Page 21 of An Angel for the Cowboy
He lays me back on the bed and covers my body with his. The weight and heat of him, the feel of his arousal pressing against my thigh, is almost too much sensation. I wrap my legs around his waist, tilting my hips up in invitation.
"Not yet." He kisses his way down my neck. "I want to take my time with you. Want to worship every inch of you."
His mouth travels down my body, kissing, licking, sucking. He pays special attention to my breasts, lavishing them with attention until I'm writhing beneath him. Then he moves lower, kissing my stomach, my hip bones, and the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
When his mouth finally reaches my core, I cry out. His tongue is magic, knowing exactly where to lick, how much pressure to apply. He slides one finger inside me, then two, curling them just right while his tongue works my clit.
The pleasure builds and builds, a wave rising higher and higher. I chant his name like a prayer, my hands fisted in his hair.
"That's it, Angel," he murmurs against me. "Let go. I've got you."
The orgasm crashes over me, through me, and I shatter into pieces. He works me through it, drawing out every bit of pleasure until I'm boneless and gasping.
He kisses his way back up my body, and I taste myself on his lips. The gesture is intimate, raw and perfect.
"I need to be inside you." He positions himself at my entrance. "Need to feel your pussy grasping my dick."
I wrap my legs around his hips.
He inches inside, giving me time to adjust to his size. The stretch is intense, almost too much, but it feels so right. Like we were made to fit together this way. When he's fully seated, we both groan at the sensation.
"You feel incredible," he breathes. "So tight."
He starts to move, long, slow strokes that hit every sensitive spot inside me. I meet him thrust for thrust, our bodies finding the perfect rhythm. The pleasure builds again, different this time, deeper and more intense.
"Look at me," he says, and I open my eyes. "I want to see you when you come. Want to watch you fall apart."
The intensity in his gray eyes is almost too much. I see love there, desire, possession, devotion. Everything I've ever wanted reflected at me.
His pace increases, his thrusts becoming harder, more urgent. One hand slides between us to where we're joined, his thumb finding my bundle of nerves and circling.
"Chance!" His name is the only thing I can say, the building pleasure so acute everything else is shoved out of my mind.
"Come for me, Angel. Let me see it."
The second orgasm is even more powerful than the first. It starts deep inside and radiates outward, making my whole body shake. I cry out his name, my inner walls clenching around him rhythmically.
"That's it," he groans. "So beautiful."
His thrusts become erratic, and I know he's close. "Come inside me," I whisper. "Fill me up. Make me yours completely."
My words push him over the edge. He drives deep one last time and stills, his body shuddering as he finds his release. I feel the warmth of his seed inside me, marking me, claiming me in the most primal way possible.
He collapses beside me, pulling me close. We're both breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat, and I've never felt more satisfied in my life.
We lie in comfortable silence, our breathing gradually returning to normal. His hand strokes lazy patterns on my back, and I trace the muscles of his chest with my fingers.
"I can't wait to call you Mrs. McCord and wake up every day next to you."
"It's just six days away."
He pulls me closer. "Best New Year ever."
"Best Christmas ever," I counter.
I laugh, feeling light and happy and so deeply in love.
Epilogue
