Page 42 of Sawyer
“You smell so good,” he murmurs against my skin as his hands massage my waist, which sends an electric rush through my body, turning me on so quickly it’s embarrassing.
“I forgot what it’s like to be touched by a man…” I whisper mindlessly.My mouth dries, thinking about Sawyer’s hands exploring me.Wanting it more than anything.
“Do you want me to touch you?”His words caress my neck, where he continues to pepper my skin with kisses.Both kids are now fast asleep down the hall, and even though the house is quiet, I know they’ll be out for a while.We won't wake them.
“Yes…” I’m almost scared to ask, my heart still racing as my skin prickles under his touch.
His kisses on my neck become a little deeper as his hands start to roam.My body moves in response, back arching a little, my head and shoulders next to his as I push my hips back and grind into him.
I feel him again.Big, hard, ready.I have no idea what I’m doing, really, but my body appears to have a life of its own.I might as well be a cat the way I’m rubbing up against him.
“You keep grinding on me like that, and I’ll need to get rid of my sweatpants too,” he murmurs as one of his hands smooths up my torso, grabbing on to my breast and pulling a moan from my throat.I place my hand on top, silently asking for more.My breathing has increased, my skin hot and tingling as his hands roam my curves.
“That wouldn't be so bad.”I’m already panting at the thought of it, trying to stay as quiet as possible.Sawyer growls then, his other hand lowering, slipping under my sleep shorts and finding my bare center.As he slides his fingers across my sensitive skin, I lift my other hand, cupping the back of his head and pulling him to my neck.
This feels so good.His solid body behind me, protecting me and pleasuring me.I feel equal parts safe and sexy as hell.It’s almost like he’s playing me like an instrument, and I’ve never felt more wanted.
“Sawyer,” I whimper as he slides a finger inside of me, and I jolt a little in his arms.It feels so good.His touch is one of wanting, yet softer than I’ve ever experienced.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he groans under his breath, like he’s trying his best to be quiet too.His hips grind into my ass, his lips never leaving my skin, now biting and sucking on that sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder.I push my head back a little more as his fingers circle my clit, working in a rhythm that my mind can no longer make sense of because my feelings are becoming overwhelming.
I haven’t had this before.Sex with my late husband was brutal, hurtful, rough, and many times without consent.He was clumsy, only thinking of himself and his own needs, with me acting as a mere doll underneath him that he positioned in any way he damn well wanted.
But now, even though Sawyer is all over me, he’s taking care of me.He’s making me bloom inside.I feel alive and desired and deserving.His hold on me is firm, yet it doesn’t hurt, and it isn’t prohibiting me.His kisses on my skin, the way his other hand molds to me, it’s like he’s worshipping me.Not just using me for his own sexual relief, which is what my entire previous sex life was about.
“Oh God, Sawyer,” I say through a soft moan.Biting my bottom lip to hold back the sounds trying to escape, my hips move against his hand, the pain in my head now long forgotten as my body thrums for release.
“That’s it.God, you’re so fucking sexy…” His tone is low, almost feral, his dick so hard and pressing into my back.He quickens his pace, his fingers tools of magic as he rubs my clit, and I feel my body right on the edge.It’s like I’m vibrating and about to combust.
“I’m going to… Oh my God… Sawyer…” I almost hiccup, feeling out of this world, like I’m on drugs or something.My orgasm is one that’s built up over years, the sensations so strong, I start rocking my entire body on his hand.
He lifts his other hand from my breast and runs it up to my neck, holding my jaw firmly and moving my lips to meet his with a moan.
His kiss is brutal, our breathing labored, my body now shaking.
“Let go for me, Mama.Come for me,” he growls.
A loud moan nearly bursts from me, but Sawyer is quick, moving his hand to cover my mouth as I chant his name, my body shuddering as his movements intensify.I come so hard, it’s almost embarrassing, my body completely letting go for the first time in a very long time.
As the tension releases, Sawyer removes his hand from my mouth, kissing me again as I relax back into him.His hands move back to my waist, his mouth back to peppering my shoulders.I feel him still rock-hard, and I go to move, wanting to reciprocate.
“Stay where you are and go to sleep, Annabelle.That was hot as hell, and I want to do that again in the morning, so I can see your face clearly when I make you come.But right now, you need your rest, and I want to fall asleep with you in my arms.”
I swallow roughly, wondering if there’s a sign-up sheet for that morning activity, because it can’t come fast enough.
I hum a laugh, and I feel his lips as he grins against my skin, both of us getting more comfortable as I cuddle into him.I’ve never felt this safe in my entire life.With my body and mind now calm, within moments, I’m out.
Having the best sleep of my entire life, all wrapped up in his arms.
19
Sawyer
Iwake with the sun on my face and immediately know I’m not in my bed.The sheets feel different, the light too bright, and as I open my eyes, I understand why.
“What the fuck.”I sit up, a little groggy and discombobulated.Annabelle is still beside me, sound asleep, and I admire her for a moment.Her face is relaxed, her beautiful long hair sweeping over the pillow.She’s even beautiful when she sleeps.The way she came last night, the way her body molded to mine, the way she grinded her ass into my raging hard dick had me feeling so many things.Even now, thinking about it, my cock is rock-solid.In bed, with me, her body moved in a way that was all woman.I felt every dip and curve, and now my feelings for her have grown even more.I bet she looks fucking amazing naked.
I spot the gash on her forehead and frown.It doesn’t look much better, but at least the butterfly closures held overnight, meaning she doesn’t need stitches.I reach out for her, my hand gliding across her waist, over her curves, her soft skin feeling like heaven.
