again.
But she just grins and reaches behind her, pulling at the string tied at the middle of her back.
The elastic material slowly comes loose. One inch, another, another…
Until it comes completely free, hangs down at her sides.
I try a different order. “Turn around.”
Her grin widens.
But she doesn’t listen to that either.
Instead, she tugs at the elastic tied behind her neck and the material falls to the hardwood with a soft swoosh.
I choke.
She laughs.
“Baby,” I order. “You either get that gorgeous ass over here, or I’m coming to get you.”
In answer, she just tugs at the elastic at her waist, untying one side and then the other.
That too falls to the floor.
But I barely notice because…
That ass.
And that sends the last thread of my control splintering. I push off the bed, move over to her, and—
“Storm!” she squeals when I scoop her up into my arms.
I kiss her as I carry her over to the bed, drop back onto the mattress with her on top of me.
Because I can’t let go of her ass.
Because I can’t stop kissing her.
Our lips meld and our tongues tangle, and when she kisses down my throat, I flip us, rip my shirt over my head.
Then I flip us back.
She laughs. “I feel like a pancake.”
I taste that laugh, deep and wet and long. Then I lean back and wave a hand down the length of my body. “You may continue.”
A giggle, but it’s done against my skin. And then her tongue is flicking out, dragging along my flesh as she makes her way down to my pec.
I grunt, hand fisting in her hair when she scrapes her teeth along my nipple.
“Payback,” she whispers.
“You like it,” I whisper back.
“So do you.”
I groan when she sucks, my answer stoppering up in my throat. Then groan again when she keeps kissing her way down my body, tugging at the waistband of my shorts, dragging them and my boxer briefs down.
“Mmm,” she says, wrapping her hands around my dick, stroking. “You know, you never did let me go down on you.”
“I’m certainly not going to stop you now.”
Laughter…and this time it’s on the tip of my cock.
“Fuck,” I groan.
Then I’m cursing as those plump lips part and she takes me inside.
Slick and wet. Hot and tight.
Oh…fuck. Her tongue flicks and her hand works and she pumps and sucks and—
I pull her off.
Because a few more seconds of that and it’ll be over.
“Storm,” she protests.
I respond by cupping her breast and suckling at her nipple. Her fingers weave into my hair and she writhes beneath me, legs wrapping tight, pelvis grinding.
Fuck, she’s wet.
So damned ready.
And…hell, so am I.
But this isn’t going to be flowers and candlelight and hours of me kissing every inch of her body, so I need to make this good for her.
I slide down her front, tasting curves and sensitive spots, trailing over freckles and nipping at her hip bones. Then parting her legs and getting my mouth on that delicious pussy of hers.
“I was…trying to…make it…good for you,” she puffs out, her eyes glazed as I slowly lick along the seam of her, as I dip my tongue into her opening, as I— “Storm!” she shouts.
I suck at her clit, circle the sensitive bud until she’s sopping wet and clinging to me, her hips bucking, pussy grinding against my face. “Love this cunt,” I rasp, delving deeper, licking faster, sucking harder.
“I—ah—love that you—ah—love it,” she pants.
I slip a finger inside, feel the hot, slick clamp of her.
“Can’t wait to feel this around my cock, baby.”
“Then get inside me already.”
“I want you to come first.”
“Storm,” she protests, but I just slip another finger inside, slowly drawing them in and out. “I want you.”
“Then come for me, Poppyseed. Let me feel it. Let me watch you.”
“I need you—” I nip at her clit, feel her body start to vibrate, her pussy clamp down onto me. Close. So damned close.
“Come on, baby,” I whisper, flicking out my tongue, fucking her with my fingers. “Now.”
A moan, her head falling back, her hips bucking and then…
Fucking glorious, her pussy ripples around my fingers, a gush of her desire rushing forward to coat my palm. My name tumbles off her lips, her pelvis rocks against my hand, my face and she comes apart.
Beautiful.
So damned beautiful.
As she is when her legs tumble open and she invites, “Come inside me now, honey.”
I can’t resist that, can’t resist the call of her body.
I push inside then nearly come apart right then and there. It’s…well, it’s fucking perfect, the tight clasp of her body, the heat, how her desire coats my dick.
“You feel so good,” I growl.
Her hands settle on my chest. “So do you.” A flex of her nails. “Now move,” she orders.
An easy command to follow.
I draw back, push forward into the slickness of her, bending to slant my mouth over hers as I move, as I thrust again and again. Slowly at first then faster, harder, both of our breathing going unsteady, sweat breaking out on my body, my orgasm barreling toward me with the force of a Mack truck.
“St-Storm,” she whispers, her body trembling, her pussy shuddering around me. “Harder.”
Thank fuck.
Because I don’t have any hope of holding back.
I thrust deeper, harder, faster, and—
“Oh, God!” she cries, coming apart.
And I’m right behind her, one more stroke, two, and—
I grunt as my orgasm yanks me under, as pleasure flows through every inch of my body, as my vision blacks out and my body goes limp, and—
I collapse on top of her, barely having the presence of mind to roll us to the side so I don’t crush her.
Then I stare off into space, my body content, though a question rises into my thoughts.
“Why tonight?” I ask.
“Why not?” she counters lazily.
I sigh, draw her closer. “Because I was going to give you romance, Poppyseed,” I murmur.
“And…I guess I wanted the timing to be perfect.” I tuck her hair behind her ear.
“Maybe treat you to a nice dinner before, and definitely not after a night you’ve had to work for hours and been on your feet most of the day. ”
She sits up enough for me to see the light in her pretty green eyes. “I don’t need perfect. I just need you. Just need us.”
“You have it, baby. Forever. Always.”
“Good.” She nuzzles closer. “And right now”—a yawn—“after a long day of being on my feet and a busy shift at Sully’s, and two orgasms, I think I need sleep.”
Chuckling, I draw her close, hold her tight. “I can give you that too.”
“Good.” She goes limp, settles against me, and it’s not long before she’s out.
And not long before I am too.
But it is long—hell, it is much, much longer before I wake up with her in my arms.