Page 63 of Just Like in the Movies
“No, you’re good. Feel how solid it is.” I took one of his hands and made him spread his palm over the softball in my gut. I’d popped hard sometime in the last couple of weeks—one day I was still wearing my regular pants, the next, there was no way I was getting that zipper closed. “He or she is pretty safe in there.”
He pressed a little on my belly, testing the firmness of it. “Does it feel strange?”
I nodded. “Sometimes. Sometimes I’m just, like, really aware of there being a baby in there.”
He bent down to kiss it, his lips brushing gently around the tiny, solid mound. “Hello, baby.”
My heart melted and I ran my fingers through his hair. “You excited about this?”
He nodded and crept up my body to kiss me. “Very. And about you being here. And getting married.” He kissed me again, long and tender. “I love you,” he whispered and reached between us to guide himself inside me.
I spread my legs wide and cried out softly as his cock stretched me, nerve endings tingling and shooting off streaks of desire through my body. His eyes met mine and I was caught, unable to look away. Was this what those intimate scenes in the movies were supposed to be trying to get across to the audience? Because I really didn’t think they managed it, that certainty that you’d found the person you were meant to spend your whole life with. I stroked his hair and touched his face as he thrust into me with agonizing slowness. But it was absolutely perfect and I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
We stayed like this for what seemed like ages, Mike moving with deliberate speed, squeezing every ounce of pleasure out of each passage into and out of my body. And every time he pushed into me, it twisted the growing knot of my orgasm a little tighter, pushed me closer to that moment. But more than anything else, it felt like each time our bodies came together, I fell just a little bit more in love with him.
“This okay?” he asked after a bit. “You want me to do anything else?”
“Like what?” I asked idly, tracing the flare of his collarbones under the smooth skin.
“Harder? Faster? You want me to suck you?” He dipped his head to kiss me, so sweet I nearly came from it.
I ran my hands down over his chest, spreading my fingers wide to feel his muscles bunch and swell beneath them. “No, this is good. This is perfect.” I chased his mouth with mine and let the sensation of his body riding me flow over my skin. “Okay, maybe a little faster.” I was greedy. Always had been, at least when it came to sex. I wanted the feel of him, as much as I could get. All for me. I knew I’d have to share him a little with his fans, but this part was mine and suddenly, some monster of possessiveness rose up in me. “Come here,” I demanded and pulled him back to my mouth so I could taste and lick and bite at my fiancé. I needed to remember that he’d chosen me, and to remind him that I’d chosen him too.
He grunted in surprise, then groaned and leaned more of his weight on me. I sighed against his lips and wrapped my arms around his waist, forcing him to curve into my body. It made it harder for him to fuck me, but if I pulled my knees up as far as they’d go, it wasn’t a bad angle. And I could feel him against my chest with every rock of his hips and every nudge of his cock against my prostate, which made my nipples very happy indeed.
Mike wrapped his arms around my shoulders, holding me tightly so there was no escape and kissed me as if time would never end. Not that I would have tried to escape; instead, I moaned and whimpered for him, tracing the muscles of his back and his ass with my palms as he rocked gently into me, trying to pull him closer. The swell of my belly raised my cock just enough that those hard abs slid along the underside in an agonizing tease, and I grabbed at his ass in mute encouragement.
“This is nice,” Mike whispered against my cheek. He nibbled his way down to my ear, then teased the side of my neck with his tongue. “I’m getting kind of close.”
“Thanks for the warning.” I wasn’t, not particularly, though around Mike it never took me long to get to the point of no return. “Go for it. I want to feel you come inside me.”
He made a sharp noise, like that time I’d stripped his pants down in the movie theater and went down on him when we were seventeen, but more desperate sounding. I tipped my head back to beg for more throat kisses and did my best to roll my hips up toward him. Mike made a hungry noise and nipped at the side of my neck before he braced himself against me and the mattress and began to plunge inside me.
“Oh,” I cried out in surprise. Whatever he was doing, it was amazing. Or maybe it was the pregnancy—I’d been a lot hornier the past month, which had damn near killed me, waiting to get back here and finally get my Mike fix in. Whatever, I found myself clutching at him, digging my fingers into his ass and his shoulders and thrusting back at him with all the force I could come up with. The feel of him sliding inside me and the sharp, authoritative bump at the end as he slammed home sent my hormones into a spiral of joy that I couldn’t keep inside.
My cries of pleasure only seemed to encourage him—he began moving faster, his face buried in my neck and his cock hitting that sweet spot inside me like he was aiming for it. Vaguely, I heard the headboard banging against the wall with the force of his movement and I kissed whatever part of him I could reach until he stiffened and groaned, crushing me to him as if he’d plant his seed right in my heart.
I squirmed a little while he was still mostly hard inside me, desperate for those last bits of sensation that would give me the same release. Mike gasped and shoved his hips against me again, then let out a long breath. “Fuck, Lew, you’re the best.”
I growled and bit the point of his shoulder.
“Ow.” Mike lifted his head. “Was I too quick?”
“Just by about two seconds. Move out of the way, I can fix that.” I knew he liked to watch me jerk off—we’d done a lot of stuff together that edged damn close to full-on sex before prom night.
“Nope, my bad. Let me fix it.” He pulled out of me and then wrapped his hand around my cock. “Put your hands above your head?”
“Why?” I said, laughing, but I did it anyway.
“Dunno,” he said. “Just thought it would look sexy. It does.” He dipped his head to kiss me, then began a gentle stroking that made me gasp shakily. “Yeah, thought that would look good.” He swirled his tongue around one nipple, his eyes rolled up to watch my reaction.
I closed my eyes and arched into his mouth and his hand. The pillow made a handy thing to grab and pull at so I didn’t reach for him and do anything to ruin the moment. His teeth came down briefly on my nipple and I yelled, “Ah!” before begging him to do it again, to scrape his teeth over my chest and make me come.
He nipped me one more time before propping himself up on his elbow so he could see me clearer. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he told me. “Come on. Give it to me.” He watched me with a fierce possessiveness that was just as arousing as his hand caressing my cock. All I could do was lie there, helpless beneath his hot gaze, and ride the waves of passion as he worked my body until I convulsed and came, wailing with the pleasure of it.
While I recovered, he gathered me into his arms and cradled my head on his shoulder. “I should do that more often,” he murmured.
“Yes, you should,” I said, refusing to open my eyes as I grasped at the last wisps of my orgasm.
