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Forcing myself to get it together, I make my way to the bathroom, take care of business, and brush my teeth. I debate on getting dressed but decide against it. I need to make the most of my time with him today, because moving forward, there will be less and less until we are no more. It hurts to even think that way. So much so that it stalls the breath in my lungs.
“Today,” I whisper as I pad on bare feet toward the kitchen.
I find him standing with his back to me, scrambling eggs in a bowl. I don’t stop until I’m behind him, pressing a kiss to his bare back. He glances over his shoulder at me and smiles. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I missed you.” The words flow easily from my mouth, spoken from my heart. Something I know I might regret in the coming days when the pain is too much to bear. I let my hands roam over his muscular arms, his shoulders, and around his waist, holding him to me.
Brooks stops what he’s doing and turns toward me. He pushes my hair back over my shoulder before reaching for the hem of his shirt and lifting it. Without being told, I lift my arms high in the air, allowing him to remove the T-shirt. I don’t pay attention to where it lands. I can’t. Not when his hands grip my ass through my lace panties, and he pulls me into him. His cock is already hard and pressing against my belly. He doesn’t seem to mind as he kisses me, letting his hands roam everywhere they can reach.
He kisses my neck while testing the weight of my bare breasts in the palms of his hands. I moan when he gently traces my nipples with his thumbs. His mouth is back on mine, hot and wet, demanding entrance that I willingly give him. My hands roam over his chest, across his washboard abs, and over his boxer briefs. I palm his cock through the thin fabric and feel it twitch beneath my palm.
Our kisses are urgent.
Our hands are frenzied as we grapple for one another.
It’s not enough. I need more. Decision made, I drop to my knees, staring up at him under my lashes.
“Palmer?”
I don’t speak. Instead, I let my actions do the talking and slide my fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs and pull them over his thighs. He kicks them off and braces his hands behind him on the counter. I waste no time tasting just the tip.
“Fuck. Palmer, babe, what are you doing?”
My hands grip his thighs as I take more of him into my mouth. That’s my reply. I take my time, taking more of him with each pass until my head is bobbing up and down his cock, and his thighs are trembling beneath my grip. Moving my hands, I grip him tightly, stroking him with each pass, enjoying the taste of him on my tongue.
“Fuck,” he moans as he buries his hands in my hair. His grip is firm, but it doesn’t hurt. He slowly starts to pump into my mouth, and a gush of desire rushes between my thighs. “Damn, that’s fucking hot,” he grits out, still guiding my mouth onto his cock. “Enough,” he says, his voice gravelly. “On your feet, beautiful.”
I glance up and see the desire all over his face. Doing as he asks, I stand and face him. He quickly steps around me and pushes me closer to the counter. I glance over to see what he does next, and he drops to his knees behind me. I feel a kiss pressed to one ass cheek and then the other before he lightly smacks.
“These need to go,” he says, pulling at my panties. I assume he’s going to help me out of them, but then I hear the material tear and know that’s not the case. More heat rushes to my pussy. That was so damn hot; I’ll be reliving that experience in my mind for the rest of the days I have on this earth.
He stands, trailing kisses up my back before he kisses just under my ear then he whispers, “Brace yourself on the counter.” I do as he says, anticipation getting the best of me. I don’t have to wait long before he pushes my back down, my tits now flat against the cold counter. I miss the heat of his body pressed to mine instantly when he drops back to his knees. He grips my ass with each hand, and then I feel his mouth on me. He’s slow at first, nipping and licking, then without warning, he sucks my clit into his mouth, and I can’t help the moan that fills the kitchen. It’s worthy of an Oscar, but so is his performance.
Reaching behind me, I grip his hair and hold him to me. He moans, and that sound sends red-hot pleasure coursing through my veins. “Brooks,” I moan as he removes his mouth and replaces it with his fingers. He stands to his feet and aligns his body with me. We’re both leaning over the counter while he fucks me with his fingers.
My orgasm hits me like a fast-moving train as I grip the counter and call out his name. “Good girl,” he says, his lips kissing my neck. “Fuck. I need a condom. Baby, don’t move,” he says, starting to pull away.
“No. Don’t go. I’m on the pill.”
“You sure?”
“Please, Brooks.” Even I can hear the desperation in my tone.
Wrapping his fist around my hair, he aligns himself at my entrance and slowly pushes inside. “Ho-ly fuck,” he pants. He pulls out and slowly pushes back in. Each stroke grows faster until he’s full-on fucking me, my hair still gripped in his fist. He slaps at my ass with his free hand, and my pussy convulses, close to coming for the second time in a matter of minutes.
“Give it to me, Palmer. I want to feel you come on my cock.” His dirty words are like a magic orgasm button because, not seconds later, my orgasm rips through me like a hurricane. “That’s it. Milk my cock,” he praises.
When he pulls out, I whine like the hussy that I am for him. He turns me around, taking a few steps back and lifting me onto the island. He slides back inside me easily while his mouth latches onto my breast. He kisses one, then the other, sucking my hard, aching nipples into his mouth. I grip his shoulders, and my legs are locked tightly around his waist, just holding on for the ride.
He slides his hand behind my neck and pulls my mouth to his. Our bodies are slick with sweat, and our breathing is labored as the stroke of his tongue matches the rhythm of his hips. When he pulls away, he keeps his grip on the back of my neck and stares deep into my eyes. I whimper from the look and the way my heart is shattering.
“I’m gonna come,” he grits out and tries to step back, but I keep my legs locked around him. “Palmer,” he groans. “Babe, I’m close.”
I want to tell him to come inside me, but I know that’s risky, and after my realization before coming out here and starting all of this, if we were to have an unexcepted surprise, that wouldn’t be fair to either of us. With that knowledge, I unlock my legs, placing my feet flat on the counter, opening myself to him.
“Fuck me. You’re trying to kill me.” He thrusts hard. Once, twice, three times, before he’s pulling out and finishing himself off all over the kitchen floor.
His body shudders, and then he’s once again giving me his full attention. “You, Palmer Setty, are unexpected.” He leans in and kisses me so tenderly that it brings tears to my eyes.
