Page 46 of Aviator
“Lie on the bed with me,” he says, and I practically leap onto it.
We’re both still wet from the shower, but neither of us seems to care. We wind up on our sides, one of my legs wrapped around his waist. His now fully hard erection grinding against my needy clit.
He pauses for a second to reach into his nightstand for a bottle of lube. Seeing it sends a bolt of heat straight through me at the thought of him using it to jerk himself off. He pours some into one palm, then strokes the lube over his dick. Then he rubs some over my clit with his big, masterful fingers until my eyes flutter closed. My fingers clamp down on his skin, and I’m positive my nails leave marks.
“That feels s-so good,” I say with a shuddering breath.
There’s a thud of the bottle as he chunks it over his shoulder on the floor, then he’s hitching my leg back over his hip so he can work his dick against me. I haven’t done something like this since high school, and God, I want him inside of me, but the tease is almost as good as the real thing. The slippery feeling from the lube givesexcellentfriction, and he sets a relentless pace.
I grip him tight to me like a boa constrictor winding around its prey. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, his hands grip my hips and pull me impossibly closer. My head is tucked in the curve of his shoulder, and he whispers thedirtiestthings. I swear I could come from the words alone.
“I bet that pussy would take me so good. Swallow me right up. You’d take it like such a good girl, wouldn’t you, princess?”
I mewl incoherently in return, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“I’m gonna fuck you deep and hard and slow until you come all over me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He glides against me in a steady rhythm that has me seeing stars. From the moans coming from his mouth, I swear he’s going to come again, too. “I bet you fucking would.”
“Please,” I whisper against his skin. I don’t know what I’m begging for, but he does.
He nudges me until I’m on my back, opening my legs until I’m spread wide for him. He presses his dick against my clit and grinds against me, the head pressing the bundle of nerves at the perfect angle.
“Put your hands here,” he says, and I reach down. He arranges them so I’m basically jerking him off as he rubs against me, allowing me to control the angle and pressure.
“Oh, fuck,” I whisper, and he chuckles darkly.
He’s now hands-free so he can reach up to tweak my nipples. He pinches, flicks, and sucks them into perfect attention.
But more than that, his look finally pushes me over the edge. Our eyes meet, and he sucks his lower lip in like I’m the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. He must see my expression change because he leans closer, spreading my legs wider and pumping faster as he says, “Come on, come on, come on.” Like a chant. Or a prayer. “I’m gonna fucking come,” he adds like he’s surprised.
The thought of coming with him takes my orgasm and flings it higher, higher, higher.
CHAPTER TWENTY
DEAN
I clean her up again,and after she uses the restroom, I tuck her back into my bed naked, where she belongs. She falls into an immediate deep sleep, but I stay awake for a while, enjoying the feel of her bare against me. Then I drift off, following her and content for the first time in longer than I can remember.
The next day, there’s still no word from Riley or her family. The roads aren’t completely clear, so I convince her to stay another night. We spend the day shooting the shit with Gramps. She vegges out on the couch with the cat in her lap, and I swear it feels like she’s meant to be there.
We ignore the news because stories of our crash have been splashed on every possible news station and social media platform imaginable. This also brings to light Georgia’s death and my time in the Marines, neither of which I really want to rehash, so I show Kenna around our little homestead.
She goes nuts over the goats and the little baby born a few weeks prior. I swear she would have brought it inside if I would have let her. She didn’t push, though, and I’m grateful because I get the feeling there isn’t a lot that would make me say no to her.
We collect eggs from the chickens and walk around the gardens while I explain which stubby little plant used to be what the spring before. I show her which plants we’re going to use in the spring. She seems fascinated and gets a kick out of eating the food we preserved for dinner.
Then we fall back into bed, maybe a little drunk off of wine, and she strokes me to another quick orgasm and uses my cum as lube to let me stroke her to a quick orgasm of her own. If I’m counting correctly, today was the last day of her period, depending on how long hers last. And if I’m right, I plan to makehermy breakfast.
* * *
The next morning, I wake to her wiggling out of bed. I hear the shower turn on and imagine her getting under the spray and all those lush curves glistening with water. My dick is already hard, having been resurrected after years-long celibacy.
The shower is quick, and soon, she’s crawling back into bed wearing only a towel. She curls up next to me, and I slowly tug the towel away from her body. If there’s any shyness left in her, I can’t see it.
I could beat around the bush, but I’m nothing if not direct. “Are you still on your period?” I ask.
She bites her lip, unable to hide her grin. “Nope,” she says, emphasizing the P.
Thank fucking God. I lay on my back and slap her ass. “Climb on me,” I say, and she scrambles so quickly I can’t help but chuckle. I wouldn’t care if she was, but I know based on her reaction before that sex on her period isn’t appealing to her. I want to respect that.
