Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
Bennett
I can’t remember a time when I felt this content. And it’s not just because I’m face-deep in Efa’s pussy right now, although that’s part of it.
Being with her feels like a kind of right I didn’t know existed. Being close to her feels like home. Holding her hand makes me feel like I belong to some exclusive club of two that no one else can possibly imagine. Just the scent of her brings to mind playfulness, like summer peaches and water fountains. She brings levity to my life that I didn’t realize I needed. Not that she’s not serious. She is. She’s clever and insightful and completely and utterly unafraid. I not only love her, but I respect her, I revere her. I worship this woman. She. Is. Everything.
She bucks off the sofa and shudders beneath me.
It’s not just a deep sense of satisfaction I feel at making her come, it’s also the utter bliss at the thought I’m going to be doing that for the rest of our lives.
I get to taste her forever.
I get to have her forever.
I get to love her forever.
I take the rest of my clothes off, lift her from the sofa and carry her into the bedroom. She should be comfortable. We have a long night ahead of us. It’s the start of a long life together.
She pulls at my shoulders.
“I want you close.”
I close my eyes in a long blink, savoring her words. I want her close too.
I move over her and press a kiss to her lips. Instantly she deepens it, pressing her tongue against mine, tasting and teasing. Her hand slides up my side and my skin sheets in goose bumps. How can just a simple touch from her have such a huge effect on me?
I settle over her, our hips locked together, my length against her, waiting while we touch and taste. I dip and take a nipple into my mouth, sucking and pulling and grazing my teeth against her as she moans, circling her hips, wanting more but everything just as it is as well.
I understand what she’s feeling because I’m feeling it too: need.
“I don’t want to get pregnant,” she says, panic in her tone.
I pause and gaze at her. “Ever?” I ask. We haven’t had these fundamental conversations, but it doesn’t matter, because I want everything she wants. I want her to be happy.
“Yet. And for a few years.”
“Okay,” I say.
“But we need condoms,” she says. “Lot and lots of condoms.”
I smirk. “We have enough. We can get more.”
“You might have to buy a condom factory.”
“I’ll buy a condom factory,” I reassure her.
She nods, like an imminent condom shortage has been a serious concern to her.
I reach across to the nightstand and grab a condom from my wallet.
“Condom,” I say, holding it up.
“Bennett,” she cries out. “Please. Quickly.”
I clench my jaw at her impatience. It’s like she’s going to boil over if I don’t get inside her as quickly as possible. Sheathed, I press my crown over her folds. I’m not sure if I’m teasing her or torturing myself. She just feels so good.
“You ready?” I ask. I’m a dick for teasing her. She’s so wet, her body is vibrating with yearning. She’s more than ready and she knows I know.
She twists her hips, trying to get closer, but I pull back. This time it’s not to tease. This time it’s to steady myself. To prepare for the feeling of her around me.
But it’s hopeless.
When I push into her, the delicious clench of her makes me dizzy with desire. With one simple movement, I’m so close to the edge, I need to focus on her fingernails digging into my back to keep me from falling.
Her breathy whimpers don’t help.
“It’s so much,” she cries out, and I close my eyes, trying to wrestle some control back.
I start to move and groan. The pull, the drag, the grip she has around me. In every way, it’s more than I’ve ever known. My pulse pounds in my ears. Heat turns to sweat across my brow and down my back but I don’t stop, I can’t stop.
We move together, hip to hip, mouth to tongue, fingers to flesh. It’s physical, but it’s a beginning, a ceremony at the start of something.
“Fuck, Efa,” I choke out.
“I’m here,” she says, her fingers in my hair.
Those words are what finally tip me over the edge and I know there’s no going back. My vision flashes white and I feel her orgasm shatter through her as mine races through me, pulling the air from my lungs and the strength from my hands.
“I need more,” she says, still fighting for breath. “More of you.” Her delicate fingers push at my shoulders, and from somewhere I find the energy to roll from where I’m lying on top of her to the side.
She arranges herself so she’s astride me and pulls her hair up behind her, before letting it fall over her shoulders again. Her breasts rise and fall and I reach for them, teasing her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, my dick already hardening at the show I’m getting.
She’s like a fucking wet dream come to life.
Moving her hips, she slides her folds down my dick, bringing life to me again.
Her eyes slide to mine. “Again,” she says. It might be the sexiest thing she’s ever said to me.
I’m not about to start disappointing my soon-to-be wife.
“So greedy.”
She lifts her chin. “Fuck me, Bennett.”
She doesn’t have to ask me again.
I lift her up and off me, arranging her legs over the side of the bed. I stand behind her and press her down. I slide a new condom on and push into her. Quickly this time, without waiting. If my woman wants to get fucked, then who am I to deny her.
I thrust into her and the force of my movement pushes her down onto the bed.
“Ass up,” I say. She complies and moves back so I can hook my fingers under her hips and thrust again.
And again.
And again.
“You’re going to be sore tomorrow,” I say matter-of-factly. “I’m going to have you so many times tonight, you’re not going to be able to stand.”
Her hands grip the bedcovers and her breaths come heavy.
I dip under her hips and my fingers find her clit. She lets out a muffled scream.
But I don’t want her stopping herself from making all the noise she wants.
I push harder and deeper and circle around and around. She reaches back for my arm, and I can’t tell if she’s trying to stop me or she just needs to feel me.
“Bennett,” she cries out. “Bennett.”
My name on her lips when she’s at her most vulnerable, when she’s on the edge of climax like this, has me spiraling into bliss.
I’m the luckiest man alive to have this woman under me, screaming my name. My orgasm rumbles in the distance and I can’t stop. Don’t want to. Efa comes apart under me, in my hands, and I shove into her one final time, my head back, her name ripped from my throat in celebration.
Like I said: I’m the luckiest man alive.