Page 21 of Troubled Water
Buttons fly in every direction. In my haze of lust, I hear one ping off glass. His breathing accelerates, even as he shrugs out of the mess of what’s left of his shirt. The second the cuffs clear histhick wrists, he lets the remains fall to the floor before yanking me back into his arms. Parker’s lips crash back down on mine.
Christ, how is it possible for a man to emit such body heat?I wonder as my fingers skim the plane of his chest. My knees go boneless even as he swoops me off my feet to deposit me on the island of a bed in the center of his room. My pussy clenches in time with my womb contracting as he attacks my clothing—doing his level best to shred my construction boots and socks with his bare hands. If it wasn’t for the passion overtaking us both, I have little doubt he could render the material of both useless. Instead, he snaps the laces before bitching, “What the fuck did you do, double knot them?”
“Yes,” I manage, shocked.
He snarls, “Next time, don’t.” Then he slaps at my hands, which are frantically trying to unbutton his dress slacks. “You first.”
I bare my teeth. “Get them off or find them in the same condition.”
He leans his head down and buries it in the crook of my neck. His lips trail up and down the side even as he flicks open the front clasp of my bra. Now, my unbound breasts have the friction they’ve been yearning for as he moves his large and impossibly hard body against mine. I arch up against him even as he begins to pull back. Dragging a hand down the center of my body, Parker quickly relieves me of my jeans, leaving me clad in only a thong. “Christ, you’re beautiful. I’ve thought so since the moment we first met.”
He levers himself back on top of me. I immediately wrap my legs around his trim waist and my arms around his impossibly broad shoulders. “Parker…please.” I’m not above begging for the pleasure I know this man can give to me. Before, the tiny nibbles had been accomplished with him sucking on my breasts, hisfingers inside me. Or my hand down his pants, wrapped around what I know is his sizable cock.
Tonight, I want all the pieces put together.
After another earth-scorching kiss, he slides his body down mine. His lips and fingers trace every inch of skin available to him along the way. I moan as they brush over the tops and sides of my breasts, even as his lips capture my nipples in long draws. After he releases them, he drags his fingers along each of my ribs while his body follows the natural line of my stomach—past my belly button to the swollen folds that hide my throbbing clit. His fingers skim over the smooth outer plane before he parts the small strip of hair. Lifting my knees onto his shoulders, he hums his appreciation. “Slick and wet for me, B. That’s the way I want you every damn night you’re in my bed.”
His calloused thumbs peel my petals back right before he drops his head and sucks me into his mouth. My feet plant against his broad back as I rock my hips against his mouth, the pleasure so extreme I’m afraid I might scream down his condo.
The way Parker eats me out is a perfect mirror to the way he lives his life—focused, determined, and superior. Not long after he began focusing on my clit, my world exploded. The moan that escaped me after my release was long and worshiping.
As it should be.
But Parker wasn’t done. He fluttered his tongue deep inside me, whether to taste as much of me as he could or to leave an everlasting imprint of himself on me. I’m not certain. Either way, over and over, he brings me back to the precipice.
Then, abruptly, he stands—ripping my thong off my body right before he sheds his pants and reaches for the nightstand drawer to grab a condom.
In the few seconds where I am not in a haze of all things Parker, I take in his naked body while he strokes the condom down his cock. I knew he is big, thick. But even having pumpedhis cock until it sprayed in my hand one night while making out on his couch, I’m not even certain I am prepared for the sheer beauty of it, the perfection of him.
Yes, his body bears the scars he acquired from the dedication of it to his country, but even in its marked imperfection of scars and burns, never had God ever made a more perfect man. I squirm around the bed as he climbs back on it.
As he crawls between my spread thighs, he pauses, “Are you certain, B? If you’re not ready, I can wait. It’s enough that I pleasured you.”
It’s at that moment I realize I love him. This big, overbearing, autocratic man. We’re on fire for each other, and here he is willing to give me more time. Instead of pushing him away, I pull him closer. “Come into me, Parker.”
There is no way I could prepare for the way my heart flutters at the idea of how “us” would feel when he pushes in slowly, doing his level best not to hurt me. His cock wedges itself inside me, stretching me, causing my sensitive nerves to once again dance—only this time they ripple along his cock. He groans as he finally seats himself, “Dreamt about this.”
I slide my fingers into his hair and yank. He jerks his head back so his eyes meet mine. My voice is a rasp when I whisper, “Same. Now, make my dreams come true.”
“With pleasure.” With that final permission, Parker takes possession of my body. His hips withdraw his cock before snapping forward with a powerful thrust. Over and over, he plunges his hips, determined to elicit the most powerful pleasure my body’s ever known.
I’m no passive player. My hands are in his hair, on his face. Nails clawing down his back, hips. Our lips are never more than scant inches apart. When he drives inside me the final time, I can’t hold what’s in my heart back. Flinging my head forward, I whisper, “I love you,” into his ear as I come on his cock.
I’m not certain he’s heard me.
Parker keeps thrusting, his grunts coming faster and faster until he tenses. My name is a shout off the walls when his cock finally explodes with his release—the latex catching the explosion. After, he collapses heavily on me before shifting to the side.
Long moments later, as I drag my hands up and down his back, he murmurs, “Don’t think I didn’t hear you.”
I just reply with a non-committal, “Hmm.” My feelings are my own. It doesn’t matter if they’re never reciprocated, I’m not afraid. I know a part of me will always live on with this man, just as I’ll always carry a part of him with me.
He braces himself over me. Brushing my damp hair off my face, he stares down into my eyes. “I will always regret walking away?—”
“You mean running,” I correct him with a grin because it no longer matters. I know why he left me in Mexico, though I still like to give him grief over it.
His lips brush mine. “I still regret it because if I hadn’t, maybe there would have been a chance I could have introduced my parents to the woman I love before they died.”
My hands push his hair off his forehead. “I know you wish they were—”Did he just say what I think he said?My heart begins a rapid staccato in my chest.
