Page 8 of Better Left Unsaid

“I want that, too.”

I scooped her up in my arms, and she giggled, her body cradled against mine. “This must be taking a lot of restraint for you,” she teased, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

Shaking my head, I carried her upstairs to her bedroom. “You’re right. Having your nipples that close to me and not having them free so I could easily pop one into my mouth, or feeling your pussy practically vibrating with excitement is a form of torture. Next time we do it against the wall and call it a damn day.”

“How romantic,” she replied, chuckling.

She should only know things were so romantic that I loved her. Yeah, it didn’t get more romantic than that, did it? Go ahead. Think of something more romantic than a man wanting nothing more than to get on his hands and knees and confess his feelings to his best friend. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t put you on the spot. Nothing was more romantic. We all knew it.

“No emotion, remember? Just sex.” I was telling Maria this, but really having it serve as a reminder for my dumb ass.

I unhooked her bra while her shirt was still on, set her down on her bed, and instructed her to take off her shirt. “I remember,” she replied, doing as I said, her tits staring back at me as her nipples perked up immediately.

I took mine off, too, tossing it on the floor somewhere, but my eyes couldn’t be peeled away from the beautiful sight. Her tits were a thing of goddamn beauty. Her perfection couldn’t be legal. At least, it shouldn’t be. Maria was stunning with or without makeup, her figure a voluptuous hourglass shape.

I bent down and covered her tits with my hands. I was absolutely obsessed with them. The size of them was perfect, no question about it. I squeezed them ever so gently before relaxing my grip and letting them just sit in the palms of my hands. The weight of them felt like heaven. Everything about being with her felt that way. If heaven was a place on earth, it was here, in these moments, with Maria.

“You know, I don’t think I ever told you this, but I’ve been thinking about getting a boob job,” she admitted, her chest rising and falling as she obviously got something that was weighing on her off her chest.

I did a double take, furrowing my brows. A boob job? “Why on earth would you think you need a boob job?” She didn’t need work done. Now or ever. Just being able to explore and touch her body in this way felt like a privilege. Anyone who made her feel otherwise was a fool.

She sighed, moving her lips from one side to the other as she got ready to speak her truth. “I’m just not sure they are what they used to be. They’re old, tired, mom boobs. You’ve never said anything, and I know you didn’t see them before I gave birth, but they were much perkier, and as the years go on, they’re just not the same.” She peered down at her tits and looked unhappy with herself, like she was degrading herself in her head. I didn’t like that. She shouldn’t do that. She was feeding herself lies if she was telling herself she was anything but perfect.

I looked at her tits—really looked at them—and still didn’t see it. I didn’t think I would, if I was being one hundred percent honest. There was just no way. Like I said, they were perfect. Sorry, there wasn’t another word for them. “You don’t screw with perfection,” I responded, shaking my head and reaching out to touch them, to give them the love they obviously needed. “And that’s exactly what these are.” That was what everything about her was.

She had to know that.

Had to know that there was not a single thing I would change about her.

That no man should want to change about her.

And she shouldn’t want to change anything, either.

She sighed and spoke before I could say another word. “Thank you, but I have another body part craving attention,” she said and cast her eyes down. She wet her lips, parting her legs in an effort to open them as much as she could. “Do your worst to me, big boy.” Her hands wrapped around my back as she tried to drag me closer so that I was hovering over her.

Damn, she turned me on.

I positioned my tip at her entrance but didn’t pause, instead thrusting inside of her all at once. She tossed her head back and moaned, the sound reverberating off the walls. I’d be damned if I didn’t want to record that sound, so I could play it on repeat every chance I got.

I didn’t know what was better—her cries, her heat sucking my cock inside like she couldn’t get enough, or her nails digging into my flesh as she scraped them down my back in a way I knew would leave marks. Marks that I would proudly wear.

I didn’t let up on pumping, though, thrusting in and out, in and out. Not losing my rhythm, I praised her. “Look at how good you’re taking my cock. You want me to flood you with my heat? Would that make you happy?”

“Yes,” she cried, dragging out a ragged breath.

I brought my mouth to one of her tits and swirled my tongue around her nipple. She moaned, so I grazed my teeth over the sensitive skin before taking her nipple in my mouth and sucking on it.

“Oh, God,” she exclaimed, her voice hitting a new high.

I gripped her other tit with my hand, giving it a nice squeeze as I thrust harder into her.

“Will this work?” she asked, her breath catching.

I knew exactly what she was talking about—whether it’d work and she’d orgasm this time. I lifted my mouth off her nipple with a pop and shook my head. “Not if you don’t stop thinking about it.”

She didn’t respond, only lifted her hips off the bed, allowing me to thrust even further inside her. Her legs tightened around me, her heels pushing firmly into my backside. I was hoping she’d come, but when it was obvious that wasn’t happening, I was a fucking goner. Again. Unfortunately.

All I saw was darkness as I came harder than I’d ever come before. Just when I thought I was done spilling inside of her, there was more. I pumped in again and again and again until I came down from my high.

---