Page 93 of Voice to Raise
He nuzzled my neck.
I reached behind to grasp his thigh. “How do you want it?”
“Me on my back. I want to see your face.”
“Well, conveniently that happens to be my favorite position as well.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder blade, then rolled onto his back. He stretched to grab the bottle of lube—which he always kept at hand. He was a horny guy.
Oh, who the fuck was I kidding? I was just as randy. Anytime. Anywhere. He had only to crook his finger, and I’d grow hard with wanting him. We’d christened a few pieces of furniture in the house—always being careful about cum stains, of course. Buthe was helping me feel less like I was living here on someone else’s good graces, and more like this was my home. It had been, for my entire life, but for the first time I felt comfortable in the space.
Moses and Spencer made the place more of a home and less of a showpiece.
I rolled over and found my lover preparing himself. Sometimes he was okay with me doing this part. When he was in a hurry, he’d just do the prep. I smiled as he spread his legs and handed me the lube.
After coating myself, I took a position between his legs.
He nodded.
I pressed in.
He breathed through the discomfort as he continued to hold my gaze.
“Hard and fast, okay? I’m ready to blow.”
I grinned. “Blow away. I’m still going to fuck you through it.” Nothing I loved more than for him to come first and for me to coax him through the orgasm as I sought my own.
Still, as I teetered on the edge, giving in came easily. I pounded into him, thrusting over and over again. His gaze never left mine as he pulled his lower lip through his teeth.
“Come on, Spencer, baby, give in. Go over, okay? I’ve got you.” On those words I snapped my hips and buried myself as deeply as I could into him.
With a cry, he came.
Cum spurted out from his cock, hitting both our chests.
Damn, without even being touched. Pretty impressive. He always put everything he had into our lovemaking and, as I tumbled over the edge with him, I soared high above. I took in the two of us, clinging together, and hoped it would always be like this. That he’d never let me go. That I’d be with him, by his side, forever.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Spencer
“You need to stop moping.” Mama Murthi swatted at Moses who’d decided to leap onto the kitchen island and try to nab some of her crab dip.
With a yowl, he scampered away.
“Sorry. He knows better.”
She pointed the serving spoon at me. “You do as well, my young friend. They’re back in about an hour.”
“He wouldn’t let me pick him up at the airport.”
“Because a fancy limousine is driving him here.” She continued stirring the dip as I tore up slices of pumpernickel to dip in it. “They’re all coming here, my little one. That tells you something. They could have all gone to their respective homes, but they’ve chosen to come here. And they asked the two of us to be here. No one else.”
“That doesn’t strike you as odd?”
“He’s not going to dump you in front of a roomful of people. He’s not going to dump you at all. Here.” She put a fork into the mix and apportioned enough for me to try.
My eyes closed as I moaned in bliss. “You know, I think your cooking is how I survived this.”
“Ha!” She grinned. “Papa loves you almost as much as I do. I’m glad you stopped turning down my requests for visits and started honoring your elders.”
