Chapter 6 — Hollis Point #5
I worked her breast with my mouth, sucking, licking, rolling her nipple between my lips until her breathing shattered and her hips rolled against nothing, seeking friction she couldn’t find with my body where it was.
My hand slid down her stomach, through the dark curls between her legs, and when my fingers found her pussy, she was so wet my hand slid through her folds without resistance, hot and slick and clenching around nothing.
“Luke.” My name came out broken, raw, nothing like the confident, dirty-talking Shay from five minutes ago. “Please. I need you. I need your mouth, I need your cock, I need everything, please—”
I gave her what she asked for. My mouth on her pussy, tongue flat against her clit, and the sound she made could have brought the trees down.
Her thighs tensed around my head, her hips lifted off the blankets, and her hand fisted in my hair, holding me exactly where she wanted me while my tongue worked her toward something that felt inevitable.
“Fuck, yes, right there, don’t you dare stop, I’m so close, I’ve been close since you walked into the yard at noon, I’ve been wet for you all day, every time you looked at me, every time your hand found mine, I’ve been fucking dripping—”
She came with my name on her lips, loud and desperate and completely undone, her body clenching around nothing, back arched, breasts heaving, dark hair stuck to her forehead with sweat.
I kept my mouth on her, working her through it, feeling her pulse against my tongue in waves that made her thighs shake against my ears, and when the contractions finally eased, she collapsed back onto the blankets with a groan that vibrated through both of us.
“Jesus Christ.” Her voice was wrecked. “Okay. New plan. I live here now. This blanket, this fire, your mouth on my pussy forever. Tell the families I’m dead. It’s fine. They’ll understand.”
I kissed my way back up her body, tasting her on my lips, and when I reached her mouth, she kissed me like she was starving, one hand sliding between us to wrap around my cock, stroking me hard and firm while her hips rolled against mine.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered against my mouth.
“Now, Luke. Please. I need to feel you. All of you. I’ve waited too long, and I’m so wet, and if you make me wait one more second I'll actually die, and my ghost will haunt your model room forever, and not in a fun way, in a ‘why won’t my ectoplasm stop complaining about your refractory period’ way. ”
I positioned myself between her thighs, my cock resting against her entrance, wet and hot and so ready that the head slipped in on its own, and the sound she made, half gasp, half moan, her back arching off the blankets, nearly ended me right there.
“Wait.” I gripped her hip, my voice wrecked. “Are you sure?”
Her blue eyes held mine, firelight dancing in them, completely clear. “Sure. Sober. Wanting this. Wanting you bare, Luke. I want to feel all of you, the way Kiki felt you. I want it to be real.” Her hand found my face, fingers tracing my jaw. “Is that okay?”
It was more than okay. It was everything I wanted and nothing I’d allowed myself to hope for, and when I nodded, the relief on her face turned into something so bright it hurt to look at.
She reached between us, wrapped her hand around my cock, and guided me to her entrance. “Come on,” she whispered. “I’ve got you. I’ve always had you. Now show me what those hands can do when they’re not building tiny ships.”
I pushed into her, slow, watching her face, feeling every inch of her pussy grip me like she was trying to keep me there forever, and the world outside the firelight ceased to exist.
***
She took me inch by inch, her pussy gripping my cock with a heat that made my vision blur, and when I bottomed out, buried to the hilt inside her, the sound she made, raw, broken, nothing like the confident Shay from five minutes ago, went straight through my chest and lodged somewhere behind my sternum where it lived now, permanent, hers.
“God,” she whispered, her forehead dropping to mine, her breath coming in short, shaky bursts. “You’re everywhere. I can feel you everywhere, Luke. Every fucking inch.”
I held still, letting her adjust, my hands on her hips, thumbs tracing the sharp curve of her pelvis where it met the softness of her stomach.
She was so tight, so wet, her inner walls pulsing around my shaft in slow, lazy contractions that made my balls ache and my jaw clench.
Firelight painted her body in gold and shadow, the full, heavy weight of her breasts swaying with each ragged breath, the tight muscles of her stomach quivering, the dark spill of her hair against her shoulders, and the sight of her, taking me, wanting me, undone by the simple fact of my cock inside her, turned my brain to static.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay. I’m good. I’m so good. You can move. Please move. If you don’t move in the next three seconds I'll literally combust, and not in the fun way, in the ‘spontaneous human combustion, very messy, very tragic, local news at eleven’ way.”
I laughed, the sound rusty and surprised, and she grinned against my mouth before kissing me hard, her tongue against mine, her hips rolling in a slow, experimental grind that dragged a groan out of me so deep it hurt.
“Like that?” she whispered.
“Like that. Exactly like that.”
She found her rhythm. Slow at first, rising up until just the head remained inside her, then sinking back down with a roll of her hips that made her breasts bounce and my hands tighten on her ass.
Each descent dragged a sound out of me, low and involuntary, and she watched my face with that pleased, proprietary expression that said she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
“Your face,” she said, her voice rough with want.
“God, your face. You look like you’re being electrocuted in slow motion.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m taking a mental picture.
Filing it under ‘things to think about when I’m ninety and you’re still fucking me on this blanket because we’re those gross old people who won’t quit. ’”
I cupped her breast, feeling the weight of it in my palm, thumb circling her nipple until she moaned and her rhythm faltered. “Less talking. More fucking.”
“Yes, sir. Bossy Luke. I like him. He’s new.
Very directive. Very in charge. Very—oh fuck—” Her words dissolved into a gasp as I thrust up into her, driving deeper than she’d taken me on her downstroke, and the sound she made turned into a laugh that vibrated against my chest. “Okay.
Point taken. More fucking. Talking optional.
Though I make no promises. My mouth and my pussy operate on separate systems, and historically, they don't coordinate.”
She picked up her pace, riding me harder, her thighs clamping around my hips, her pussy gripping my cock with each downward stroke in a way that made my vision white at the edges.
My hands found her ass, fingers digging into the firm, round muscle, pulling her against me on each thrust, and the wet sound of our bodies meeting filled the clearing alongside the crackle of the fire and the distant lap of lake water against stone.
“Harder,” she gasped against my mouth. “Please, Luke, harder, I can take it, I want it, give me everything—”
I drove into her, losing the careful control I’d been clinging to, my hips meeting hers with a force that made her cry out and her nails dig into my shoulders.
Her breasts bounced with each thrust, heavy and full, nipples tight, and when I leaned forward to take one in my mouth, sucking hard, she came with a shout that echoed off the trees, her pussy clenching around my cock in pulses I could feel in my balls, her body shaking, back arched, dark hair flying.
“Fuck, Luke, don’t stop, I’m still coming, oh God, don’t you dare stop—”
I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Her orgasm milked my cock, her inner walls gripping me in rhythmic contractions that drove me higher, harder, and when she collapsed against my chest, breathless and laughing, I rolled us.
One motion, her under me on the blankets, my body covering hers, and I drove into her deep, once, twice, finding an angle that made her eyes go wide and her mouth fall open on a gasp I felt against my neck.
“Right there,” she whispered. “Right there, don’t move, oh fuck, right there—”
I held still, buried to the hilt, and let her grind against me, her pussy milking my cock from the inside while her hips rolled in desperate, chasing circles.
Her hand found my face, fingers framing my jaw, and the look in her eyes, firelight and want and something so tender it made my chest ache, undid me completely.
“I love you,” she said, and the words came out steady, clear, nothing performative about them.
“I’ve loved you for so long, Luke. So long.
And I know it’s messy, and I know it’s complicated, and I know there are five other women who love you too, and I don’t care.
I don’t care about any of it. I just care that you’re here, and you’re mine right now, and you’re so deep inside me I can feel you in my ribs, and that's enough. That's everything.”
Something cracked open in my chest. Not pain.
Something warmer, heavier, the weight of a truth I’d been circling all summer finally landing where it belonged.
I kissed her, hard, my tongue against hers, my hips driving into her with a rhythm that had lost all pretense of control, and when she wrapped her legs around my waist, heels digging into the small of my back, I felt the pleasure build in my cock like a wave I couldn’t outrun.
“Shay.” Her name came out rough, half warning, half plea. “I’m close. Really close. I’m about to come inside you, and if you want me to pull out—”