Page 83 of Pretty Heartache

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, full of pleasure, stiffening. “I’m going to come.”

I grip the back of his thighs tighter, holding him in place as I swallow, the muscles of my throat forcing him over the edge.

His orgasm slams into him with full force, and his cock pulses and vibrating. I hold him as he comes in my mouth and it lands at the back of my throat, making me widen my eyes and swallow. When he’s finished, I pull out and lick the corner of my mouth. Micah watches me with fascination, and something in him clicks. He’s suddenly hungry for more, not wasting any time when his hands are on me again. He leans down and wraps his arm around me, lifting me high enough to fall back into the garden bed. My back meets the cold, damp soil, but I don’t care.

My hands are immediately on him, too, sliding under his shirt. I frantically lift it over his head and drag my long, pink-painted nails down the length of his chest and abs. His rock-hard muscle under my fingers adds to the wetness between my thighs.

“I want you so fucking badly, Micah.”

“How bad?” His mouth lands on my neck, tasting me, where the tip of his tongue grazes the length of it. When he reaches my shoulder, he bites down, and I let out a small whimper.

Filled with need, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him against me.

His cock presses against my dripping wet pussy. Disappointingly, I’m still wearing my shorts and panties—a barrier between us.

“This bad. I want you this bad,” I whisper. “Can you feel how wet I am through my shorts?”

“Not yet.” He groans with a devious smile. “But let’s find out.”

He makes quick work of popping the button of my shorts. With his knees pressed into the soil, he falls back on his heels and slips them down my legs. Once they're gone, he tosses them over his shoulder, discarding them on the ground outside the garden box.

He grinds his hips into me, his stiff cock pressing against me again. This time, the feeling is more intense. The only remaining barrier left between us is my black lace thong. The fabric adds another tickling sensation, intensifying my need and hunger for him.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he says, feeling my wetness seep through the thin fabric. He reaches down and hooks his fingers under the material, grazing them along my folds. Then without much effort, he tears them from me.

I gasp.

He tosses the shredded thong aside, and now there’s nothing left. My ass is pressed into the dirt, but all I care about right now is having Micah as close as possible. I want to feel him inside of me, filling my heart in places no one else ever has.

Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, I pull him down to me. He moves his hips back and swiftly slides himself into me.

My head falls back into the dirt as my mouth falls open on another gasp. The air is knocked from my lungs as he pounds into me.

“Oh, my God, yes,” I breathe out, tipping my chin back down. My nails dig into the back of his neck as he pulls out nearly all the way before driving back into me.

I move my hips in time with his, matching him thrust for thrust, meeting him with as much power as he’s giving me. Our movements are rough and rushed in the soft dirt. I can’t get enough of him. I feel like I’m chasing a high—one I know I’ll withdraw from later, only to chase my next fix. But this is an addiction I don’t want to recover from.

His large hands press into the wet soil on either side of my head. We’re completely dirty, every inch of our bodies littered with dirt, but we don’t care. My bare ass is pressed into the fresh garden bed I just finished laying out. Luckily, I haven’t planted any seeds yet.

The scent of damp earth fills my nostrils as white-hot heat blooms. My legs tighten around Micah’s frame, my orgasm coming. I hold him against me, his lower stomach grinding against my clit. I cry out, the feeling of him inside me sending a shock through my body, then he slams his mouth to mine, catching my moan with his kiss.

He pounds into me harder. Deeper. My body tenses, and my breathing is shallow, the vibration of my orgasm reaching fever pitch. I shudder when I fall over the edge.

My body is wracking with my orgasm as he thrusts a few more times before he falls apart inside me. His cock pulsates, and his jaw tenses, the feeling more intense with this second orgasm. His cum spills inside me and he falls against me, burying his face in the crook of my neck to catch his breath.

Once he’s regained some control, he pulls himself out of me and looks over his shoulder for my shorts before grabbing them and carefully slipping them back up my legs. Lying still with my back in the dirt, watching him admire me, I feel myself smiling.

“I hope I didn’t mess up all your hard work,” he says, reaching the bottom of my ass.

I raise my hips as he slides my shorts the rest of the way up and over my curves. Once they’re back on, I lift myself up onto my elbows, and he sits back on his heels.

“If you did, I’d say it was worth it.”

The smile he gives me reaches his eyes.

I love Micah Harding. I’ve always loved him. But unlike when I was a kid, with just a hopeless, meaningless crush, this feeling I know won’t disappear.

TWENTY-TWO

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