Page 81 of Knocked Up in Alaska

About ten weeks ago. Dr. D had signed off on the birth control and, presumably, all the activities that would necessitate the pills to keep them fun and worry-free. It stood to reason she was completely healthy for any similar activities that were, by their nature, fun and worry-free. Except, for whatever reason, she was worried, and that realization gave him an insight into why. He kept his hands where they were but sat back so she didn’t feel menaced or pressured. “Did you ever do it before the baby?”

She shook her head. “Ah, no. That would be a no.”

“Okay.” He gave her thighs a quick squeeze. “Keep your hands where they are, for as long as you want.”

Her nervous gaze turned downright wary. “Why?”

“Just relax. Trust me. You deserve to try before you buy.” He dipped down, kissed the lower middle-finger knuckle of her uppermost hand. “Trust me.”

“Oh, God. All right.”

Repositioning himself, he started at the inside of her right knee and kissed his way along her thigh, taking plenty of detours as he made his way to the apex. Long muscles under silken skin loosened, then trembled. When he moved away and started the same process at her left knee, she sighed and lay back on the bed. At the apex, this time, he coaxed her uppermost hand away and guided it to her fluttering stomach before he went back to his primary objective and began licking and kissing her over and around her hand. Her legs splayed open, closed to clamp his shoulders, splayed open again in an uncertain rhythm he took to mean keep going.

He kept going, spearing the tip of his tongue into the gap at the base of her middle and ring fingers and licking his way down that protective seam. Her breath hitched as his tongue grazed the hot, wet territory beneath. Her fingers softened, went a fraction wider on his next pass. Saliva flooded the back of his throat. A very specific hunger requiring very specific satisfaction. Those guarding fingers went wider still on the next pass, but when he tried to brush her hand aside, she drew her knees up and locked her legs. “I can’t,” she groaned. “That’s really…enticing, but I just can’t. I hope you don’t mind.”

She was too funny. “I do mind,” he growled but kissed her unmarked thigh. Against her flesh, he asked, “Is this a hard no, or no, for now?”

“For now,” she panted as he put a mark on that thigh. “Maybe. I just…geez, why does it feel so good when you do that? I haven’t been down there in a while, to really…um…are you biting me? Oh God, you are. Okay. I feel like I ought to sort of check it out. Make sure everything’s tidy, before I just let you…let you…”

“Lilah?”

“What?”

He tilted her hand down and to the side, moved it just enough to uncover the top part of her pussy but keep the parts she was most self-conscious about shielded. “Just one more time, like this. Trust me?”

“Just one.” She sipped in a breath and held it, like a blindfolded prisoner awaiting the firing squad.

Determined to make it count, he leaned in, delved with his tongue and whipped her clit with the very tip in a circular motion. Her whole body arched off the bed on a gasp. Her free hand landed on his head. Before she could recover, he moved on to the flat of his tongue, counting it as all part of the agreed-upon “one” so long as some part of his tongue never left her. He laved, over and over, while her breaths grew shallow and her moans pitchy. Her hand went limp between her legs and her legs flexed to lift her hips higher, but…

“Oh, God, don’t…no more…I can’t…

…a deal was a deal. He took one additional liberty and kissed her clit, long and slow, while she throbbed against his lips.

“Ford!”

Fingernails raked his scalp and a heel dragged over his back. With one last appreciative press of his lips, he lifted his head and waited until her pent-up breath slowly drained. Her head lolled his way, and those heavy eyelids opened to reveal wide, dark pupils.

“Lilah?”

“Huh?”

He came up on his knees and levered his body over hers so she could look at him more easily. “Have you been taking those pills you got from Dr. D nice and regular?”

“The pills? Oh. Uh-huh. Every morning.”

“Okay, then.” With that as warning, knowing she didn’t need much at this point, he braced his arms on either side of her head and pushed into her. He meant to watch her as he did it, watch every nuance of her expression as he filled her, but damn, being inside her felt so good, so perfect, so much like the best kind of homecoming, he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting closed. But her hands smoothed over his face, his cheekbones, his jaw, and he figured all actually was okay, especially when one soft fingertip traced his lips.

He caught it, sucked her index finger fully into his mouth as he started to move. Here, too, his body failed him. He meant to go slow, let her dictate the pace, but that control he’d found for her abandoned him as soon as he sank deep, and he resorted to the sort of rhythm guaranteed to get the job done hard and fast. Only the potential of it being brutally hard, punishingly fast—a freedom he didn’t usually indulge in until he had a partner in a more buffered position than missionary—forced him to open his eyes and focus on her.

She lay below him, her hair flowing over the bed like a gilded river, her eyes glazed, her lips wet and parted. Her free arm cradled her breasts, protecting them from the reckless energy of this fucking. He sucked her finger hard, thrust hard, watched her head tip back until her chin pointed to the ceiling and her body arched, and tightened, and then tightened more, so she was a trembling embodiment of pure female need under him. He thrust again, held there, with plenty of his own muscles trembling now, while her body clung, clutched, sent tiny, rampant shockwaves running up and down his cock.

Ah, Jesus, I’m done for.

Her, too, thank Christ. Her hips jumped, jerked, bucked under his, and then slammed back for more at the same time a long, grateful moan filled his ears.

And then he really was done for. Done in. Useless for anything except to come like it was his first time and last time rolled into one and realize what a motherfucking genius he’d been to keep her finger in his mouth so every pleading, inappropriate thought that rolled through his brain didn’t spill from his lips. So he didn’t end up caging her in with words like, I love you. I need you. Don’t ever leave.

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