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“Hey.” He tips my head up, his index finger on my chin.
I fight the emotions back and raise my eyes to his. “Yeah?”
His finger rises to my lip, traces it, then goes out, toward my cheek, my temple, and then digs into my hair, pulling me closer to him, my body and his merging. “What’s on your mind?”
He had to ask that, didn’t he? As though I can cover everything in one sentence.
I strive for levity. “Other than your johnson?”
He responds with a smile, then captures my hands and raises them above my head. His face is even with mine, his eyes, onyx and piercing.
“More than my cock.” He says, then moves his hips against me, that very same hardness pressing against my mound, reminding me of so much that’s primal with us.
That answer works for me. “More than your cock.” I press a kiss to his neck, the tendons extended, the muscles flexed. “You don’t work on a shrimp boat anymore?”
“Nah. New gig.”
“You enjoy bartending?” I pull one hand loose from above my head and run my fingers over his chest, marveling at the muscles he still has. Wondering how long he’s been bartending. Wondering what his plans are. Actually, I’m wondering so many things that it would take many, many mornings to get them sorted.
“It has its perks.” He pulls me on top of him. I sit up. Nude, looking down at his body. His shaft is firmly planted beneath me, tucked against my folds, his heat merging with mine, creating a buzz that starts at my clit and grows in intensity while it courses through my body.
“What perks would that be? The pretty girls?” I arch my back, thrusting my breasts forward as if in an offering. Cupping my breasts, I run my fingertips over my nipples, pulling them outward, caressing, tweaking, rolling.
“Damn it.” He licks his lips, raises a hand, puts it over mine, both our fingers pushing, competing for the same nipple.
His other hand slides over my hip, lower, and poises just on top of my clit, resting on its hood. His thumb separates the flesh, touches that sensitive nub which is now without a barrier. I jerk in response, my body leaping off of his a fraction of an inch.
“I think your body likes that,” he teases, his thumb moving in lazy circles that are picking up in speed and intensity.
I begin to grind on his shaft between my legs, letting its length part my folds further, my nether lips surrounding it.
I lean forward, kissing his lips, giving him my tongue, and at the same time, so much more. His thick mushroom head is right at my entrance.
Josh pulls me closer, then pushes me back a sliver, his mushroom head pushing into me, just barely, widening my channel, making me want so much more. I lean back, wanting to take more of him in. Needing all of him.
I pause, waiting.
Not wanting to voice that one word.
Condom.
“I’m out.” He says it like he knows what I’m thinking. I suppose he does.
“Shit,” I hiss. “Shit, shit.”
He sits up, pushes me backward, laying me down between his legs. Then he’s up, and his head’s between my legs, his tongue sliding from one end to the other, from slit to the rosebud of my ass, licking, sucking, pulling my lips away, then allowing them to go back with a pop. I close my eyes and yield to the sensation, my chest filling with air that I keep forgetting to let out and replace.
A climax builds in me slowly, traveling through my body, a nebulous impression that culminates right behind my clit. “Josh. Help. God. Help me. I’m—” The sensation nullifies my thoughts, leaves me only able to concentrate on one thing. And that one thing is something that I’m fighting against. And I don’t even know why I’m fighting it. “No. No. No.”
Josh pulls his face up, slides a finger in me, pressing upward, then another finger. They’re going in and out at a rapid pace. “Let it go. Give it to me. Let your sweet body deliver.”
With a gush and a yell, my body arches, and sets loose a wave of orgasms that flow from me in a swell.
Josh laughs and says, “That’s my girl. Look.”
I open my eyes and rise enough to look at him. The lower half of his face is drenched with fluids that are creamy and clear. I’m confused. I don’t know what just happened. It’s never happened that way before. My legs spasm, then collapse, then one leg has another spasm. I’m breathing hard, and something that resembles an exhilarated giggle escapes from my throat.
Josh comes closer, covers my lips with his, kissing me, taking my tongue hostage.
