“Don’t,” she says.
I slap her ass hard enough for her to cry out. It’s a cry of pleasure, with just a hint of pain. I would never have done it, except that I remembered Abby liked being spanked back in college. I was banking on her still liking it.
I grip her hips and move her back, giving me a little space. Her eyes meet mine.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to be telling me what to do right now,” I say.
“Says the guy with the bad knee,” she quips.
“I don’t need two functioning knees to bring you to yours.”
With that, I position her over my mouth again, giving her one slow, long lick. I do it again. And again and again until her legs are shaking and her cries of pleasure are echoing through the lighthouse. Her climax is delicious. The taste, the sound, the way she literally can’t stand afterwards and sinks down onto my lap again.
She rests against me, her head on my shoulder, her arms wrapped around my waist, and I hold her, resting my cheek against her head. We sit like this in silence for a couple of minutes, and I realize the rain has let up outside.
“It’s not raining as hard,” I say. “Do you want to go back?”
She sits up straight, my arms falling off to the side.
“We’re not done here,” she says and starts to pull at the waistband of my boxer briefs. I lift my hips again so she can remove them fully, and when she settles back on my legs, her wetness coating my thigh, and wraps her hand around my still-aching cock, I nearly black out.
It’s not like it’s been a long time since I’ve been touched, but being touched by Abby is something else entirely. She seems to remember exactly the kind of pressure I like and how fast or slow to stroke me. I’m not a complicated man, and the truth is that Abby could touch me any way she wanted and I would probably find it pleasurable.
I tangle my fingers in her hair, bringing her neck to my lips. I suck at the sensitive skin there, knowing damn well it’s going to leave a hickey when I’m done.
“Are you leaving marks?” she asks, her voice laced with pleasure.
“Mmhmm,” I murmur against her skin
“Why?”
“To mark my territory,” I say into her ear.
“But I’m not yours,” she says, her voice a sultry whisper.
“You are right now.”
I claim her mouth then, kissing her in a way that shows her exactly how possessive I feel. To her credit, she meets my fire with her own. She tightens her grip on me, stroking with urgency, like she’s chasing her own pleasure by working me.
I’m losing my grip, feral and clutching the blanket for some semblance of control. It feels so good to be touched like this. To be touched by Abby. I want more, but I want her to decide if she wants more.
“I’m going to come, Abby,” I say, raspy and desperate.
“And if I want you to come inside me?”
I meet her gaze then, searching her eyes for any hint that she’s teasing or doesn’t actually want that. But she gives me a slight nod.
“Say it. Tell me what you want, Abby.”
“I want you to come inside me.”
“Do you have?—”
“I have an IUD,” she says. “And I got tested after Todd, and I’m all clear.”
“I got tested after my last partner as well. Clear for me too.”
“Good.” She plants a soft kiss on my lips.
