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He chuckles again, wearing this sexy smirk, showcasing that chipped tooth again that makes me buckle.
“Just as long as you kiss me while you do it,” he whispers, his smile fading into something serious.
We stare at each other for a second that feels more significant than all the others. My heart is pounding. Thunderous beats flood my ears. I nod, finding myself succumbing and agreeing to his terms again.Lake wants to kiss me while he enters me?My stomach twists at the thought.
“Please, D,” he begs with such need, tipping his chin up, his lips parted and waiting.
I'm weak around him, even if I try to reclaim my strength. I can't. I'm wilted. Melted liquid in his presence. I fall into him, becoming the cool, dark water that he is. Taking my last breath, I let go of whatever land I held onto before going under.
I lean over him, attempting to restrain him, but he pushes his arms out of my weak little hold, palming my face between his hands as he pulls my lips to his. He devours me, his tongue slipping between my lips, kissing me with an uncontrolled nature. His taste is his own mix of sugar cookie. Sweet and heartwarming. Like a home away from home.
His hands slip under my arms, running down my ribs until they meet my hips. He grips my ass, slowly sliding my wetness all over him. He's still kissing me while he pushes me back onto the head of his swollen, aching cock, and he slips inside me.
It's overwhelming, this connection. All of it. The sensations. The sounds. The sights. The emotions. Everything.
I don't know who I am anymore.
He slowly stretches me as I inch my way back onto him, his mouth never leaving mine. We swallow each other's moans and groans, slowly adjusting to the feeling of each other until we set our pace.
Intoxication doesn't even cut it. I'm completely lost in him, and nothing is tethering me to land anymore. I'm sucked out to sea with every thrust of his hips. Pulled beneath the surface with every groan that escapes his throat. Held under without oxygen by eye contact that never ceases.
I sit back onto him as he forcefully thrusts up, and the faces he makes while his hands palm my breasts have me breathless, crying out in pleasure. So focused. So intense. Our bodies slap together as we connect, and our pleasured sounds echo throughout the enormous master suite.
With my hands on his chest, I rake my nails down his taut abdomen as I ride him. Leaning back, I find the angle that makes us both gasp. My breasts bounce in the air, and insecurities are a distant memory. I'm lost in the pleasure of him hitting some magical spot that makes me feel like I either need to pee or explode internally with a dynamite that could destroy shopping centers.
He stiffens beneath me, squinting as his hands grip my ass tightly.
“Shit, Dylan.” He groans, tossing his head back against the bed as he mutters phrases. “You're too much for me. It's been so long. It's so good.”
He grips my arms, pulling me chest to chest with him again, and holds me tight to him, kissing me as he continues to pummel into me. It burns, the pain of his size slamming into me. But it’s the best kind of pain.
“So.”
Kiss.
“Fucking.”
Kiss with tongue.
“Good,” he says in a raspy tone.
“Lake, oh God,” I cry out. “I’m coming.”
Wrapping an arm around my lower back, the other snakes its way up the back of my neck, ensuring my lips stay on his as I clamp down around him. I lose myself, whimpering my cries into his lips as I experience one of the most amazing, most mind-numbing orgasms I've ever had.
Fireworks explode behind my eyes, and I'm crippled with a spine-tingling pleasure that has my toes curling into themselves.
His eyes are focused on me when I finally find the strength to open mine again, a concentration set on me I've never felt before. He's panting, a deep guttural grunt leaving his lips as his head drops back against the bed, followed by the sexiest sounding groans with every thrust he gives me until I know he's emptied himself into the condom, finishing right after me.
As if the separation from my mouth is too much for him, he pulls me back to his lips so he can seemingly breathe again. He kisses me so passionately, so possessively in the aftermath, as if he's staking a claim to something he can't have while still inside me. I've never felt so wanted, so valued, so needed by someone before, especially not during sex. There's an unspeakable connection to whatever just happened here that terrifies me.
Our foreheads rest together as we both try to control our breathing. The slightest pull of a grin forms, but words are like putty, unable to be formed.
This was supposed to be a fuck. Both of us getting out whatever sexual tension we had built up and tossing it into the fire. But what's happening between us is only stoking the fire, adding more to the coals that burn beneath. Igniting something and strengthening it like gas to the flames we deny. Flames that need to be snuffed out immediately before the irreversible damage is done.
Lake Decker made love to me.
He doesn't need to fuck me. I've successfully found a way to fuck myself.
