Chapter 25 - Laurel #2
I slapped my palms against his broad chest, curling my fingers into his skin and scraping my nails through the smattering of crisp hairs.
He smiled down at my breasts, carefully rolling my nipples between his thumbs and fingertips.
My hips raised, trapped beneath him, and he leaned down to suckle the tight nubs.
His hair was soft between my fingers as he worked his way down my front, kissing along my ribcage and dipping his tongue into my belly button. I yelped and swatted him. He looked up with a grin and kept kissing his way down.
Barely pausing at the drawstring on my pants, he dragged it loose with his teeth, slowly easing them down my hips.
I writhed and tilted my head back, unable to reach him to drag him back up.
The ceiling fan moved as languidly as he did, kissing up my inner thighs, and I watched the shadows it cast as I held my breath in anticipation.
“You should go to work without panties,” he said.
“Never,” I hissed, clamping down on my lower lip as he teased my clit with his lips.
“We’ll see,” he said.
I wasn’t about to argue and couldn’t when he pressed his tongue flat against my most sensitive spot. Arching my back, I reached for him, letting my hands slide down his shoulders as I watched him lap at me between my legs. How did I resist this for so long?
And why? It seemed like there was a good reason, but I couldn’t recall it.
“Why are you holding back?” he murmured after I was thrashing beneath him, gripping the cushions for all I was worth.
“I never want it to end,” I panted, too far gone to be embarrassed to admit it.
“We can always do it all over again. And again.”
He was right. Who would have thought I’d ever agree with him so readily? His tongue circled slowly, his fingers delved inside me, and I let out a long, urgent moan, giving in after holding on so long.
In another moment, he was up, whipping his pants off.
I moaned some more at the sight of his big cock, stiff and standing straight out as he leaned over me to kiss me, urgent and wild.
Digging my fingers into his shoulders, I pulled him down as he lifted my hips to meet that rock-hard shaft.
The tip rubbed against my slick opening, and I moaned some more.
With my legs wrapped firmly around him, he knelt and dragged me close to him, our chests touching so that I could feel his pounding heart, or maybe it was the echo of my own. I gripped his shoulders and hung on as he lowered me onto his cock.
I shuddered and closed my eyes, my head falling onto his shoulder, the urge to sink my teeth into his muscle too much to resist. He laughed and held on, raising and lowering me on his cock, going so deep I had to gasp, then making me bite him again as he pulled back.
“Sorry,” I said, kissing away the teeth marks.
“Don’t be. Do it again.”
“Oh, my God.”
But I did, clamping down as he filled me, his hands running down the backs of my thighs to tease me from behind.
I thrashed in his tight hold, pressing down hard to take every inch.
One hand shot up my back to grip my hair, yanking my head back so Mik could kiss me, his teeth raking against my lower lip.
I nipped at his in return and grabbed his face, looking into his eyes.
He nodded once. “This is… Laurel…”
He kissed me again, just what I wanted, too lost to need words. Lowering me onto my back, he quickly situated himself to plunge deep inside me again, with my legs locked around him. A throw pillow fell over my face, and with a grunt and a laugh, he whipped it away, kissing me fiercely once more.
The fever was building up in me again, and I writhed and twisted, scratching and biting wherever I could reach.
“Mik,” I moaned, barely able to pant his name.
“Now,” he answered, just as breathless.
He dropped on top of me, pumping deep, growling like a caged animal, or maybe that was me as I stifled my cry in his shoulder, my teeth buried in his firm flesh. Oh. My. God.
I was no stranger to fading off into oblivion, but not like this, in a way that made me never want to return to the real world.
I was limp beneath him, his breath warm on my neck, my legs still clasped around his waist, when I opened my eyes to see the ceiling fan still turning as if the whole world didn’t just flip on its axis.
Mik rolled against the back of the huge couch and settled me against his chest, dewy with sweat. He pushed some of my own sweaty hair off my forehead and kissed me there, dropping his head onto the pillow beside me and closing his eyes.
“I thought we might leave tonight, but the jet won’t be available until morning,” he said.
“Good,” I told him. “Because you promised we’d do this again.”
“I seem to remember that,” he told me, both of us smiling when there was a slight twitch against my thigh.
I snuggled closer to him, reaching down to take his swelling cock in a loose grip.
“You won’t have to wait long,” he said smugly.
I stroked, teasing the tip with my thumb, watching his eyes dilate. “Who says I’m in a hurry?” I asked.
He had awakened a part of me that I liked.
Maybe he created it. Someone who had teeth and claws.
Brave and wild and not thinking about the past or worrying about the future.
The shootout this morning seemed like a lifetime ago.
Tomorrow was going to be filled with sunshine and wine. Nothing mattered except now.
All I wanted was more of him. And I definitely wasn’t in any hurry.