Page 88 of Breathe Again

“Biology,” I murmured.

“Biology,” he snorted. He rolled away from me, walked to our door, locked it, then turned on his bedside lamp.

“No lights,” I snapped.

“Yes, lights,” he clipped back at me. “Fuckin biology, she says.”

He slipped his fingers into the waistband of my pajama pants and worked them down over my ample hips and chunky thighs and tossed them onto the floor. My underwear soon followed. He tugged my hand to pull me to sitting and yanked my tank up over my head then tossed it to the floor. I immediately wrapped my arms around my belly, but he grasped my wrists and pulled me up to my knees in the middle of our bed.

“Stay put.”

He climbed out and rid himself of his clothing and then knelt behind me on our bed, his hands going to rest on my hips, his mouth dropping kisses across my back and down my spine, pushing me forward onto my hands.

My breath escaped in a pant, a combination of nerves and desire. I felt him hard against my ass as he moved back up and stroked his hands along my back and down my sides, up and down, back and forth, soothing me, relaxing me. I felt my back dip toward the bed, my pelvis tilting in invitation. He nudged my opening, teased me with short shallow thrusts that further tore down my resistance, but refused to take me fully.

He pulled out and circled around to kneel in front of me. With his hand in my hair, he pulled my mouth to his cock, and I opened to receive him, tasting myself on his skin.

I heard his sharp inhale and I leaned further into him, taking him to the back of my throat, feeling my power over him, feeling his desire for me. My chest filled with warmth, and I smiled inside.

He gently pulled back on my hair and pressed his forehead against mine, kissed my cheek, then guided me back to kneeling in front of him. He moved in close, spread his legs wide to bring us closer in height, and slid his erection along my slick, swollen folds. His engorged head bumped over my clit as he rubbed against me over and over, his dark eyes holding mine, trying to communicate something I was unable or unwilling to receive.

I grasped his ass to keep him close, and my head dropped back.

This was bliss.

He wrapped his arms around my back and kissed me hard on my mouth, forcing my lips open under his, delving inside, his tongue mimicking the action of his hips. He arched my back over his arm, and he licked and sucked along my throat.

I cried out when I lost him at my clit as he bent to my breasts, wrapping one arm behind my back, his other hand at my breast, his mouth at its twin. I entwined my fingers in his hair, encouraging him to keep going with my moans and hums of pleasure. Grasping my wrists, he pulled my hands from his hair, pulled me with him as he lay down on his back, then pulled at my thigh.

“Get on my face, Mara,” he ordered.

This position challenged my courage. After the first couple of blissful seconds, I would start to doubt if he wanted me there or not. I hesitated.

“Up, Mara,” he ordered.

I straddled his mouth. It was more embarrassing to protest when I knew I’d give him whatever he asked for. He yanked me down hard, his arms wrapped around my thighs, holding me open for his lips and his tongue.

Nothing felt better than his mouth on my pussy. I tried to hold back but the pleasure became too much, and I found myself rubbing against his mouth and chin, my hands on the headboard, trying not to make too much noise.

I heard a low hum coming from him. Looking over my shoulder I saw him, swollen and engorged, thrusting lightly into the air.

He slapped me lightly on my thigh. “Off. I want you coming on my cock.”

He guided me to straddle his hips. I was so close, I needed no prodding.

“Take what’s yours, Mara.” He grasped my hand and wrapped it around himself. “You do this to me. This is yours. Only yours. You understand me?”

I nodded, trying to slide myself over him. He resisted.

“Mara, look at me.”

I met his eyes, struggling to hear him over the pounding rush of pleasure and need coursing through my body.

“Yes, Zee?” I breathed.

He slid his hands into my hair and pulled my face close to his own. “I am like this for you and you alone. No one else does it for me. Only you. Always you. I’m yours, only yours, forever yours.”

Tears slid down my cheeks and he kissed them away. He shifted his hips, finally, and entered me. The same relief, the same sense of homecoming and belonging and all's right with the world that I always felt when we joined together flooded my system. He locked his arms around my back and hips holding me immobile while he kissed me, building the tension back up to where it was moments before.

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