Page 22 of The Promise Of You

He wraps my legs around his hips and sets us softly on the bed, then carefully takes off every piece of my remaining clothing, one after the other, kissing every square inch of skin he bares. My eyes are glued to his washboard abs, to the intricate tattoo that starts on his left side and covers half his torso and his left arm, all the way to his wrist.

I might just come from the sight of him, so I close my eyes.

My body hums under his kisses, my back arching into his touch, his lips, the feather licks he deposits everywhere.

At some point he got rid of his clothes, and he’s down to his briefs.

And that won’t do. I trail my fingers along his erect shape, stopping him from kissing my neck. His eyes lock with mine. He hisses. I snake my hand inside his briefs. More hissing. I stroke his long, wide cock and lick my lips.

He kicks off his briefs. “Fuck, Clover.” He grabs a condom from somewhere and sheathes himself. Then he slips into me, slow and gentle, adjusting himself to the sound of my breathing, to the tiny signs my body gives him of how good he feels inside me. His eyes barely leave mine, only to trail sideways to my temple before kissing me there, or down to my mouth to take it in his.

I wrap my legs around his waist, tight, and pull him in. Run my hands up and down his back, my back arching into him.

He drops his head to my neck. “Clover,” he breathes, and increases his rhythm inside me, deepens his possession of me. Then suddenly he slips out and slides down to bury his face between my legs, laves my center, runs circles around my clit, then sucks it gently until I wail, and he pulls up and he’s inside me again. My legs are around him again, and I come again, a deep orgasm brought on by his powerful, fast strokes.

He wraps his hands around my head as he stills inside of me and growls, “Clover.” Then he rolls to his back, bringing me with him so I’m nudged on his chest, knees bent, my legs encapsulating him.

His heartbeat is fast and loud, and his hands caress my back and massage my head and trail down to my butt and back up. Then he pulls a sheet over us, and everything goes dark.

I startle awake to low whimpers and a hard, shaking body.

Not mine.

A body that smells like spice and sex, and a touch of soap. One with uneven skin on half the torso.

It’s still dark out. I must have just dozed off. But he’s asleep, in the throes of a nightmare, his arm around me clenching, his whimpers becoming more desperate. I tilt my head to kiss his jaw and stroke his chest and say little soothing silly things like, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” in a whisper voice. His legs jerk around until I tie them down with mine, still whispering, still kissing his jaw, wondering if I should wake him, then remembering you shouldn’t wake someone having a nightmare, then thinking that might actually be for sleepwalking.

Or is it?

He grabs me tighter to him and quiets down, and I fall back asleep.

Then I again startle awake, this time to his cock beating against the inside of my thigh, and I lift myself off him. He’s spread-eagle, one arm lazily holding me near, the other thrown over his head, hooded eyes trained on my face. “Hey,” he whispers.

Oh god.

God.

No one has ever looked so good, and no one ever will.

I lick my lips and with one finger trace the design of his tattoo from his arm above him, down to his chest. I kiss his chest above his heart, now beating slow and hard, and lick my way down to his cock. He holds my hair in his fist so he can watch me.

I lick his tip, a pearlescent bead my reward, then take his base in one hand and stroke him slowly. He grows thicker, making me wet and needy.

I take him in my mouth, as deep as I can, licking and sucking and moaning, a horny mess so into her own power over a man like that.

A man I should never have.

A man too good to be true.

I bob my head and moan around him, and he hisses “Clover” like it’s a curse, and then he picks me off him and jackknifes up, and my face is on the bed, my ass propped in the air, there’s the sound of a condom wrapper being torn open, then his hands around my hips putting me right where he wants me, and he fucks me so hard and so good I blubber when I come.

Then he flops me around and kisses me. A deep, long kiss. A soft kiss.

It’s a goodbye kiss, I know it.

Then he tucks me under his arm, and I curve my leg over his.

“Can I ask you a question?” I say.

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