Page 109 of Say You're Mine

I’m on her before the words fully leave her lips, my body covering hers, pinning her to the mattress. She arches up to meet me, all sweet, sleek heat, her lips parting on a gasp as I claim her mouth in a bruising kiss. She tastes of mint and desire, of stolen moments and shattered dreams. I drink her down like a man dying of thirst, like she’s the only thing keeping me tethered to sanity.

"I need you," I growl against her lips, my hands roaming the silken expanse of her skin, relearning every dip and curve. "Need to feel you, taste you. Need to bury myself in your heat until I can't remember my own fucking name."

"Yes," she hisses, her nails raking down my back, scoring my flesh through the thin fabric of my shirt. "God, June, please. It's been so long."

I gentle my touch, trailing reverent fingers over the swell of her belly where our child grows. "I'm here, baby. I've got you. I've got you both."

Tears glitter in her eyes, diamond bright in the darkness. "Show me."

I do. With hands and lips and tongue, I worship her. I chart every inch of her body, mapping the changes, committing them to memory. She’s softer now, more lush, her breasts heavier, her hips wider. But she’s still my Cara, still the only woman who can bring me to my knees with a single look.

I take my time, savoring her, drawing out every gasp and moan and breathy little plea. I lave her nipples with my tongue until they’re hard and aching, until she’s writhing beneath me, her fingers tangled in my hair. I kiss a trail down her stomach, pausing to nuzzle the sweet curve of her belly, before settling between her thighs.

She’s already wet, glistening in the moonlight, her scent heady and intoxicating. I breathe her in, letting her essence fill my lungs, before diving in like a man starved. She cries out at the first touch of my tongue, her hips bucking up to meet me, and I groan against her flesh. She tastes of honey and sin, of everything I'd ever wanted and could never deserve.

I lick and suck and nibble, playing her body like a finely tuned instrument. I tease her clit with fleeting flicks and lingering strokes, dipping inside her to savor her nectar. She’s a livewire beneath my ministrations, her thighs quaking, her hands fisting in the sheets.

"June," she pants, my name a prayer and a curse on her kiss-swollen lips. "I'm so close. So fucking close."

I seal my mouth over her clit and suck, hard, slipping two fingers inside her tight, clenching heat. She shatters with a low, keening wail, her inner muscles fluttering around my digits, her essence flooding my tongue. I work her through it, prolonging her pleasure, until she’s boneless and sated beneath me.

I crawl up her body, trailing open-mouthed kisses as I go, until we’re face to face. She cups my cheek, her thumb smoothing over the coarse stubble. "Your turn, baby. I want to taste you, too."

Desire, hot and urgent, surges through me, my cock throbbing almost painfully behind the confines of my zipper. But I shake my head. "Not yet. I'm not done with you."

I rise to my knees, straddling her chest, my erection jutting obscenely behind the black denim. "Do you trust me, Cara?"

"With my life," she answers without hesitation, her eyes bright with love and longing.

I swallow hard, humbled and shaken by the depth of her faith in me. Then, slowly, deliberately, I unzip my fly, freeing my aching flesh. She licks her lips, hunger and anticipation flaring in those stormy grey depths.

With careful movements, I shimmy forward until my knees bracket her head, my cock bobbing mere inches from her parted lips. Her breath is hot against my sensitive skin, a tease and a torment.

"Open up, baby," I grind out through gritted teeth. "Gonna feed you this cock."

A high, needy sound escapes her as she obeys, her tongue darting out to lathe the leaking tip. I hiss, my hips jerking forward, chasing the silken heat of her mouth. She opens wider, taking me deeper, her throat working around my length as I begin to thrust.

It’s heaven and hell, bliss and damnation, her lips stretched around me, her tongue fluttering against the throbbing vein on the underside of my shaft. Every drag of her mouth stokes the fire in my blood, tightens the coil of tension at the base of my spine. But I can't come. Not yet. Not until I’m buried in the slick heat of her cunt.

With a groan, I pull free of her sweet mouth, scraping together the tattered remnants of my control. She makes a bereft sound at the loss, her lips glistening with saliva and pre-cum, and I nearly lose it right then and there.

I wrench off my shirt, baring the tapestry of scars and tattoos that adorn my torso. Cara's eyes roam hungrily over my skin, her hands lifting to trace the ridges of my abs, the curls of ink over my heart. I let her look her fill, let her brand me with her gaze, before settling back between her spread thighs.

The head of my cock nudges her sodden opening and we both groan, our breath mingling in the heated air between us. "I love you," I tell her, cupping her face in my hands. "I love you so fucking much, Cara."

"I love you too," she whispers, her lips finding mine in a kiss that’s both benediction and absolution. "Now fuck me like you mean it, baby"

I drive into her with one hard, deep stroke, bottoming out inside her perfect, grasping heat. She cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders, her back bowing off the bed. I pull back and surge forward again, setting a rhythm as old as time itself, our bodies moving in perfect synchronicity.

It’s everything. It’s not enough. I can't get close enough, deep enough, the need to crawl inside her and never come out a living thing in my chest. I kiss her, devour her, swallow down every moan and whimper as I pound into her harder, faster, chasing the release that shimmers just out of reach.

"Touch yourself," I command, my voice a low, feral rasp. "Make yourself come on my cock, baby. I want to feel you."

Her hand snakes between our sweat-slicked bodies, finding her clit, rubbing in tight, frantic circles. I can feel her tightening, clenching, her inner muscles fluttering around my driving length.

"That's it," I praise, my hips snapping forward, the obscene slap of flesh on flesh echoing in the room. "Fucking drench me, Cara. Let go."

She shatters with a ragged scream, her cunt bearing down on me like a vise, urging me deeper. I follow her over the edge with a hoarse shout, my cock jerking and spurting as I fill her with my seed. It goes on and on, the pleasure cresting and breaking and cresting again, until we’re both spent and trembling in the aftermath.

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