Page 25 of Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

I’m stuck on ‘start the fuck fest again’ when he drops a knee to the bed, flips me around and proceeds to strip me naked, strip himself naked and uncovers all the dishes. Before he climbs in he grabs us a couple of beers from the mini fridge. He’s as much a work of art from behind as from the front, the way his long, sinewy muscles move so gracefully, so beautiful. His perfect ass naturally dimples when he walks, like he’s flexing his glutes. I’m giddy and breakout in a fit of giggles at the idea of having my beautiful, loving Gage back. He looks over his shoulder to blow me a kiss.

From there he slide in next to me, back to the headboard, one arm wrapped around my waist, and we settle in to eat a fat-filled, carb-filled dinner while watching a movie.

After we’ve cleaned our plates entirely—even his glass of milk fully drained—he uses the remote to flick off the television, though the movie isn’t over.

“Hey,” I protest. “I was watching that.”

“I got something better for you to watch, baby.” Gage starts humming seventies-sounding porn music and I throw my head back and laugh.

I immediately quit laughing when he moves over top of me to begin grinding his hardening cock against my sex again. No clothes means no barriers. And it… feels…exquisite. The pulse of it as he grinds, as he kisses my jaw hinge, then glides down to my chin.

Heart palpations. Serious,seriousheart palpations.

Dear lord, the way he glides down my neck, dropping kisses, licking the salty sweat from my skin. My hands hit a wall of hard, smooth, muscular chest, there to draw him closer, not push him away even a millimeter.

“God, baby…” Gage murmurs, concentrating on laving his tongue along my pulse point. “…never gonna leave me again…”

So hot for my man, I bypass the rest of our foreplay by widening my thighs and lifting my knees to squeeze against his ribcage. Right where I belong. Right where he belongs. It’s been months since I felt my Gage inside me. Every part of me aches to have him. If he didn’t know before, he sure knows how badly I want him now when I tilt my hips forward in silent begging.

Lips to lips, he takes me in a hard, hungry kiss. One I feel all the way down to my toes. Giving a slap to my ass, he pulls far enough away to look me in the eyes and peck the tip of my nose before he aligns his massive cock with my so-slick-with-arousal opening and rams into me.

I throw my head back, screaming his name. Gage knows how I like it. And that’s how he gives it to me. Hard, fast fucking.

I can’t contain my moan. The sting from his brutal intrusion has me seeing stars. I feel stretched and full, and if he keeps going I might actually reach nirvana. I’ve missed this. I probably don’t deserve it, but I love it. Missed it.

As much as I love him, as much as he loves me, we have to get past any animosity he might have toward me, to let go of all the anger or hurt he undoubtedly built up from my leaving and worse, staying gone. He grips my hips hard, digging his fingertips into the tender flesh of my hipbone and he continues his savagely beautiful attack on my pussy. Thrust after thrust, I take it and beg for more.

“Harder,” I plead. “Fuck me harder, Gage.”

He stops mid-thrust to flip me over, reconnects me to his dick, positions his knees between my spread ones, shoves down on my upper back so my ass rests higher than my shoulders at the same time he fists, then twists and pulls my hair hard so my head angles back and he resumes his pounding. The change in position lets me take him even deeper.

My thighs begin to quiver, but I try to hold on longer, wanting to prolong this glorious agony.

“Come for me, baby,” he orders.

“No,” I hiss, but even as the words pass from my lips, I feel my sex begin to convulse and know it’s a lost cause. One last time, I rear back into his thrust and let loose a fierce, animalistic cry into the mattress to muffle the sound while my soul breaks apart from the force of my orgasm.

Gage groans loudly—he’s always liked how it feels when I come around him. And he bends to cover my back with his chest, cocooning me by wrapping his strong arms around me, placing tender kisses between my shoulder blades, keeping my orgasm rippling throughout my body just like stones tossed into a pond. The familiarity is as hot as the sex. Or maybe the sex is so hot because of our familiarity. Though in this position, his movements shift from deep cervix pummeling thrusts to these shallow ones that drive me absolutely crazy.

It’s going to happen again.Shit. I… I… can’t hold it back any longer. I can’t hold back, don’t want to hold back. My muscles clamp down on him to involuntarily brace myself for what’s about to hit. And then, no kidding, I burst out in a round of tears along with my orgasmic cries.

Fuck me, crying and trembling in his arms after sex? But it’s not just sex. It’s sex with my Gage—finally, after all these months. Sex with my Gage, who came to my rescue the minute I called and told him I needed him. Sex with my Gage, who had been willing to give up a lifelong friendship to be with me. Sex with my Gage, the love of my freaking lifetime and probably into the next if there’s such a thing as an afterlife.

If that’s not worth my tears as I orgasm, then I have no idea what is.

“Hey…hey.” He collapses to the mattress and rolls to maneuver us face to face. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

Hurt me? No. Nothing in my life has ever felt like being with Gage—he’d never hurt me. “No,” I tell him honestly. “You’re just…here. With me, and we just… I’ve missed you so badly. I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t call you sooner. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Nothing to forgive, Liv. Long as you promise not to leave me again, it’s water under the bridge, baby. And I’ll tell you a secret. If you do ever take off again, I’ll sic Blood on your scent or I’ll hire a private detective. But what I’ll never let you do, Livvy Baxter,never let you dois leave for good. Not unless you could absolutely promise that you didn’t love me anymore.”

“I can hardly imagine that,” I say, calmer now that the tears have begun to subside.

“What are we doing about home?” he asks suddenly. Putting me on guard. “Not Kentucky home, here home. The house you’re staying in. We can’t live in the hotel.”

“Well, he broke in.”

“Right, so security system with cameras and we’re changing the locks. Are you okay with that?”

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