Page 85 of Screwed (Dad Bod Contracting 4)
I breathe him, and feel him above me—a sheltering, powerful presence, his hard body pressed against mine, his shoulders blocking out the world, so there’s only him, only us. He kisses me, and I’m lost in it, my lungs and lips and brain and heart and soul fuse to his, wrap around him, tangle with him. His kiss, his murmur of need—I hear it and feel it all through me.
We move together, writhing and tangling hands, touching, exploring. I whimper, and he echoes it with a groan. His arm is curled under my neck, supporting me—his bicep is my pillow; his other hand is all over me, scouring my flesh, my breasts, my core, cupping my hips and palming my breasts. I roam his shoulders and claw at his buttocks, and then reach between us and find his condom-sheathed length. I guide him to my opening as I cup his balls and caress them as he nudges between the tight, throbbing lips of my core.
He moans my name, a whispered plea: “Nova…”
I nip at his ear and breathe my response: “James—oh god, James, please.”
I clasp his face between my breasts and cry out loud as he pushes into me, arching my back as he fills me. How can anything feel this good, this perfect? I didn’t know it could be like this—that this exquisite ache of accepting him inside me could feel so incredible, that I could burn and throb from the way his thick, pulsing erection splits me apart and stretches me; I cry out, not just a wail of pleasure, but an actual sob—his name, always his name on my lips.
He coils over me, thrusting fully into me and curling his body down, contracting his torso, hands trailing down my breasts. His groan is a long, drawn-out snarl of relief, pleasure, and pent-up need.
“Nova—” he murmurs, and withdraws.
I hook my ankles around his flexed taut buttocks, draping my thighs open to take him deeper, pushing up against him as he begins to move. Slowly, dragging out of me and plundering back in, he leans over me to stutter his lips down my chest, tongue flicking with haphazard desperation against my nipples.
“Oh fuck, Nova.” He groans, and I feel his abs tense. “God, Nova. My Nova.”
I clutch at his face and nip at his earlobe, bite down on his shoulder as his slow, powerful thrusts wreck me, again and again and again, driving me to weakness, to gasps of burgeoning climax—within minutes. How long? No clue, and I couldn’t care any less how long, because each second is absolute heaven.
He writhes with helpless desperation against me, his sighs becoming groans, his groans becoming growls, his growls becoming a chanted pleading of my name.
“Nova—Nova—Nova…” He drags a kiss over my cheek, seeking my lips.
I palm his face, take his mouth and show him what a kiss is—ragged and wild and manic. I sob into the kiss, because I’m lost, I’m on fire, I’m exploding.
“I don’t want it to stop,” he whispers.
“Me neither.”
“But I can’t—god, goddammit, oh god, Nova—I can’t—I can’t stop. I can’t…” He bites down on my lip, hard, and I squeal in surprise, and then return the nip, the bite.
“Don’t—don’t, James.” I breathe into his ear, urging him to move by clawing at his flexing buttocks, by driving against him, demanding more from him, begging for more every way I know how. “Don’t stop, don’t you fucking dare stop.”
“I want it to last forever,” he pants, “it’s too soon, but I can’t fuckin’—oh god, oh fuck, Nova, god, my love…you feel too good, and I can’t help it.”
I palm the hard-tensed round flexing muscle of his buttocks and move against him, panting in unison with him. “James, please—” I plead, my voice too broken for anything but a sobbed whisper. “Now, James. Come with me—I can’t wait.”
And, indeed, I can’t. I don’t try. I explode around him, my core clamping down so hard I feel every inch of him as he throbs and thrusts inside me. I cry, I wail, I bury my face in his throat and let myself scream out loud, a half sob, half scream, a breathless shriek that deafens even me, an orgasm detonating deep inside me and spreading like wildfire, like an atomic bomb is rippling outward from my core.
As I come, James roars, thrusting into me with wild, rough, careless, ravaging power, and I take it all and meet him thrust for thrust. I feel him come. I’m clenching around him in wave after wave of climax, and with each clench I feel him throb thicker and harder, and I feel him push deep, feel him tense, falter, and then his forehead rests against mine and his voice is breaking, hoarse as he grunts through clenched teeth.
There is not a single vestige of control left in him, now, and I treasure down to my very molecules the crazed abandon in the way he moves with me; we meet each other in climax, his snarls matching my screams, his slamming grinding slapping thrusts mirroring my furiously gyrating hips. There is only us, only this, our voices and our bodies and our love become something neither of us knew could be possible.
