Page 67 of Afterglow
My cock weeps, knees buckling so quickly I have to use the counter for support.
“If I didn’t have ten more minutes left on this chicken parm in the oven…” Her sentence trails off with a sharpwhewthrough those pink pursed lips.
Restraint thrown aside, I pounce over the granite-covered island like an animal, nearly knocking over the cut eggplant to grab my girlfriend by the throat for an urgent kiss.
She winces and drops the knife to ball a fist into my shirt before breaking out in bubbly giggles. “I could’ve stabbed you.” Her fingers slip through with a fresh slit in the damp fabric, their tips against my already burning skin like salt in a wound. “I have terrible reflexes, and that knife is really sharp.”
“And I would let you,” I groan against her mouth, using my free hand to lift her by the rounds of that lush ass and latch her strong legs around my hips while stealing another kiss. This woman could stab me, run me over with my truck, and I’d thank her and ask for more.
“Don’t tempt me.” The warning is playful, but sincere. “I’ve always been an advocate for women’s wrongs. There’s a lot of men out there I wanna hurt.”
I set her on the back counter, careful that her head doesn’t hit the upper cabinets. “You can hurt me instead.”
The lightness of the mood lowers, and her flour-dusted palms reach my cheeks. “No.” She presses a breathy denial against each of my eyelids. “Never.” One of her hands shifts to cover my heart, and its rapid beating takes off with the anticipation of a promise. “I’ll never hurt you, Fletcher.”
Her molten gaze is the beginning of my end. And I don’t care.
“I love you.” Bea melts into me, sweeping her parted mouth across mine as I cradle her nape, the dark strands of her hair winding through my fingers and pulling me into their abyss.
“I love you,” I echo. “Sleep with me.” It’s a begged murmur; a prayer left on her lips. It twitches into a faint smile in reply.
“Right now?”
“Yes,” I squeeze her soft body to mine, needing to feel every part of her. “Right now. It might kill me if I don’t.”
“Can’t have that.” She reaches around the double oven, hitting a button with a beep. “So our dinner doesn’t burn.”
I nod, still holding onto her.
“Take me to bed, Fletcher.” She taps my flexed shoulder twice. “I’m not taking your virginity in the kitchen.”
The short route to my bedroom is filled with loving sweeps of touch and impatient, tongue-filled kisses. It’s hazy, and I can’t tell if it’s from the kitchen or from the cloudiness of my own mind.
“Being with you is like walking in a dream,” I confess, kneeling at the edge of the bed in front of where I position her. “Please don’t wake me up.”
“You’re everything to me,” she answers with an extended kiss to my forehead that leads to her tugging my shirt over my head. The sweat-soaked cotton catches against my beard. I return the favor. She unhooks her bra and drops it onto the floor with a clack. “Everything I ever dreamed of, wished for.”
I stare in awe of the absolute goddess, wondering how I became her dream, the object of her affection, desire, heranything. A moan escapes me when she pulls down my shorts. I stand, letting them join our clothes on the floor.
She glances ahead at my sheathed cock tenting the boxer briefs, then up at me. “Can I touch you?”
“Please.”
Bea gets to her feet, the top of her head reaching my pecs, hot breaths sending wave after wave of goosebumps across my bare torso. I hiss when she strokes my length, struggling to maintain her unrelenting eye contact. My hands curl over the slope of her shoulders, bracing myself at the deliciously slow movements. Tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth, she peels away the briefs from my hips and gapes at how the engorged length slaps against my abs, before testing the weight of me in her shifting clasp.
“You’re…” She swallows air, squeezing around me with the next stroke. “I don’t know if you’ll fit.”
I moan in response to her thumbing through the pre-cum beading at the throbbing crown.
“But I wanna try.”
Her backward scoot offers the waist of her jeans and has me leaning onto the mattress to strip them from her. Creamy legs cricket together in aswishagainst the duvet, but my hands glide down their firm skin, keeping them apart.
“I’ve waited for you for so long.” I bend to kiss the tops of her feet, the delicate bones of her ankles, up the inside of her knees. She sighs as I continue. “I want to remember…feel everything with you.”
It’s intoxicating. Her smell, the way her skin tastes, her fingers tangled in my hair, urging my mouth over the curves of her hips and luscious belly. Dusky nipples pucker under my leaden, humid breaths. I lick one, then the other, running on pure instinct while cupping the soft rounds of her breasts.
“I’m living…dying to worship you.”
