“You’re wet, Chelsea. Hot and slick and tight.” He pressed the thick digit farther into her sheath and set off a series of small convulsions throughout her system. Her legs shook, and she writhed on the bed under his firm grasp.
“Not enough. So good, but not enough. Please, Braden…” She tugged his shoulders, attempting to draw him back over her. Wanting to feel his cock press into her again and fill her. He evaded her grasp, slipping lower on the bed, the sheets flung to the side and discarded in a tangled mess on the floor.
“You’re beautiful when you come, Chelsea. Again. I want to see it again.”
He stabbed his tongue between her folds, wet and soothing in the midst of the fire he stoked. She watched as best she could, her eyelids heavy, her limbs lacking the strength to move as all the energy in her extremities pooled in her core in anticipation of the impending explosion. The next climax was going to shake her, and she desperately wanted to be connected with him when it happened.
“Please, Braden, I want you inside.” It took forever to say the words. Each time she expelled a breath, he plunged his fingers into her, his tongue and lips tormenting her sensitive clit. The demanding thrusts massaged the nerves lining her passage, liquid easing his way, coating his fingers and leaking out to cover her thighs. He lapped eagerly, humming as his tongue delved deeper into her, replacing his fingers. He grasped her hips and lifted her to his mouth, feasting hungrily as she lay at an incline, her shoulders digging into the mattress. Each intimate touch of his lips took her closer to the edge until with one final brush over her throbbing clitoris the dam burst and she came.
“Braden, oh my…” White spots hovered before her eyes as pleasure rolled over her like a tsunami. Before the pulses deep within her core could break off, he lowered her to the mattress and crawled over her. His cock, iron hard and wet at the tip, pressed into her still-moving body and she gasped at how amazing it felt. How right. Braden rocked his hips, each time stretching her a little more, gaining a little more access into her depths until he finally sank all the way to the hilt, their groins touching.
Fullness. Pure extreme pleasure. He pumped in slow motion, dragging his rigid abdomen over her already trigger-sensitive clit.
“You’re going to kill me.” Chelsea smiled at him as she wrapped her legs around him to make sure he didn’t stop. She dug her heels into his butt at the end of his stroke and the extra tilt made his cock hit a deliciously sensitive spot deep inside. She hissed with delight. “Yesss… Oh damn, more. Harder.”
Braden lost control of his tight, evenly measured pace and slammed into her. She gasped and clutched his shoulders.
“Again,” she demanded. She’d never felt like this before.
“Too hard.” He tried to ease off and she dug in her fingernails, the indent marks showing red against his skin.
“Not hard…enough.” She’d kill him if he stopped. Chelsea arched her back as he moved, increasing the speed and impact, and they both cried with pleasure.
One pounding blast followed after another until Braden hesitated, his pace growing uneven, his face tight as he stared down at her. She couldn’t protest because she was unraveling. From the top of her head to her toenails, an orgasm ripped through her, her pussy clutching Braden’s cock in tight pulses.
A stream of unintelligible words floated from his lips as he rammed in once more and froze. With their hips locked together, his cock jerked within her, setting off another string of pleasure.
Drunk on the pheromones flooding her system, the slow increase of his weight sinking onto her torso was the icing on the cake as he took her lips in a final passionate kiss. She let her hands caress the smooth surface of his skull, holding their lips together for one last moment of contact before he rolled beside her and collapsed with a groan.
“I’m sorry.” He turned to face her, stroking her cheek with the back of one knuckle.
“Sorry?” Chelsea stretched and her torso brushed his. The fleeting contact made butterfly flutters of pleasure race over her skin. Her brain barely functioned, and she couldn’t figure out what in the world he thought he had to apologize for.
“For getting too rough. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Damn idiot. She grabbed him by one ear and pulled.
“Shit, stop trying to peel me like a banana.”
She glared at him. “What the hell are you talking about, too rough? I loved every minute. If you didn’t notice, I was the one underneath you, having a good time. Earth-shaking orgasms and all that.”
Braden snorted, shaking his head. “You make me crazy, woman.”
“Ditto.”
Chelsea cupped his face in her hands. They stared at each other for half a second before bursting into laughter.
“You’re not going to make this relationship between us easy, are you?” Braden asked.
Chelsea couldn’t resist. She batted her eyes, showing her most innocent expression.
He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “Yup. That’s what I figured. Oh well, easy relationships are overrated anyway.”
The weekend passed far quicker than he’d imagined possible. They crawled out of bed Saturday morning and spent the rest of the day together without even venturing from the house. They cooked together—well, Chelsea cooked and he cleaned. They sat and talked. They enjoyed each other’s company and made love until he was sure he wore a goofy grin. Having had a taste of her, he couldn’t imagine how he’d kept them apart for so long.
The one lingering doubt remaining, he pushed to the back of his mind, not wanting to deal with it—not wanting the anticipation of jealousy to enter their relationship a moment before it had to. He would try his damnedest to satisfy her by himself as long as he possibly could. Allowing another man in their bed?—not yet. Hopefully not for a long time.
Sunday afternoon they were snuggled together on the couch, her head resting on his chest as she sat in his lap. He stroked his fingers through her golden curls again and again, the soft tresses draped over her shoulders shining in the afternoon sun.
“You happy, baby?” he asked.
“Umm-hmm.”
Contentment stole over him. “Me too.”
The doors to the deck stood wide open, letting the cool breezes off the ocean into the house. He thought about getting up to turn on the stereo for a little background music, but the wonderful lethargy in his limbs made it too enticing to simply listen to the ocean instead.
“Braden?”
“Yup.”
She pressed her palms against his chest and looked up at him. “Can I tell you something?”
He held in his chuckle. The intent expression on her face was endearing. “You look like it’s serious.”
She shrugged. “You know when I said I didn’t make it into college because of my SAT scores?”
He nodded.
“I…lied. My scores were perfectly acceptable, but I had to drop my registration. I didn’t have enough saved up to pay for the semester and housing, and it was too late to apply for student loans.”
What the hell? “I thought you had more than enough saved up.”
She snuggled against him again, the tension that had built in her body as she spoke slowly leeching away. It had obviously taken a lot of courage for her to tell him, so he restrained from his first response of cussing a blue streak.