“It’s mine, El,” he growls, looking up at me. “Only mine.” He goes right back to driving me crazy with his tongue.
My second orgasm hit me like a lightning strike. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and my mouth opens in a silent scream. I think I'm having an out-of-body experience because I don’t remember him stopping or taking his shorts off.
However, the next thing I knew, he was between my legs with one of my thighs tossed over his forearm and his body hovering over me as he pushed into me. My pussy makes the loudest wet squishing sound ever when he enters me.
I whimper as he settles every inch of himself in my tunnel. He doesn’t move once he’s inside me. Instead, he lets go of my leg, places his elbows at the sides of my head, and his forehead drops to mine. With a deliberately slow movement, he slides out of me and then slowly pushes back in so deep I gasp. Mitchell keeps that pace. Slow exit and a slow entrance with a grind of his hips. His pelvis presses against my hardened nub with each thrust.
My body was in overdrive with all the sensations. The heat from the fire, the weight of him pressed against me, even the panting of his warm breath against my face, was all working to heighten my senses.
I gripped him closer, one arm under his arm and wrapped around his back, while the other arm held him by the shoulders. My knees were tucked at his waist while my feet pressed against his ass cheeks. We were tangled up with each other.
This felt different, and unlike anything I had experienced before. It wasn’t two people fucking to reach their own peak. This was slow and emotional. It was him trying to reach my ribs with each thrust. There were no words spoken, no demands, yet I understood this fully. This was his way of staking his claim. He was telling me I was his and no one else could make me feel the way he did. This was his reminder that my cookies belonged only to him.
This was beautiful, euphoric, deep, and unhurried. It felt so good that tears leaked from my eyes and rolled down my face toward my ears. In this moment, I felt more cherished and loved than I had ever felt in my life.
Mitchell raises his head from mine and runs his tongue along the tear tracks on my face.
“Mitchell,” I whimper.
“I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he continues to lick my tears.
Every movement was slow and methodical. Every thrust had a rhythm that was perfect. Mitchell wasn’t fucking me, this was lovemaking on a connection that was higher than this plane. He was making love to my soul, not just my body.
And I knew then that the words I’d been fighting, the ones that I was terrified to say out loud out of fear of what they would do, had to come out. Because no matter how this ends, I have to accept that I am deeply, fiercely, and unbelievably in love with this man.
“I love you.”The moment the words are out of my mouth, Mitchell stills.
His gaze, which was once locked on the tears on the side of my face, moved back to mine.
His eyes closed, and a shudder shook his shoulders.
“Say it again.” The plea in his voice is unmistakable.
“I love you, Mitchell Declan Miller. I love you so much.”
He kissed me, shoving his tongue into my mouth.
“I love you too. Fuck, I love you too.” His words are said as if he’s desperate for me to believe them.
He continues his deep and slow thrusts. The pressure against my clit has my body shaking, my panting increases until I come undone. My orgasm isn’t as electrifying as the other two, but it flares up in a wave and when it crests it shakes my body to the core.
Mitch grunts in my ear, and then I immediately feel the heat of his nut washing my walls. We stayed like that, wrapped up in each other's arms, bodies sweaty. When he finally pulls out of me, he rolls to his side. I turn to face him. He plants a kiss on the tip of my nose.
“I’ve never been so happy in my life. You make me happy, Mitch.” I admit. The smile slowly falls from my face. “Promise you won’t hurt me.” I know that was a tall promise to make, but I need that assurance.
His brow pinches slightly. He reaches out and grabs my hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. He takes a deep breath and blows the air out against my face. Without him saying a word, I knew something was off.
Runs Dry
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ella
Mitch and I spent most of Saturday at the cabin. We fished, talked, hiked, and made love. The man fucked me all over that cabin. I’m sure I made up for all the women that never got to step foot in the place.
Now, we were heading back to reality. The entire ride home, we held hands. We were like two teenagers. When he pulled his truck in front of my house, I didn’t think anything of it. He grabbed my bags and, like the gentleman that he is; he walked them my front door.
The moment we walked into the house, he placed my bags down at the door and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me.
