Page 77 of Loud Unspoken Memories

She slams the door behind me and locks it. She falls to her knees and gives Bex a hug. “You better not have to go out for a long time, buddy.” She looks up. “And you. I hope we have enough wood in here for two days, because I’m not letting you go back out there.”

“Notlettingme?” I grin, my eyes traveling over her heavily clothed body as she stands. “Whatever will we do to pass the time?” I close the gap between us and finger the zipper on her coat.

She looks up at me, fire in her eyes. “Whatever you want.”

Instantly my dick springs to life. Because when it comes to Martina Alexandra Carver, I want a hell of a lot.

“Does that mean you’re open for business?” I ask.

She giggles. “We might have to test the waters and see.”

I wrap her in my arms and lean down to kiss her. Hell, I lean down toclaimher. For a few minutes out there, when Marti was between me and the bear, I was scared shitless. Not of the bear itself, but of losing her. Of losing someone else that I… that I…

I deepen the kiss instead of completing the thought. Because with all the brushes with death we’ve had over the past week, right now, we just need to feel alive. And kissing her, touching her, making love to her—those are the things that give me life. Those are what make my life worth living.

Her arms try to snake around me, but the bulk of our coats gets in the way. I step back and remove mine. Then she removes hers. I lean over, unlace my boots, and kick them off. She toes off her sneakers. I take off my shirt. She does the same. We follow this routine until we’re standing before each other, totally naked, our eyes panning the landscapes of each other’s bodies.

Neither of us seem bothered by the fact that it can’t be more than sixty degrees in here as we stare at each other, hunger in our eyes, knowing what lies in store.

She puts a hand on my chest, pushing me backward toward the bed until I fall over onto it. She climbs on top of me. I pull the covers around us until we’re in a cocoon. The warmth from our bodies is welcoming. The heat of our stare is intoxicating. The feeling of her on top of me is fucking everything.

She leans down and kisses me. I hold her tightly against me, my cock dancing between us as if it’s been a hundred years since we’ve done this and not twelve hours. She presses her hips into me, moving her slick center across my stiff erection. The frictionis purely divine. I could push inside her right now and give my greedy cock what it wants.

But she has other ideas. She kisses down my body, starting at my neck, then across my chest, teasing my nipples in the same way I like to tease hers. She disappears beneath the covers as her tongue blazes a trail down my abs. Holy shit, that’s sexy. Just when I think she might sit up and ride me, she does something she hasn’t done before.

I feel her tongue flit out and touch the tip of my dick. Surprise—and let’s face it, excitement—has me throwing off the covers so I can watch.

She glances up at me, her cheeks flushing as if she’s embarrassed to have me looking. But she isn’t deterred. She licks her lips and leans closer. I feel her breath against my sensitive skin. The anticipation of what she’s going to do has me about to explode even before her mouth is on me.

Then it happens, she seals her lips around me. They are wet and gentle and moving down my shaft torturously slow. She withdraws, leaving my slick cock cold and lonely. Then her mouth surrounds me again, more forcefully this time. Sliding on. Sliding off. Sliding back on. It’s enchanting. Mesmerizing. It’s mysterious, wet, and warm.

I feel a tickling sensation. It’s her tongue slowly, gently, purposefully working its magic. I almost blow my load instantly, but I concentrate hard on holding it, wanting to feel this incredible sensation for a few more moments. Because the feel of her lips on me is heaven on earth. Ecstasy in its purest form. God… this is better than porn.

Her head bobs up and down, her hair bouncing around with each dip. I brush it aside to get a better view. Her mouth comes off me with apop, then her tongue is on my balls. Her finger caresses the smooth area between my sac and my butthole, sending waves of pleasure pulsing throughout my body. Whenher mouth envelops me again, I try to keep myself from thrusting up into her. It’s fucking hard. I fist the sheets and bite my lip as I watch her drive me totally insane, one inch at a time.

Damn, there’s nothing in this world as good as a blow job. Especially from someone who seems genuinely happy to be giving it. It’s like great sex minus all the work. And while it feels amazing, I know a lot of it is in my head. It’s why I had to uncover her and watch. Because seeing someone do something so selfless just for my pleasure, while having such direct control over me, is a recipe of sensations that blend together into the most intense cocktail.

My resolve crumbles when she moans, the vibrations bouncing off my dick. Detonation is imminent. It’s happening now no matter how much I want to prolong this life-altering experience. My head slams back against the bed and I shout into the ether, coming harder and stronger than I ever have in my entire fucking life.

I can’t move. I’m completely spent. My breathing is hard and fast as if I’ve just run a race.

The mattress shifts next to me, and she lays her head on my chest.

“You just wait,” I say when I recover the ability to speak. “Give me a minute and my payback will be tenfold. I’m going to make you come so hard and scream so loud we might attract every goddamn animal in the forest.”

She giggles. Then she snuggles into me. It’s now when I realize just how much I like her near me. How much Iwanther near me. Maybe how much I evenneedher near me. But I push those dangerous thoughts aside for now. Because I have a job to do. A very important one.

I disappear beneath the covers, making her come not once, but three times before I finally sink myself inside her and onceagain find that feeling that men sometimes search their whole lives for.

Chapter Thirty-two

Martina

I lay in his arms by the light of the fire. He plays with my hair. I run my hand along his abs. I have no idea what time it is, only that it’s late. Neither of us sleeps.Because we know we don’t have but one or two sleeps left?

On his chest, I perch up on a hand. “I have a confession to make.”

His breathing stops. Does he think I’m going to admit my true feelings for him? I’m not. I’m not sure I ever can, no matter how substantial the pull is between us. We’re in two different places. Emotionally and physically. And the bottom line is… he’s just not ready.

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