AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’s on me in a moment, and his arms wrap around me, crushing me to him. “Reese…”
Then his mouth is on mine. Our tongues duel as we devour each other, only breaking for the instant it takes to shed our shirts. I arch against him as his hands glide over me.
His touch feels like he’s bringing me back to life. I’ve missed him so much.
I’m frantic. He’s frantic. His fingers skate down my spine and farther, into my pants as he grabs my ass. I undo my fly, and he shoves my pants down as he drops to his knees. Kisses land on my belly and hips, and then lower, before he takes my cock in his mouth.
It’s been too long—six weeks—since my last orgasm, and I rise too quickly, too sharply. I try to claw him off me, but he takes my hands in his and looks into my eyes as he sucks deeper—
And I’m lost. Gone. I come crying his name, and he moans around me as I shoot down his throat. I’m weak after, my knees shaking, my knuckles clenched into hard ridges as we hold each other so tight our fingers go numb.
We end up on the couch, completely entwined, naked bodies rocking and thrusting as we kiss and gasp and try to breathe each other in. His hands in my hair, my hands scraping down his back. I harden against his thigh again.
“I want to spend the rest of my life loving you,” he whispers.
We move as one. His cock slides over my belly, my hip, my own cock. I lift my other leg and wrap it around his waist. His hands thread through mine, and he pins me to the cushions.
His eyes go wide, and he comes with my name falling from his lips. I come apart beneath him, trembling and shuddering and bucking as he keeps thrusting. I’m in pieces.
We lie together, panting, trying to let our hearts calm. My fingers trace patterns between his pecs, slide over the flat planes of his stomach.
“How long do we have?”
“You have me for the rest of your life.” I stretch, hooking one thigh over his hip. “And for the whole weekend.”
“No interruptions? No duty?”
“Nothing short of nuclear war.”
“Even then.” He kisses me, and what starts sweet and simple becomes so much more.
He takes me apart with his mouth, until I’m nothing but frayed nerves. Then I go down on him, and I ask him to teach me exactly what he wants from my lips and my tongue. He does, and I suck him as I massage his balls, stroke his thighs, press my fingers against his hole.
Then I devour his ass. Anal isn’t new to me. Brennan is the first man I’ve been with, but this isn’t the first time I’ve dived face-first into a perfect pair of cheeks. I hold his thighs back, bend him in half, and go to town. I missed this the first time, and I’m not making that mistake again.
Brennan grabs the couch cushion, a throw pillow, yanks on my hair. I take his hand in mine. His nails gouge the skin on my palm.
I reduce him to moans, to little jerks and quivers and then the soft undulations of his hips as he tries to fuck my face. My tongue is buried as far as it will go and my fingers are playing with the rim of his hole.
Merde, I want him again. I want to be inside him, so deep I can feel his thoughts moving in my mind. I rise and wrap his legs around my waist as I kiss him, then whisper, “Put your arms around my neck.”
He does, and I stand and carry him down the hall of the presidential cabin and into his bedroom.
We hit the bed and roll, kissing like we haven’t just burned up the air between us. He’s in my lap, pressing us skin to skin, chest to chest, lips to lips. He lunges, fumbling on the nightstand until he yanks open a drawer, and then passes me a new bottle of lube. “I was going to try and get you out of my system.”
He was going to fuck himself and think of me, then try to forget me.
I slick myself and him. He holds my face in his hands. We stare into each other as I move into him, and all the endless nights and anguished days, all the heartsick aching and the rubbed-raw blisters on my soul, all the ways I’ve been wrong without Brennan, go up in smoke. This is right. This, us, is everything.
He rides me slowly. I kiss his chest and bite down on his nipples, then lave them with my tongue. My hands roam the expanse of his back, cataloging every shiver and moan, every white-hot moment, that I pull from him.
Our lovemaking finally stops as the sun is rising. The bed is destroyed, the sheets torn from the corners, the pillows on the floor. We lie in the center of the mattress, his head on my shoulder, my arms around him, and we drift asleep to the sound of birdsong.
He must have told everyone to leave him undisturbed for the weekend, because no one interrupts us in the morning. When we finally wake, past noon, he tells me to stay in bed and relax while he makes brunch. I packed nothing, came here with nothing, so I swipe a pair of his boxers and follow him after a few minutes. After six weeks apart, I don’t want him out of my sight.
He nearly abandons the French toast in the pan. We bank the fires between us long enough to eat, but as soon as we’re done, he lays me on the table and asks for dessert.
When the sun sets, we venture outside. Starlight illuminates our world, and we talk softly while we watch the moon rise.
