Текст книги "Beautiful Storm"
Автор книги: Megan Isaacs
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
GRAVEL SPRAYS LIKE shrapnel as I pull into my driveway. Coming to a stop, I drop my feet to the ground and balance the weight of the machine between my thighs. Out of habit, I tweak the throttle one last time, before dismounting, and then kill the engine.
My helmet is claustrophobic, encasing the turmoil in my mind. Flicking open the visor, I suck in air, but it’s not enough. The urge to rip the fucking thing over my head wins out. I grasp it with both hands and yank it off. Cool air rushes my face, and raindrops splatter on my skin, but they don’t extinguish the mind-fuck going on in my head. After I hook my lid over the handlebar, I raise my face to the sky, letting the rain soak my face, before swiping it away.
If only it would be as easy to wipe away the last fucking few years.
Disbelief that Lizzie never told me I’m a dad wages war with my surprise at being one. I need to see her, talk to my family. It dawns on me they are now one and the same.
My mind’s a mass of confusion. But one person can tell me if she’s still at Layla’s. Needing to speak to Bear, I pull out my mobile from my jacket and walk around the corner. That fucker owes me an explanation. I want to know why I was kept in the dark.
While I’m searching my recent call history, I near the entrance to my home and pair of sopping-wet jean-clad legs come into view. My stomach clenches as my gaze sweeps up the legs and locks on the uncertain gaze of a drenched Lizzie sitting on the step. My insides begin to vibrate, and I can’t tell if it’s anger or fucking desire causing the reaction.
We stare at each other for a few seconds before I tear my gaze away. With a quick glance, I scan the surrounding area. “Where is he?”
“With Layla. Noah, I… I’m sorry.” Her voice trembles with emotion.
No time to contemplate whether or not it’s best for my son not to be here, my head whips back in her direction. “Yeah? So am I. I’m sorry I’ve missed years of his life.” Bitterness drips from every word.
She drops her eyes to the ground as her chest heaves, and I end up feeling like a bastard.
“Can we not do this here? Can I at least come in?” Her soft words hit home more forcefully than if she’d yelled.
My eyes rake over her saturated clothes. It registers she’s been here a while, in the fucking rain, waiting for me. I’ve got no fight left in me. Her proximity weakens all my defences.
“Yeah.” I motion towards the door.
Without my permission, my arm reaches out to help her up. As soon as her hand clasps mine, shockwaves run through my body. One touch. One fucking touch is all it takes to floor me. Angry with myself for being weak, I pull a little too aggressively on her hand. She overbalances on her way up, bringing her body into full contact with mine. Even soaking wet and shivering, her heat warms my soul.
I want to push her away, but the need to have her in my arms is fighting its corner. My thumb rubs lazily on her skin. Letting out a deep breath, I remove my hand from hers, and press on her shoulders to create a space between us. She takes the hint and steps away, gazing up into my eyes. She searches my face, looking for an answer to a question that hasn’t been asked.
My pulse begins to race. That, and the tell-tale twitch in my jeans, let me know I need to put more distance between us. I let go and step around her, before my weakness for her overrules the need to find out what’s been going on. Finding out about my son is far more important than giving in to my cock. I fumble in my pockets, locate my key, and unlock the door.
As soon as the door closes behind her, I know I’m in deep trouble. Her scent fills the hallway, engulfing my senses. Rainy days and sunflowers. My whole body stills, tension radiates through every muscle. I’m on the verge of turning around, pushing her up against the wall, and claiming what should be mine.
“Noah?”
Her voice is fucking husky, no doubt from yelling after me. But it’s doing nothing to ease my desire. My back is still towards her, and I fight the urge to turn around.
“No. Not yet. Just… just give me a minute.” The desperation in my voice is clear. I stalk off and take the stairs two at a time.
Running again?
Slamming my bedroom door behind me, I then I fall back against it. I need to sort my shit out. I pull away and angrily strip off my jacket, followed by all my other clothes, and throw them to the floor. Standing naked, I realise how absurd this situation is. The woman should be in my fucking bed. My son should be sleeping across the hallway. But I’m not that man, I don’t deserve that life.
I go to my dresser, take out some new boxer briefs, and pull them on. The sweats from earlier are next and I rummage around to find a tee to shrug on. I collect a few similar items for Lizzie. She must be fucking freezing. After giving myself a pep talk about inappropriate fucking behaviour, I suck it up and head back downstairs.
Lizzie is still waiting in the hallway, her stormy eyes meet mine and she wraps her arms tighter into the wet clothes.
My steps slow to a stop. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I… Er… I didn’t know what you wanted me to do, so I waited here.”
“Fuck, Lizzie. It’s not like you don’t know your way around.”
Her eyes shift to my chest before returning to my face.
“Yes, but things change.”
I stride towards her but stop myself before getting too close. Holding out my arms, I offer the clothes over to her. “Here, go get changed. You’ll freeze if you don’t get out of those wet things. You know where the bathroom is.”
Her eyes widen slightly and a flush creeps up her cheeks. Has her mind gone where mine has? Memories of fucking in the shower flood my mind. Wet hair in my hand, water droplets glistening on our skin, pinning her against the wall, the pleasured little moans as I thrust deep into her. I take yet another deep fucking breath. “I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.” Turning away from her, I walk off.
I need to get a hold on these debilitating images. Fuck. I just need to get a grip on reality.
I pad barefoot into the kitchen, fill the kettle and put it on. In all honesty I want something fucking stronger but I know I’ll have no self-restraint going down that route. Pulling out two mugs, I busy myself making a coffee for me, and Lizzie a tea.
Tea. I can’t stand that shit… but I still have fucking teabags.
I pause over the thought, then grab the coffee for myself.
Her scent permeates the air again. As I turn to see where she is, my breath catches in my throat and my stomach constricts. She’s leaning in the doorway to my kitchen, with damp hair, wearing my fucking clothes. She’s foregone the joggers and is only wearing the tee. Coming just above her knees, there’s an expanse of leg on view, which my eyes run lazily down. She’s wearing a pair of chunky socks, found from somewhere, pushed down at her ankles. She looks like heaven, and my dick agrees.
“I hope you don’t mind.” She motions to her feet.
I struggle to find words, just end up shaking my head instead. Of course, I don’t mind. I would pay good money to have that view one more time.
She takes small, tentative steps into the kitchen, like she’s waiting for a lion to attack. But her eyes roam my body as if she’s been starved of the sight. She settles in one of the two comfy chairs, folding her legs underneath her and pulling the T-shirt down to cover any exposed skin. I resist the urge to yell at her to stop.
“I suppose I’ve got some explaining to do.”
“You think?” The bite is still in my words.
Her breath leaves her body and her shoulders drop. “I have tried to tell you.”
“Yeah, you have, over the past week. What about the last three fucking years?”
“Do you honestly think I didn’t want you to know?” she snaps back.
“How the fuck am I meant to know what you wanted? You. Never. Fucking. Told. Me.” My teeth grit and I slam her tea down, spilling it all over the small table between the two chairs. “Fuck.” I swipe a cloth off the countertop and catch the drips before wiping up the rest of the mess my temper created.
Her hand reaches out and touches my trembling arm. “It’s okay, Noah.”
I whip my head around to her. “It’s okay? It’s far from o-fucking-kay.” She retracts her hand like a coiling snake. At the loss of contact, the anger drains my body of all energy, and I slump into the other chair, throwing the cloth to the floor. My legs spread and I clasp my hands behind my head.
“Look, I’m sorry. This is just a fucking lot to deal with.” That’s an understatement. She’s like a fucking earthquake rocking everything under my feet. She fidgets with the hem of the T-shirt and watches her fingers, as I resist the urge to take hold of them. For fuck’s sake, stop moving.
“It was the day you left me.” She lifts her eyes to mine and the agony swirling in them is painful to observe. I don’t know if she wants me to say something, but for once I decide it’s best to just let her talk. Her chest stutters as she draws in a breath.
“When Mac… when he… well, you know.” I watch as she visibly steels herself. “When he tried to rape me,” she begins.
Her gaze drops from mine and focuses back to her hands as they fiddle with the hem of the T-shirt. The rage in me resurfaces and bubbles in my chest. She pushed me away to protect me from that motherfucker, when I didn’t need it, putting her on the firing line. Which meant I couldn’t fucking protect her. She took that from me. I slam the lid on the boiling pot, keeping my mouth shut. I’ve done too much yelling without listening. I nod my head at her when she looks up, willing her to carry on, but not wanting to hear what she has to say.
Fucking listen.
“When I left your house the day before we broke up, I told him it was over. I just wanted you and I wanted that part of my life, Mac, to be history. While he was on tour it didn’t really matter that much, but I couldn’t pretend anymore once he was home.” She laughs a little. “I didn’t even know if you wanted me… not properly, not until the next day. But I already knew I was pregnant; I’d done a test. I’d skipped a period. I’m not sure how that happened, I mean, as you know, I was on birth control.”
Yeah, I knew. She was on the pill. We’d always had ‘safe’ sex with other partners but wanted to feel each other raw. We’d gotten checked out just to make sure nothing had slipped through the net. It all felt clinical at the time, but the reward was well fucking worth it. Through my anguish, I manage a smile, because I know very well how it happened, just not why. My dick twitches again, the inappropriate bastard.
“You’d asked me to leave him, and even if you hadn’t meant it, or didn’t want to be a part of our child’s life when you found out, I still couldn’t stay there anymore.”
She pulls her now tear-filled gaze away from her fingers and glances across at me. Fuck me. The urge to wrap her in my arms is almost overpowering. I pull my hands from my head and rub them down my thighs. She scans my face for a second before returning to her nervous picking.
I need to listen.
I replay the words in my head like a fucking mantra, hoping my brain can gain some control on my body.
She picks up her tea and stares into it before continuing.
“He’d threatened me. Told me he’d kill you if I didn’t stop seeing you.” She gives me a small smile. “But selfishly I couldn’t not see you one more time. I didn’t understand how unstable he was. What he was capable of. I obviously believed him, but…”
I can’t sit still any longer. I want to rip something apart. Keeping my thoughts in is killing me. The need to comfort her is fucking unbearable. She lifts her head to watch my movement as I begin pacing the kitchen.
“When I went home after we broke up, he was waiting for me. They’d cancelled the tour because of his issues. I was so stupid leaving the test in the bathroom wastebasket. Obviously, the father was you. It couldn’t have been anyone else.” She chokes the words out. When I turn to look at her, my chest constricts. Tears trail down her cheeks and drop from her chin. She finally takes a sip of her tea.
“When I was in labour I nearly caved and begged Layla to ring you. But what would I have said? Hi, Noah. It’s me. I’m having a baby. I know I’ve not told you about him, but come hold my hand anyway?”
I can’t keep quiet any longer and turn to face her. “I would’ve fucking come.” The words spat out through gritted teeth.
I would have, had I known. I would’ve held her hand. But I wouldn’t have been able to. She wouldn’t have got hold of me. Around that time I had hit rock bottom and begged Bear to let me go on a job. I had needed to gain control, and that was the only way I knew how.
“Yes, I know you would. But at what cost?” she snaps at me.
My brow furrows and I stop pacing as I try to figure out what she’s telling me. “I don’t understand.” I really don’t. I can’t justify her actions in my head.
She fidgets again like she’s uncomfortable in her own skin. “He didn’t just threaten you. He… told me he would either fuck or kick my baby out of me.”
Her baby. My son. Fuck.
“I guess raping me would have achieved that in his mind. Alex arrived just in time. He managed to pull Mac off of me.”
“Lizzie, who the fuck is Alex?”
She smiles at my obvious jealousy. “He worked for Mac, though I guess he was more my bodyguard than his.”
I manage to fight down the other questions surrounding her answer.
“I wanted to come to you after, but knew it was impossible. He had connections. While Mac was around, I wasn’t safe. Our son wasn’t safe. And neither were you.”
She should have fucking come to me; I wish she’d had. That bastard would have been dead a lot fucking sooner. If she’d known what sort of person I really am she would never have gone through any of this shit. But she didn’t know and now’s not the time to tell her.
Anger courses through me. That fucker kept her and my son from me. But I can’t blame her for staying away, for not calling me. The rest seems pointless now. Her reason for leaving, her reason for staying away, is now dead. She has lived in fear of the weakest man on the planet. Because a man who threatens a woman and a baby is a fucking coward and deserves to be six feet under. I want to hold her in my arms but she’s wrapped her arms around herself as a shield. She’s had enough.
I need to lighten the situation before she goes into meltdown mode. So I ask something, which for now is more important than pushing her further.
“What’s our son’s name?” The words sound odd coming from my lips, but they bring a warmth to my chest I never imagined I’d feel.
Relief spreads across her face along with a heart-warming smile. “Kai.”
Well, fuck me. She gave him my middle name.
The air sucks out of my lungs as I close the space between us. Unable to stop myself, I grasp under her arms, lift her up, and wrap her around me. My forehead dips into the nook of her neck and I breathe in her scent.
“Thank you.” The words are soft but I know she hears them when she gasps and clasps my back tighter. Knowing I should put her down, but wanting her in my arms, I hold her for all I’m worth.
A question jumps into my mind, I can already guess the answer but ask her anyway. “How old is he?” I murmur the words into her neck. Her heartbeat begins to increase, matching my own quickened speed.
“He’s twenty-seven months, so a little over two. I talk to him about you all the time.”
Her words catch me off guard. I pull back and search her face. She’s not lying. The urge to kiss her propels my next move. I slide her legs from around my waist so she can find her footing. Releasing her from my arms, I step away and create some distance between us. It’s not much, but enough. Hurt flares in the depths of her hurricane-filled eyes, making the flecks glint in anger.
Reaching out, I graze my thumb lazily across her bottom lip. Her breath hitches in response.
“Don’t think I don’t want you. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” My voice is deep, raw, and full of need. “But we need to talk about where we go from here.” My cock has other ideas and is about to go and find a new owner because he thinks I’m depriving him for the fucking sake of it.
She nods at me as her searching eyes delve into mine. She takes a deep breath as they glisten with unshed tears.
“I love you, Noah. I always have.”
My lungs begin to burn, and I realise I’m not breathing.
“What do you want from me, Lizzie?” My voice quivers with uncertainty.
“You.” The tears breach, and fall down her beautiful face. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”
FRESH AIR SLAMS into my lungs. I step forward snake one hand around her waist, and she trembles beneath my touch. The other hand winds into the hair at the nape of her neck, holding her hostage. The tempest in her tear-filled eyes blazes, and resistance is pointless. I know I’m fucked. She’s my addiction. My Achilles heel. My downfall.
I inch forward and wait for any hesitation from her. But the flecks in her eyes only burn brighter, drawing me in like a flame.
The moment my lips graze hers, the blood in my veins ignite with desire, spreading like wildfire through my whole body. I’m done for. Gone. And I accept my fate. So I do the only thing I can.
I fall.
My tongue flicks out and surfs the seam of her lips. She opens up, allowing me access. I probe her mouth with tiny thrusts and she meets me halfway and deepens the kiss. Our tongues swirl and dance. Pouring every ounce of me into the kiss, I hope she accepts what I’m giving. What she already holds. A breathy moan escapes her as one of my hands fists her hair, and the other pulls her closer. Every hard inch of me presses against her softness. Delicate fingers trail over my back leaving tremors in their wake as I fight for control of my body. But it’s hers, she’s the puppet master, and holds all the strings.
My breath’s ragged as I break away, tugging gently on her hair to expose her face. Swollen pink lips and intense grey eyes stare back at me. Her chest is rising and falling like a stormy sea. There’s no other way to describe her, except beautiful. Unable to speak, I search her features and gently cup her face, as her fingers work into my waistband. My cock strains against her, desperate to be set free. As if reading my mind, her hand inches around and plunges into my boxer briefs. When her fingers wrap around my erection, my eyes shutter closed and a hiss escapes through gritted teeth.
Please.
I open my eyes, silently begging for something, anything this woman could give me. But her head is down, watching, as she circles her thumb over and over the tip of my engorged head. Her entranced eyes flick to mine, and my breath catches in my throat, but not from desire. Pain is etched onto her face, and in her eyes.
“What is it?” My voice is deep, but uncertain.
Her eyes shift nervously as I slowly wrap my hand around hers and pull it away from my cock.
“How many were there?” Her small voice is barely a whisper.
The question works faster than a cold shower, and my hard-on shrivels and dies within seconds.
Oh, fuck. How do I answer that?
I let go of her hand and run my fingers over my head. “Does it really matter?” I turn away from her, locking my fingers together behind my head. Shame washes over me, and I can’t bring myself to turn and face her. “We were over. You’d gone.”
Her sad chuckle tortures my eardrums. “That many, huh?”
I need to find a way to fix this. I can’t change my past, but it’s not going to ruin my future. But I can’t lie to her. Sucking in a do-or-die breath, I turn around to face her and spill the truth.
“I’ve been without you for three fucking years. I hadn’t heard your beautiful voice, I hadn’t felt your lips on mine, and I hadn’t felt your skin beneath my fingers.” I lock firmly onto her gaze, holding her with me. “Every day without you was another day in Hell. Yes, I fucked around, but they didn’t have a single part of me that belonged to you.” My hands drop from my head as I work my way back to her.
“They had everything.” Her gaze drops to the floor and her voice is timid, hurt bleeding from every syllable. I reach for her, raising her chin with my forefinger so she looks in my eyes. She needs to see the truth.
“No, Lizzie. All they had was my cock. I didn’t make love to any of them; they were a quick fuck against a wall in a dirty alley. They didn’t enter into my thoughts, because that’s where I kept you. They didn’t have my heart, because I left it with you. You didn’t want me, and I still gave them nothing that was yours.”
“You don’t get where I’m coming from,” she huffs impatiently, trying to wriggle her chin from my grasp, but I don’t let her budge. The sparks in her eyes glint angrily at me.
I keep my voice soft, although it’s a struggle. “Oh, I do, and while I understand it’s hard for you to come to terms with it, you need to understand that when I walked out the door I fell apart. I found a way to cope, to pick up the pieces.” My eyes search her features for a tiny shred of hope my fucked-up way of dealing with the pain hasn’t destroyed the only thing I’ve ever craved. “You may not like it, but… fuck, Lizzie, none of them were you.”
I drop her chin and wrap my arms around her waist. She doesn’t resist me, giving me the glimmer of hope I’m begging for. “You’re it for me. I live and breathe for you. I’m completely caught up in your beautiful fucking storm. I love watching the lightning sparks in your eyes when I’m deep inside you. I love the untamed tempest that swirls in them when you’re angry, like now.”
I reach up and rub my thumb across her cheek. “I love watching the sun burst through the clouds when you’re happy, and the calm after the storm. When you lie in my arms and look at me like I’m it for you. You’re like a whirlwind sucking me in to its depths and I love every minute of it. Because I love you. Not them. You.”
She sucks in a breath and her gaze locks onto mine. So I continue.
“But I will tell you this. If you don’t think you can get over the things that happened when we weren’t together… If you can’t forgive me, then walk away now. Because I can’t survive another rogue fucking hurricane.”
I’m putting my future in her hands. My pulse races and my eyes stay glued to hers, watching the emotions run through them, waiting for some form of response from her. She remains silent for what seems like a fucking eternity. Just as I think I can’t stand it any longer, she moves. Still silent, but she’s moving towards me, not away.
The tightness gripping hold of my chest releases infinitesimally, unsure of the outcome, uncertain if this could still be goodbye. Stopping within a few inches of me, her warm breath grazes my neck as she looks up, her eyes glistening with tears. My nerve endings are completely aware of her presence, and I’m fighting every inch of my natural instinct to push aside that fucking T-shirt and bury myself deep inside her.
She places her hand over my heart and I know she can feel the frantic beat pulsating against it. My breath hitches at her touch and I’m unable to look away from the eyes which have haunted my life for what feels like forever. I cover her hand with mine and her fingers flex on my chest. The sensation almost undoes me. My body is screaming for her to touch me in the way only she knows how, and all my blood flows south to my traitorous cock.
“I’d forgive you for almost anything.”
That’s all I need to hear. I sweep her up and claim her mouth with mine. Walking blindly with her wrapped around me, I head out of the kitchen. I need to be with her—in her. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, I tear my mouth from hers. “Are you sure?” And I nod upstairs.
“I’m yours.”
The huskiness in her tone unravels my resolve. I slide her down my body and to her feet. If she’s coming up with me, she’s doing it because she truly wants to, not just because I carried her there. I hold out my hand to her, praying she takes it. When her small hand locks around mine, I walk her up the stairs.
When we reach my bedroom, I wrap her in my arms as she slides hers around my neck. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me gently. It’s one small, tender kiss, but it removes any doubts circling my brain. My hands find the hem of the T-shirt and I fist it, using it as an anchor to pull her hard against me. She gasps at the contact with my hard shaft. My lips quirk into a cheeky smile. “Missed me?”
“You have no idea.” She breathes the words out in a whisper and they send ripples of pleasure through my taut body.
“If I’m too much, let me know. I don’t think I can be gentle.” I fist my hand into her hair. “Not this time.” I have to get the warning out there. I sure as hell don’t want to hurt her, but my balls are as blue as the midnight sky. Once I hit her sweet spot, there will be no going back.
“I told you before, Noah, I don’t need gentle. I just need you. Always only you.”
My mouth claims hers as my hands release the hem and snake down onto her thighs. In one slow movement, I graze my hands up them and up her sides, lifting the T-shirt to expose her. Her bare skin on my fingers sets every nerve in me on fire. She raises her arms to allow me to remove it. I throw the tee to the floor and it hits the pile of wet clothes from earlier. A reminder I’m now a dad. The woman in front of me is his mum. Together we make a family. My family.
I pull my eyes away from the pile and gaze in wonder at Lizzie. She’s the picture of perfection in underwear and chunky socks. I take her face between my hands. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
Her face flushes and I claim her mouth again, walking her back towards my bed. The backs of her legs hit the side and she falls onto it. I stand, mesmerised, and take in every inch of her. Perfect mounds of flesh erupt from her bra. Wayward hair splays out behind her. My gaze hones in on her satin-smooth skin. I can’t hold back any more. I need to be deep inside her.
One-handed, I rip off my own T-shirt and shrug down my underwear and joggers in one swift movement, using my feet to remove them. Lizzie’s eyes widen as she roams down my naked form and come to rest on my very hard, angry, pulsing cock. I palm it a few times and step forward as she sits up. Her hot mouth wraps around me in seconds and tremors run up my spine. My skin breaks out in goose bumps, completely hyperaware of her every touch.
Grasping my hand into her hair, I pull her off me. I’ll last about thirty milliseconds if she continues down that path. “Naked. Now,” I order, my voice raw.
“I’d forgotten how bossy you are.” She smiles innocently at me. She hasn’t forgotten at all.
I can’t play her game, not now. “I need to be buried up to my balls inside you, Lizzie. I need to feel that sweet pussy of yours squeezing the life out of my cock. Get your fucking clothes off. Now.”
Her chest rises and falls rapidly. She’s always loved my dirty mouth, which shocked the shit out of me. Removing the remaining items of clothing, she complies and positions herself in the middle of my bed. She runs her fingers along her glistening, enflamed lips, teasing me within an inch of blowing my load. I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel her skin on mine. Crawling onto the bed, I position myself between her thighs, trapping her hand between us.
“What are you doing, Mr. Hamilton?”
Her mischievous smile could light up my darkest hour. I rock my hips, ensuring to produce just enough pressure against her core. I know I’ve achieved my objective when she releases a low moan I feel all the way to my toes. The amusement on her face is replaced with pure, unadulterated desire. She’s never been more beautiful than she is now.
Leaning my weight on my forearms, I run my nose slowly down her delicate neck, taking in her arousing, sweet scent, placing feather-light kisses along the route back up. Her pulse increases in tempo as I breathe into her ear. “Exactly what you want.”
It’s all the answer she needs. She shudders beneath me, and her pelvis rises up to push against mine.
Taking my weight on one arm, I bring in the other, holding it flush against my side, and then reach between us. With a firm hand, I take hold of hers that’s still working her clit and pull it free. “That’s my job.” Her rainy day eyes remain mesmerised as I bring her fingers to my mouth and lazily wrap my tongue around each one. “Mmm, you taste like heaven,” I murmur softly against her hand.
I let go and she runs her fingers across the back of my head, pulling me closer. I take her mouth desperately, like a man who’s been deprived of air would take his first free breath. I’m rewarded with a sigh and her softening under my touch, as I nip and suck on her bottom lip. My hands roam down her body, touching, stroking, kneading, until I reach down into the valley of her legs. I tease a finger, then two, through her soaked and swollen lips, rubbing gently back and forth. She’s panting. Her hips begin to sway in time with my strokes, and I feel the frustration in her movements, desperately trying to gain the pressure I’m withholding just out of reach. Her nails scrape down my back and dig into my arse, trying to drive me into giving her what she needs.
“What would you like, Lizzie?”
She tries to push forward with her hips to tell me but I need to hear her.
“I want”—I suck on a nipple and release it with the graze of my teeth as she takes a sharp inhale—“you to tell me”—I plunge the two fingers into her depths, rotating them; she sucks them in and her walls clench around them before I withdraw them—“what you want, Lizzie,” I finish. I’m holding my fingers still, slightly dipped in to her pussy, as I ravage her mouth again. She’s panting harder, desperate, and fuck, I need her to tell me.
“I want you. Oh, God. I want you now.”
I sink my fingers slowly back into her before removing them. Her eyes widen, but soon calm, as I grab my cock and rub the thick head along her heat. She relaxes against me and I penetrate her hard, instantly stopping when I’m balls-deep. She throws her head back and lets out the most awe-inspiring sound. I can’t even begin to describe it. The feelings it induces are intense and have me vibrating from head to toe.
