Page 151 of When We Were Us
His rich chuckle and his next words plunder my heart. “Mmm…that's my girl.” He slides against me one more tortuously slow time.
Then, he pulls back and slams into my pussy with such force, it knocks me off my knees. I fall forward with a cry of pleasure, and when he grabs me by the waist and hauls my hips back against him, he feels deeper than he ever has. He drives into me over and over again, my moans and his grunts filling the tiny cabin. If it wasn’t for my nipples dragging on the wool blanket covering the bed, I would swear I was having an out-of-body experience.
Still inside me, he pulls me up so that my back is against his front. I’m completely limp from the relentless thrusts of his hips, and my head falls back to his shoulder as he continues to drive up into me. He brings my arm up and hooks it around his neck, then roughly grabs my breast, using me as leverage. His other hand parts me and finds my clit, working two fingers in time with his upward thrusts.
“Wrenley, baby, you’re mine,” he breathes roughly into my ear, ragged and hoarse. “Do you hear me? You’remine.”
I nod against his shoulder. I’m not sure if it's the emotion of the moment, the intensity in his movements, or his words, but tears spring to my eyes.
“Say it,” he rasps out, his lips and teeth sucking and scraping my earlobe. “I need to hear you say it.”
My senses heighten, his words dragging over something primal in me. His need to be wanted by me—to hear the words—does something to me. I’ve always been his.
My chest constricts, and I sob out, “Yours.” The strength of my orgasm plunders my senses, robbing me of strength. I almost fall forward again, but Hank's strong arm brackets me back against his chest.
“I love you, Wrenley. My beautiful girl,” he whispers against my skin. He presses a kiss to my temple as he slows his pace, still moving inside me while I ride out wave after wave of my orgasm. “You’re so pretty when you come for me.”
I nod again with a soft, breathless laugh, and I squeeze his thigh. It’s all I have; all I can do. I’m boneless, weightless.
“Turn around, baby. I wanna see you.”
He pulls out, then helps me turn to face him so that I’m straddling his lap. I go willingly, unable to sit or crawl or even think. He drags his cock across my clit and then lines up, driving back up into me with a grunt. He crushes me to him, our chests slick with sweat. His hands on my back tangle with my hair, and it’s like he can’t get close enough, deep enough, as if he wants to consume me from the inside out.
His eyes are hooded and dark, like liquid smoke. He swipes his tongue into my mouth, and when he begins to move his hips, I meet him thrust for thrust, grinding down on him. My hands roam his shoulders and back, tugging on his hair, as I explore his mouth with my tongue.
He’s stunning like this. Up close. Corded muscles along thick forearms and biceps, dark brown hair sprinkled across his chest and abs, and pupils blown wide. He presses his forehead against mine and pants against my lips, while his slick, steady strokes become jerky. It’s amazing how quickly we’re learning one another’s bodies and sounds.
The subtle change in his breathing has me reaching for my clit, need building to that delicious ache for release again, but he knocks my hand away.
“Mine,” he grinds out against the shell of my ear, rough and breathless. The word becomes a chant whispered over and over. A steady drumbeat that punctuates every upward thrust of his hips, and every swipe of his thumb against my clit. It brands my heart and soul.
A low, hot hum of desire settles at the base of my spine, swirling and twisting its way through me until all I feel is him and us. Everything’s happening so fast, and it’s a euphoric assault of my senses. His lips and tongue moving to my shoulder, the scraping of teeth on tender flesh, the caressing of hot breath, pounding hearts, gripping fingers, and sweat-slicked bodies intertwining.
My hearing goes almost staticky and my vision blurs at the edges as my body begins to tremble. I clamp my eyes shut, seeing only gold flashes of light on a blackened background. The cry that leaves me when I fly over the edge is guttural, choked with emotion. It mixes with Hank’s own release, a raspy, hollowed-out roar that is swallowedup in a searing clash of tongues and mingled breath.
We stay that way for several seconds, with his arm locked around my rib cage, the other between my legs, and my arms around his neck. I don’t think either of us want to let go. He presses a kiss to my temple, and when he untangles his hand from my hair, I slowly slide off him to the side, dropping onto the bed, boneless and sated. He laughs, giving my ass a squeeze in a big palm.
He collapses onto his back next to me, his body pressed against mine from shoulder to hip, and a hand over his stomach. We lay there for I don’t know how long, our chests heaving as our breathing mixes with the patter of rain on the roof. The wind howls outside and a crack of thunder makes me jump.
He reaches over and laces our fingers together, bringing my hand to his lips. He kisses my knuckles, and then I watch as he slides off the bed and pads to the bathroom. He comes back seconds later and proceeds to clean me up with a warm rag.
“You don't have to do that every time, you know.”
Stormy gray eyes search mine through thick lashes. Hair falling across his forehead, his expression is soft and adoring. He’s easily the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. “Yes, I do.”
“Why?” I ask, quietly.
He’s quiet for a long time, and just when I think he isn’t going to answer, he says, “I like taking care of you.” He looks like he might say more, but just drops his eyes back to where he’s washing me.
“I like you taking care of me.”
“Good.” He gets up and smooths my hair down before pressing a kiss to my forehead. Then, he crosses the room to a small chest of drawers and comes back to the bed.
“Sit up,” he says softly and takes my hand.
I do and he slips one of his T-shirts over my head, holding the sleeves open while I put my arms through. It’s tender and sweet after the chaotic way he justfucked me, and emotion clogs my throat.
“Slide over,” he whispers, with a lift of his chin. I do. He crawls in next to me and pulls the blankets up over us. Tuck jumps up on the bed, snuggled up at our feet.
