Chapter 13 #2
“Sounds good,” he says. “Charlotte and I are just hanging out at the house tomorrow, having a lazy Monday. So, I can come over here, or you can swing by our place anytime. Whatever.”
“Okay, thanks,” I say, though I have zero intention of swinging by “anytime.”
He and Charlotte aren’t married yet, but they already suffer from newlywed syndrome.
Dropping by their place unannounced is a good way to end up stumbling upon my brother and his fiancée naked and up to no good in their vegetable garden.
Well, no good from a little sister’s perspective.
Charlotte clearly enjoys all the very bad things she and Baylor get up to together.
Against my will, my gaze slides Blue’s way, my thoughts returning to all the bad things I want to do to him.
“Later, man,” Baylor says, clasping Blue’s hand. “Good luck on that air mattress. Saw it on my way to the john. Maybe half of you is going to fit on that, if you’re lucky. I’ll bring my king-sized one for you if I can find it. For a guy your size, a full isn’t a long-term solution.”
“I’ll be fine,” Blue assures him. “Drive safe.”
“Will do.” Baylor lifts a hand my way again.
I wave.
He starts down the hall…
Blue closes the door…
And finally…
Finally…
I’m on him in seconds, tossing my crutches to the floor as I twine my arms around his neck.
“Torture,” I breathe as he lifts me into the air, guiding my legs around his hips. “That was torture.”
He groans in agreement as his tongue strokes into my mouth. He tastes like oregano, a hint of garlic, and that salty, clean Blue taste that I can’t fucking get enough of. He tastes like unspoiled wilderness, clean desert air and a hint of something earthy and fresh that I can’t quite—
“Aloe,” I murmur against his lips as he carries me down the hall, his big hands cradling my ass like a treasure.
“What’s that?” He pulls back, catching my gaze as he opens my door with his foot.
“What you taste like,” I murmur, brushing his short hair from his forehead. “It’s aloe, I think. Or maybe a hint of green banana.”
His lips quirk in surprise. “Well, that sounds okay, I guess. Better than garlic and tomato sauce.”
“You taste like that, too,” I say, smiling as he nudges the door closed behind us. “The aloe and green banana are underneath. It’s part of your base Blue taste.” I bite my lip before adding, “Same taste as your come.”
A storm sweeps into his eyes, bringing gray to hover at the edges of all that bright blue.
“I mean, I think it does,” I clarify, my nipples tingling as he carries me to the bed. “I only got a tiny taste of pre-come before we were so rudely interrupted. You should probably take your clothes off and let me get you off with my mouth to be sure I’ve nailed the flavor profile.”
He curses as he deposits me on the mattress, a rare loss of composure that I can’t help but feel proud for inspiring.
Nearly as proud as I am of inspiring that thick ridge behind his zipper…
“Clothes. Off. Now.” I reach for the bottom of his shirt, guiding it up to reveal his sculpted abs and thickly muscled chest, covered in coarse hair. I let my fingers play through the crisp strands as he tosses the shirt to the floor.
His skin is hot, feverish, but I know better than to offer to turn down the air-conditioning. This heat is coming from inside us—both of us—and there’s only one way to help it break.
As he kisses me again, slow and deep, so damned deep, I reach for the close of his pants, but he’s already fisting his hands in my dress. He drags it up and over my head, baring me to him even more completely than I was before, but I don’t feel the slightest bit shy.
The look on his face as I open the front of my bra and let the straps slide down my arms makes it obvious he’s a fan of my pregnant body.
A big fan…
“God, Bea,” he says, his voice trembling as the bulge behind his fly grows positively obscene. “I can’t believe how sexy you are.”
Holding my gaze, he reaches out, cupping my breasts, his large palms molding to the new, aching heaviness, summoning a broken moan from my throat when his thumbs brush over my nipples. They’re so sensitive, it’s almost painful, and the way he watches them tighten as he plays with me…
Watches my breath comes faster…
He makes no effort to hide how much he wants this. Neither do I. By the time his hands drop to my belly, tracing the curve from the top to just beneath my navel with a reverence that doesn’t make the touch any less electric, I’m practically panting with desire.
“I want you so much, Archer,” I whisper, my voice thick. “So much it hurts. Will you please fuck me now? Please?”
A guttural sound rips from his throat, and reverent Blue is a thing of the past. He surges over me, kissing me hard as he strips out of his jeans and boxers. I fall back on the pillows, fumbling with my panties, doing my best to squirm them down my thighs as his mouth closes over my nipple.
“God, Blue. God!” I cry out, my nails raking down his back as I arch into his tongue, moaning my appreciation as he rips my underwear the rest of the way off without missing a beat.
He moves back and forth, proving to my aching breasts that he doesn’t play favorites, until I’m about to crawl out of my skin with want. When he finally slides a hand between my legs, the sound I make is wild, primal, and far too loud.
I slap a hand over my mouth, willing myself to remember that Clover is trying to rest just a dozen feet down the hall as he pumps a finger inside me.
“You’re so tight, Bea.” He groans against my temple as I spread my legs wider in what I hope is an unmistakable invitation. “So wet, but so tight… So fucking tight. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t, God, you won’t, I promise.” I reach for his cock, huffing in frustration when my fingers can barely reach the tip. “You’re too tall. Come here. Come here and let me touch you. We’ll be fine.”
“I want better than fine,” he says, shifting up on the mattress, until I’m able to wrap my fingers around the molten length of him. “I don’t want to hurt you, not even a little bit.”
“You won’t,” I promise again, stroking him up and down. “And if you do, I’ll tell you that it’s hurting, and you can stop. But please. God, please, fuck me. Please.”
I can feel it, the second his control snaps. One moment, he’s tense, almost trembling beside me, the next, he’s between my legs, lifting my thighs up and out, until every needy inch of me is on display.
With a ragged, hungry sound, he reaches down, gripping the base of his cock and guiding it to where I’m dripping for him.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet, ever wanted anyone this much, but he’s right, I am tighter. Tighter than I was before. Either Bean is taking up more than her fair share of space, or I’m swollen from all the hormones.
Whatever’s to blame, for a moment, I’m afraid the head of him might not fit. He’s not just long, he’s thick, especially at the top. But after a moment of resistance, and a prayer to the goddess to please, please, please let me take this cock I desperately need, he pushes inside.
After that, the slide is easier, but he still goes slowly.
He thrusts deeper, inch by careful inch, his gaze locked on mine, the connection even more intimate, more erotic because of it. He never looks away, never stops penetrating me with his eyes, his longing, every bit as thoroughly as he’s penetrating me with his body.
Finally, he bottoms out with a shudder, resting his forehead against mine. “Here. Right here. This is it. This.”
And maybe that wouldn’t make sense to someone else, but it makes perfect sense to me.
“Yes,” I breathe as I wrap my legs around his waist. “Yes. Here. This. Now.”
He slides back and pushes in again, slow and careful, and it’s good.
God, it’s so good.
But it’s not what I need, not what either of us needs, a fact Blue proves when I demand, “Harder, please. Harder. I need you to fuck me hard,” and he doesn’t hesitate to give me everything.
Soon, he’s taking me with a raw urgency that has the headboard knocking out a filthy club beat against the wall. He grips my hips, his fingers digging into my skin to anchor me as he pistons deep, the speed doing nothing to reduce the delicious friction of his thickness filling every inch of me.
“Yes, yes,” I chant, fingers fisted in his hair as I kiss him, bite him, cling to him like I’m never going to let him go.
And maybe I won’t.
Maybe I’ll keep him right here, busy between my legs until the day I go into labor, because nothing has ever felt this incredible.
I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones or the time apart or just the fact that he’s Blue, the only man who’s ever made me lose myself completely in bed, but it’s even hotter than that night in his kitchen. Closer. Wilder.
The way he stretches me to my limit, the press of his stomach against my hard belly with every lunging strike.
I’m already half feral, and then Bean does something, shifts or thrashes or…something. I don’t have time to decide whether it’s strange to find the movement of my baby erotic or not; I’m too busy crying Blue’s name as I detonate.
My inner walls lock and squeeze as pleasure rolls me like a tide, making Blue’s rhythm falter and a strangled sound wrench from his throat.
His thrusts grow shorter, faster, sharp and punishing in the best possible way.
“Yes, yes,” I chant again, urging him on.
“Beatrice. Bea. God, Bea,” he pants, his gaze locked on mine as the wrecking ball hits, shattering him so beautifully. So perfectly, that I’m coming again before I’m all the way down from the first peak.
I grip his hips, dig my nails into the thick muscles of his ass, urging him deeper as he comes in powerful jerks that have my head spinning. I grind against him, drawing out every dazzling moment, until we’re both messy, sticky, wrung-out, and so, so happy.
“Look at you,” I whisper, giggling as I glance over to where he’s apparently experiencing a window into Nirvana on the pillow beside me.