Harley
Coming inside from the cold, I rubbed my hands together. There was never a time I didn’t enjoy coming home. My home was my nest.
But coming home with Daire?
Anticipating the dirty deeds he would do to me in our bed?
That was phenomenal.
It amazed me how my level of confidence seemed to grow in correlation to his level of dirtiness.
His deep voice broke into my thoughts.
“How long do you need to get ready for me?”
My body snapped to attention at his tone. I tilted my head to the side. “Fifteen minutes?”
“Good.” His eyes met mine. “In fifteen minutes, I want you kneeling beside the bed facing the bedroom door. The only thing I want you wearing is that red lipstick you so blatantly teased me with at The Beaver Dam on our first ever non-date.”
It’s too soon to tell you my thoughts about that mouth and the rest of your delightful body…
I shivered with anticipation.
His eyes lit up as a smile curved his lips.
“You like that,” he murmured.
I leaned toward him. “I’ve been waiting for this.”
When he walked into my room exactly fifteen minutes later, the bulge in his pants had me salivating.
Wasting no time, he jerked his belt to the side to release the buckle, then slid it from the beltloops and dropped it on the floor before coming to stand in front of me.
I tipped my chin back to look up at him, ruby lips parted.
His eyes heavy, he muttered, “You have no idea what seeing you like this does to me.”
“Show me,” I whispered.
Tucking his fist under my chin, he tapped my bottom lip with his thumb.
My tongue darted out to lick him.
His jaw tightened.
His thumb pressed harder, sweeping across my lip to my cheek. “I want to see just how messy we can make you.”
I gulped.
“Undo my jeans.”
With shaking hands, I released the button and tugged down the zipper.
“We’re going to do this the quick and dirty way, okay?” he asked, his voice gritty. “If I’m holding your head and you want to stop, just tap my thigh.”
If I’m holding your head.
I grew slicker between my thighs as I wrapped my hand around him.
He grasped my wrist. “Did I say you could use your hands?”
My eyes widened. This was the same Daire I’d come to know, with a sharper edge.
My pelvis jerked forward. I shifted my weight back and forth on my knees and shook my head.
“Pull my pants down to my thighs.”
I did as he asked, taking care not to touch him.
“Good girl,” he grunted. “Hands clasped behind your back.”
He hissed in a breath as I complied. “Look at those tits, Harley. One day I’m going to come all over them.”
My head fell back.
The mouth on this man.
The imagination on this man.
“Tip your chin up, open your mouth, and show me your tongue.”
My eyes skittered back and forth.
I felt stupid showing him my tongue.
“How badly do you want this, Harley? I was under the impression this was something you wanted?”
I nodded quickly. “I do.”
“Then show me your tongue.”
I stuck it out further, opened my mouth wider, and lifted my eyes to his.
He stared down at me, mouth agape, eyes heavy.
“Keep it open,” he growled.
Stepping closer, he dragged the head of his cock over my tongue and along my top lip, smearing my lipstick just as he had with his thumb.
He groaned. “This, you, Harley,” he uttered. “This may go a lot faster than I thought. Where do you want me, tits or throat?”
“Throat this time,” I replied immediately.
“Fucking perfect,” he muttered. “Open.”
Sliding his cock between my lips, he flexed his hips, dragging himself over my tongue.
Saliva built up in my mouth.
I wanted to suck him.
Surely this wasn’t all he wanted. He was doing all the work.
I shifted, restless, on my knees.
His cock caressed my tongue.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
Jaw clenched, lips pressed into a tight line, dark eyes lit with desire.
Butterflies erupted in my womb as I closed my mouth around him and rippled my tongue along the length of his shaft.
“Harley,” he said sharply.
My eyes flew back to his. I slackened my jaw.
“Better,” he grunted as he flexed his hips. “You want to suck me off?”
I nodded, my eyes locked on his.
He flexed his hips again, dragging his cock across my tongue, over my bottom lip.
His breath came faster. His hands fisted at his sides before tangling in my hair.
“Do it,” he hissed.
I hummed low in my throat, wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, and traced its edge with the tip of my tongue.
The guttural noise he made in his throat sent a flood of wet streaming from my core.
His cock pulsed and I took him to the back of my throat, eager to show him how deep I could take him.
“Harley,” he grunted my name. His hips jerked. His hands tangled roughly in my hair.
I was ten feet tall.
An amazon woman.
A supermodel.
The sexiest woman alive.
I was the one kneeling, but he lay at my feet.
Tightening his hold on my hair, he pulled out abruptly. A long line of saliva stretched from my mouth to his cock. I moved my hands to wipe my face.
“Hands,” he barked.
Startled, I looked up at him. “I’m just going to wipe my face.”
“Look at you,” he gritted out. He ran his hands over my head, smoothing my hair back from my face into a ponytail. “Lips swollen, lipstick smeared all over your face, your saliva pooling in your mouth.” He groaned. “Harley, tip your head back.”
I obeyed immediately, the line between us snapping.
I was a mess.
And he loved it.
Aching to be filled, my pelvis shifted forward.
“Soon, Harley,” he crooned. “Put your hands on my thighs. If you need to stop, slap my thigh. Okay?”
I nodded.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth now.”
My pussy clenched.
My breath caught.
I nodded again.
My eyes rolled back in my head, and I closed my eyes as his hand tightened around my hair, anchoring me in place.
“Open.”
His first thrust took me by surprise. I gagged. Dug my nails into his thighs.
I thought he’d be gentle.
My breasts ached. I shifted closer to him.
“Relax your throat,” he demanded gruffly.
I spread my fingers.
Opened my throat and relaxed my jaw.
“Perfect, baby,” he praised.
I settled on my knees, ready to take whatever he gave me.
Stroking deeply, he hit the back of my throat.
I tilted my head back further.
Opened myself up.
And he pressed forward until my nose hit his groin.
His breath rasping, he pulled back before burying himself in my mouth once more.
Tears came to my eyes.
And I wanted more.
My hand stole around to the back of his thigh, found the crease of his buttocks, stole inside to softly stroke his taint.
“Harley, Harley, Harley,” he gasped, freezing in place.
That would not do. I wanted him to move.
Trailing upward, I found the tight pucker of his hole and pressed the tip of my finger inside.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, his hips moving fluidly, deeply, leaving me not a moment to catch my breath.
“Harley…” My name burst from his lips like a prayer.
I pushed my finger further inside him.
My name spat from his mouth like a curse.
My chest swelled with my deep inhale. My clit pulsed. I yearned to close my thighs to relieve the pressure, but I froze in place.
Tears ran down my face, adding mascara to the mess.
Pausing, he released my hair and cupped his hands around my face. His thumbs brushed the tears from my cheeks as he pulled back, but not out.
“Harley, you’re good?”
“Mm,” I hummed, releasing his cock. “Give it to me, baby.”
“That’s my good girl,” he breathed, taking hold of my head, he pressed forward and warned, “Hold on, pretty girl.”
My other hand found his ass, my fingers digging in to goad him to move.
He didn’t need any further encouragement.
Deep.
Unrelenting.
His rhythm sure, he took my mouth, pausing each time my nose hit his groin.
I swallowed around the head of his cock.
He hissed out a curse.
My feminine heart exalted in my power.
“Harley,” he gasped, his hips jerking to a stop, hot, bitter streams of his cum hitting the back of my throat.
I lunged forward, swallowed his head, and took the rest.
His body bowed over me, his thighs quaked.
One last time, his cock pulsed, the last of his seed spilling into my mouth, and he pulled out. Dipping down, his arms hooking me under my armpits, he threw me onto the bed and buried his face between my thighs.
I came immediately, my hips bucking off the bed.
His tongue plunged into my core.
I wanted more.
After all that, I needed more.
Crawling up the bed, he lay down beside me, his breathing as short and sharp as mine.
“You’re a beautiful mess,” he whispered reverently. “A beautiful fucking mess.”
“You like this look?” I rasped with a smug smile.
“I do,” he affirmed. “Now we’re going to shower, and then you and I have a date with a rope.”
“Sounds kinda kinky,” I teased.
He laughed. “Nothing ‘kinda’ about it. You game?”
“With you? Always.”
Harley
Valentine’s Day.
Who would have thought we could pull it off, but Daire pulled out all the stops. With Mom and Noelle on board, they were a force not to be reckoned with.
All I had to do was find a dress.
The old anxiety reared its ugly head and for a moment I considered going to Mistlevale. In the end, I scoffed at myself and strolled into All Your Tomorrows like I owned the place.
It helped that it was under new ownership. Shay, who I’d known for years through Susie, bought it after Christmas when she moved to Sage Ridge from Mistlevale. Much better at her job than the last owner, she made short work of finding me the dress of my dreams.
It hugged every one of my curves then billowed out softly from my hips, its sweeping curves complimenting my own.
My hair, swept up in an elegant roll, held a diaphanous, barely-there veil that settled around my shoulders light as freshly fallen snow.
And there was a ton of that outside the church. Mom laughed as I hiked up my dress and displayed the heavy winter boots I’d put on just to get inside.
The tiny room in the narthex of the church, the room customarily set aside for the bride to take a few quiet moments with her father before heading down the aisle, was like Grand Central Station.
The only ones not packed into the room with me were Max and Daire.
They were at the front.
I knew that for a fact as I’d already sent my dad to check.
With Hunter cradled in one arm, Hawkley reached for my hand and drew me close. “Harley, this happened so fast. Are you sure? I can whisk you out of here right now.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Better not let him hear you say that.”
Hawkley grimaced. “I know. I’m sorry. I just have to make sure.”
Like me, he was protective of the sibling he had left. I got it. I ran my hand over Hunter’s silky head, before smiling into Hawkley’s stormy eyes. “Thank you. I love you. I’m sure.”
He swallowed hard as he nodded and turned away.
Mom placed a soothing hand on his back, her gaze on me glossy. “Darling girl,” she breathed. “You are breathtaking.”
Nerves I didn’t know I had unknotted. The tension in my shoulders eased. And I smiled at my mom.
Turning to Hawkley, she hooked her hand into his elbow. “You have one job, son, and that’s to get me to my seat. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Noelle beamed at me as she gathered up our bouquets and handed me mine.
“I’ll give you and Dan a few minutes. I’ll see you on the flipside.”
The door closed with a quiet snick, leaving me with my big, cuddly, bear of a father.
He stood with his hands lightly fisted at his sides, his eyes soft on my face.
“To me, you’ve always seemed larger than life. I think Hunter saw you the same way. You amaze me. You always have.”
I sniffed and took a deep, wary, breath.
“I’m not going to make you cry, Harley, but there are times in a father’s life where he has to speak. And this is one of those times.
My voice locked in my throat, I nodded for him to continue.
“You were so tiny, the tiniest newborn I’d ever seen. Babies usually get bigger with every pregnancy, but you barely tipped the scales at five pounds. I remember standing outside the nursery, seeing you surrounded by babies almost twice your size. And your little voice, louder than every other baby in that room. I knew then you were a fighter.
“And you are.
“I hold two Harleys in my heart. The first is that tiny, five-pound baby girl I would have laid down my life for. Still would. Always will. Even though you don’t need me to be your champion anymore, it’s a role I will never give up. You will always be my baby.”
I swallowed and blinked rapidly.
“Then there’s the other Harley, the one I’ve watched grow with bated breath into the beautiful woman you are. I’m so proud of you. Mom told me a bit about what you’ve been struggling with. I want you to know. To me, you’ve always been ten feet tall.
A small sob parted my lips, but the panicked look on my Dad’s face turned it into a laugh. Clasping his big mitt around the back of my neck, he pressed his lips to my forehead.
We rolled out of that room together, the top of my head barely reaching his shoulder, fueled by our laughter.
At the front of the church, Daire stood beside Max, his hand on his shoulder, and a wide smile on his face.
Stepping forward where he could see me, I met Daire’s eyes.
His smile faded away to nothing.
His love for me stark and raw on his handsome face.
“That man loves you the way you deserve to be loved. It’s a pleasure to give you to him.” Dad patted my hand resting in his elbow. “Let’s get up there and put him out of his misery.”
She was too small to be noticeable when I walked down the aisle, but she was there, nestled in my womb, held like the most precious of secrets between his heart and mine. One that sparkled in his happy eyes every time he smiled at me.
Face-to-face on the altar, we beamed at each other.
Noelle stood on my left, intermittently sniffing. Max, tall and proud, took Daire’s right. And Hawk held Hunter in the front row between my parents on one side and Daire’s mom and John on the other.
When the time came, Daire’s hand trembled in mine as he slipped a diamond-studded band over my knuckle.
An eternity band.
That physical representation of his promise, in combination with the engagement ring, could probably have been seen from outer space.
The priest pronounced us man and wife, and in true Daire fashion, he swept me up in his arms and carried me out to the limo.
No need for boots.
Back at the resort, I danced first with my dad, then with my groom.
Daire chose our song. Halfway through our dance, I tucked my face in his neck.
I didn’t like anyone to see my cry. And I did cry. Those words in the song telling me that loving me was the best thing he’d ever do wrapped around my little heart and squeezed the joy clean out of my eyes.
Great gulping tears of happiness threatened to overwhelm me until I felt his big hand splay across my back as, his voice soft and low in my ear, he soothed me.
My cake was enormous, a task I later found out was doled out to Hawkley.
And the icing-to-cake ration? Chef’s kiss perfection.
Shortly after, I heard the opening notes to a song I did not expect to hear at my wedding, one that was intimately familiar and harkened back to blindfolds and earbuds. Noelle ushered me to a chair in the center of the dance floor while everyone circled around us.
Daire, pulling his hair back from his face to secure it in a bun at the back of his head, stalked toward me, a look of promises to be fulfilled later in his eyes.
I smiled back, literally sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting for him to discover just what wasn’t underneath my dress.
The DJ turned the volume up as Daire dropped to his knees and grinned wickedly as he gathered the edge of my skirt in his hands and threw it over his head.
His hand circled my ankle and lifted it from the floor as he nibbled up my leg to grab my garter with his teeth.
I knew the exact moment he made the discovery, the sudden jerk back followed by a stunted surge forward and a muffled ‘Fuck me’ making it difficult to miss.
Nipping my thigh with his teeth, he moved briskly to the garter and tugged it down the length of my leg and off my foot, his left hand holding my dress down to protect my modesty.
The look on his face was priceless.
Leaning over me, laughing, his lips met mine as he muttered, “Thank God I’ve got my jacket on. There’s no hiding this.”
Joy like I’d never known burst through me in that most perfect of moments.
Taking my hand, he pulled me up from the chair, and tucked me into his chest. “You’ll pay for that, little one.”
“I look forward to it,” I murmured back.
Releasing me, Daire twirled my garter around his finger as the single men vied for the opportunity to be next in line.
Who knew there were so many single men in Sage Ridge looking to get hitched?
Stretching it out like a slingshot, Daire shot it into the crowd. Max’s long arm reached out and snagged it out of the air, his height lending him a huge advantage over the others.
He winked at me and held it in the air like a trophy.
“You’re next, bud,” Daire crowed.
“Your mouth to God’s ears,” he replied, shaking his head with a laugh.
Daire swept me back onto the dance floor, then swept me off my feet. Swaying to the music with my feet dangling off the floor, he warned, “We either leave soon or you’re accompanying me into the bathroom.”
Suffice it to say, we were the first to leave.
Daire
She was beautiful.
Stunning.
The words to accurately express her radiance, or what this day meant to me, did not exist.
But my life’s purpose was clear.
That question that sometimes lingered in her eyes?
I would eradicate it.
I wanted all of her.
And I would settle for nothing less.
The moment she said ‘yes’, I began planning for this night.
Growing up the only child of a single mom equipped me with a female perspective many men didn’t have. Had my dad been around, I had no doubt I would have gravitated toward him.
But he wasn’t.
And losing him the way I did made me hang onto my mother that much tighter.
It also made me hyper vigilant. I noticed when a movie made her cry happy tears.
Or made her sad.
I cringed when she called me on my questionable treatment of the girls in my life, explaining to me just how hurtful words, dismissal, and even the most subtle of rejection could be.
I listened when she spoke of her wedding day to my dad, how she’d dreamed of it since she was a girl.
I understood what this day meant to Harley.
And I knew exactly how I wanted her to remember it.
As for me, to my dying day I would remember my shock and exaltation at the surprise she kept beneath her dress when I removed her garter.
That’s how I wanted her.
Unabashedly sensual.
Secure in the power of her femininity and its effect on me.
Reveling in the desire she sparked to flame with just a look.
“Where are we going?” she mused, her palm climbing ever higher up my thigh as I drove.
“You didn’t think I’d take you home, did you?” I teased. I loved to rile her the tiniest bit, watch the color rise in her cheeks, see her eyes flash.
“Well, yes,” she griped. “It’s close by and has a comfy bed. I’m not happy with the delay.”
I chuckled. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
She grumbled, “You better.”
Yes.
That’s what I wanted for her: to expect to be worshipped.
To demand it.
Pulling up in front of Mistlevale Manor, I swung out of the driver’s seat and passed the keys to the valet before opening her door and handing her out.
She tugged on my hand. “What about bags?”
“Wholly and completely taken care of,” I assured her.
“When?” she exclaimed.
I drew her close and enfolded her against my chest. “I’ve got everything under control. All you have to do is enjoy.”
Had I given her those instructions four months ago, she would have balked. The fact she acquiesced with nothing more than a smile exalted me.
The elevator didn’t stop until it hit the top floor.
Our room was exactly how I left it that afternoon.
“Oh,” she breathed, taking in the sight of dozens of LED tea lights flickering on every surface, the flower petals strewn across the bed, and the champagne chilling in a bucket of ice.
Her eyes widened when she took in the gift box wrapped in leather and lace resting on the nightstand.
“I’m going to pay sooner than I thought,” she murmured, a small smile creasing her rosy cheeks.
Cheeks that would soon be flushed bright red.
I nestled her under my arm. My perfect fit in every way. A deep sense of satisfaction permeated my chest. “You’re going to enjoy every minute of it.”
“I’ve no doubt,” she shuddered deliciously against me.
Reaching down, I adjusted my dick that was painfully obvious in its desire to bury itself inside her.
But I didn’t want to rush this for her.
“Do you want a glass of champagne?”
“Nope,” she popped the ‘p’ and grinned up at me. “Absolutely do not want to dull even a fraction of this night with you.”
Drawing her close, I bent my neck and kissed her deeply.
As always, locked in her embrace, that ever-present burning anxiety that she could slip away at the drop of a hat, quieted.
I breathed her in, her delicate perfume, the shampoo I could recognize anywhere, the subtle scent of her sweat and the sweetness of her arousal.
I groaned into her mouth, and she huffed out a soft, triumphant laugh.
My plan would take more effort than I thought.
I bent to clasp her wrists.
“Wait,” she protested, holding a palm to my chest. “I have something special to wear.”
I stopped and looked into her eyes. “Does it include panties?”
“Yes.”
I shook my head. “Later. Tomorrow. Next week. Any other time but right now,” I stated firmly.
Surprising me the way she did with her bare pussy in my face was tantamount to waving a red flag in front of a bull. Covering it up now, no matter how sweet the covering, seemed like a huge regression.
“Later then?” She laughed, her eyes bright and happy.
“Yes. No. Maybe our first wedding anniversary,” I amended. “You without panties is my new favorite thing. I might let you wear them by our first wedding anniversary.”
Throwing her arms around me, she tilted her chin back and laughed.
I stared down at her, imprinting this moment in my memory.
Her hair, that had been elegantly swept up when she first entered the church, now escaped in curls and tendrils around her pretty face.
I tucked one long curl behind her ear.
“I’m going to unwrap you like the most precious of gifts,” I whispered, turning her in my arms.
Planting my lips at the nape of her neck, my fingers skittered down her arms to the tiny buttons at her wrists.
Rounding to one side, then the other, I lifted her wrists to my lips, pressed a kiss to her pulse points, and released those tiny buttons. Smaller than I imagined, I had to fight the urge to rip the dress from her body so I could lay her out on the bed.
The whole while she stood quietly waiting.
Eyes half-closed.
Giving herself over to me.
Exactly the way I taught her.
I inhaled deeply, my breath shaking. “I can’t believe you’re here with me like this,” I confessed.
A gentle smile curved her perfect lips.
I brushed my mouth across hers and trailed the tips of my fingers across her abdomen as I returned to my place at her back.
Finding the clasp holding her dress together, I flicked it open, relishing her deep inhale. My fingers sought the zipper and tugged it ever lower, exposing the gently curving line of her spine.
My lips followed, landed at the small of her back, and elicited a low moan from her throat.
Her chin dropped to her chest as I rose and pushed the front of her dress over her shoulders and down her arms to rest on the fleshy roundness of her hips.
Standing behind her, I cupped my hands around those fleshy curves, squeezing as I dropped my mouth to the juncture at her neck and shoulder, alternately nipping and soothing that tender spot as she began to quake in my arms.
“I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“I am yours,” she murmured, turning her face toward me.
Capturing her chin, I kissed her.
Slow.
Soft.
Building her pleasure piece by exquisite piece.
Making her wait.
Waiting for her to break.
Taking note of the dance we’d honed to perfection.
As the tip of my finger rested on the perfect bow of her mouth, her lips parted.
My hands filled with her breasts, and she arched her back.
I grasped the twin globes of her ass, and she pressed back into my hands.
Sucking her nipple deep into my mouth, she hissed and twisted to offer the other to my hungry mouth.
And finally, dropping to my knees, my nose nuzzling the sweet apex of her thighs, she parted her legs.
My hands, my mouth, my tongue… and her perfect, ready response.
A dance artfully conceived.
And passionately performed.
The sweetness of her sighs
The whisper of her breath mixing with mine.
A delicate shudder foreshadowing the goosebumps dancing across her skin.
Her whimper of need, the harsh rasp of her breath, her arms flung wide, back arched to offer up her breasts, an offer I would never decline.
A breathy ‘oh’.
The quiver of her tummy beneath my tongue, followed by a delicious, guttural moan yanked from her throat.
And finally, the bite of her nails in my back.
This was the language our bodies spoke.
Whispered promises and muttered confessions, I pushed her dress down off her hips and laid her back on the bed.
But there was yet a word I needed to hear.
Circling her delicate ankles with my hands, I spread her legs wide, remembered the shock on her face the first night I did that, and climbed up the bed between them to notch the head of my cock at her entrance.
She gasped, her neck arching as I shallowed inside.
“Yes, Daire,” she praised, but she spoke too soon.
Because that was not the word I sought.
I brushed my mouth across her gasping lips.
Trailed my tongue over the sweet swell of her breast.
Swept my thumb over her clit.
“Please, Daire,” she breathed.
Closer.
Dragging the sharp edge of my teeth along her delicate jaw, I gave her another inch, and withdrew.
Beautiful, so beautiful, beneath me. What had I ever done to deserve her?
A sweetly feminine growl.
My cock jerked.
Closer.
Pushing one arm under her waist, my hand fisting in her hair, I forced her back to arch and her breasts to press against my chest. I angled her pelvis so that her clit rubbed against the base of my cock.
She rocked her hips and succeeded in sliding me the tiniest bit deeper.
Her nails bit into my biceps as she locked her mouth to mine.
I filled her mouth with my tongue and tightened my hold on her hair.
A needy grunt.
Closer.
Thank God.
My body shook with the need to plunge inside.
But first she needed to break.
Abruptly, I heaved myself away from her and she cried out, reaching for me.
“Lay back,” I cajoled. “Give yourself over to me.”
Nodding, she flung her arms wide and relaxed back onto the bed. “I’m yours.”
“You are,” I agreed reverently. “Mine to hold. Mine to love. Mine to fuck. Any way I want to.”
She shuddered and nodded in agreement, as she spread her thighs wider for me. Only for me. Only ever for me.
Her soft voice reassured me, “Any way you want.”
Dancing my tongue along her slit, I covered my mouth with her wet.
Marked myself with her sweetness.
Circled her clit.
Made her squirm madly, her fists clenching the sheets, her hips bucking up off the bed to chase my tongue as I teased her relentlessly.
She made an impatient sound deep in her throat.
I chuckled against her.
She hissed at me to let her come.
For a moment, I flattened my tongue against that sweet button, relished in the sharpness of her breath, the buck of her hips, and then withdrew.
Because she wasn’t there yet.
Wasn’t panting, her body jerking, her head shaking back and forth, telling me to finish her, and begging me to never, ever stop.
And for it to be as good as possible for her, she needed to be that desperate.
Caging her between my thighs, I braced myself on my elbows and began again, her body quivering beneath me.
Her eyes, the curve of her cheek, her lips, and the line of her jaw.
My teeth raked over the swell of her breasts, my tongue rasped the soft mound of her belly, I nipped the inside of her thighs and plunged my tongue into her core.
Nonsensical sounds flowed from her lips.
Her thighs shook.
Closer.
I kissed my way back to her mouth and filled it with her taste.
She took it readily.
She took everything I gave her.
And I pledged to give her everything I was or would ever be.
With my knees, I knocked her thighs apart.
She nodded frantically.
I notched myself at her entrance.
Swiveled my hips to tease her.
“Yes, Daire. Yes, Daire. Yes, Daire. Yes,” she hissed.
Closer.
I bit the top of her breast.
She jerked back, her legs spreading wider.
Linking our fingers together, I pressed her hands into the mattress above her head and thrust deep, forcing a grunt from her lips.
My eyes closed.
Bliss.
She held me perfectly.
I thrust inside her, deep and slow, again and again.
Waited for that telltale squeeze.
The stuttering of her breath.
A tensing of her muscles.
Finally, the desperate keening wail of my name.
That’s it.
The only thought left in her head as she dug her heels into my ass, her sweet pussy milking my seed from my body.
Just my name.
My name plucked from her soul.
Spilled from her perfect lips.
My seed bathing her womb.
The salt of her tears.
My kiss.
Our communion complete.