I run my hands up her back, unsnapping her bra and peeling it off.
“Tell me,” I say, in a raw husk of a voice, “you at least thought about me fucking you.”
“I didn’t,” she says. “I wanted to.”
“Bad girl.” I slap her ass, good. She squeals, cutely. I rub the spot with tenderness. “You’re a hard worker, Alexi. But you can’t always work that hard. You’ll burn out.”
“I know but—”
“Do you remember what I told you, about inspiration?”
“That it’s everywhere?” she says. “I just have to look.”
“That’s right. Your inspiration, your muse…you won’t find it on your laptop screen. It’s right here. It’s always here.”
“Okay.” She listens, playing with the hairs on the back of my neck.
“Now watch. I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby, you’ll either fall right to sleep afterward, or you’ll rush over to that infernal fucking laptop of yours and finish your book.”
That puts a smile on her face. “You do know your audience, don’t you?”
“I know you.” I rake my fingers into her scalp and pull her lips down onto mine. She moans. Her hips rocking needfully against my pulsating sex. The sticky-sweet scent of her arousal greets my nose like an invitation.
I break the kiss with a tortured groan. Her mouth opens in surprise, mid-kiss, her eyes readjusting, finding mine with a heated, lusty stare.
“Life is short,” I give her a smirk. “Have dessert first.”
I drop to my knees, elbowing her knees apart. She giggles breathlessly, stunned, or nervous, or both. I pull her ass to the edge of the couch. I pause, feasting with my eyes first. The way her chest rises and falls with her heavy breaths. The shape of her is like no other woman I’ve ever seen in real life or digital. Full, and soft, and divine.
Panting, she puts her hands over her belly, self-consciously. Blocking my view. I move them over.
“You’re a writer.” I get between her legs. I reach up to pet her cheek. “What’s another word for beautiful?”
“Um, lovely?” she says. “I use gorgeous a lot. Attractive. Good-looking—”
“Heavenly,” I say, drinking her in. “My love. You are heavenly to me.” She sighs, and my insatiable gaze slides down again, getting an eyeful of her naked breasts with pretty pink tips begging to be suckled and licked and kissed.
Lower.
Lower.
Her panties are soaked. I tease the sides, then hook my finger into them and shove them aside. I groan at the savory sight. I press my tongue to her swollen clit. Alexi takes a sharp breath, freeing it in a long, slow simper of delight, as I feast on her. Her body coils up tight, then disentangles, as I lap up every drop of her hot, wet sweetness.
I peel off her sodden thong. “You’re ready for my cock, love.” I stand up and shuck my boxers. My erection bounces free, reaching straight for my perfect girl.
“Yes, please,” Alexi whimpers. Looking up at my hard length with saucered eyes.
“It’ll fit, kitten. I promise.” I reach down, scoop her up, and carry her into bed. I lay her down next to me, holding her close. We kiss. Her body radiates passion, desire, need. The exact electrical charge that courses through mine.
I roll Alexi onto her back, spreading her legs. I stroke my shaft, admiring the view. I press the tip against her slit. She rolls her hips up to me, urgently.
When I enter her, there’s more than physical contact. There’s an out of this world connection. Something nameless, and perfect. As if our very souls were two parts of a whole drifting haplessly about the ether. And then they found each other, and they smiled. Because they knew.
That one…is the one.
My pace is tentative at first. Alexi’s so tight, so wet. As she opens for me I sink into her deeper, and deeper, filling her channel all the way. She cinches her thighs against my waist, her ankles locked behind my back, her body writhing to meet my thrusts.
“Atta girl.” I pound into her harder. She quivers beneath me, panting and purring and clawing into my shoulders as we climb faster, faster. I know she’s close. Her eyes are pleading. Her breathy voice moaning my name over and over.
“Oh my god, yes, just like that,” Alexi extols. “Don’t stop, James. Please don’t stop. I’m so close—”
“I got you, baby. Come for me,” I coax her, lovingly. “Come right on my cock.”
Her body becomes a coil seizing my own. I watch the pleasure drench her eyes, those hazel spheres arresting mine as her waves crest, overtaking her, and I follow suit. I growl out a cuss word as I grab her hips and thrust into her once more, protracting her climax as my cum spills out inside of her.
The pounding heat against my veins endures for a long, long time, until I finally begin to recover. I look at my girl. Her face as satisfied and exhausted as I feel now.
“That…was something,” I exhale.
“Spectacular,” she says.
I collapse onto the bed, face to face with my gorgeous girl, our limbs still entangled together. I snuggle her to me, skin to skin, hearts pumping against each other’s. Our sweat-slick bodies humming with contentment.
“What did you write about today, kitten?” I ask, after a while.
“You.”
“Uh-oh.” I snigger.
“What uh-oh?” she says.
“You were writing about me…while you were upset with me?”
“I was. Or I thought I was,” she says, her voice soft, and light, and vulnerable. “I think I was more upset with me.”
“How so?”
“I got…attached.”
“That’s a bad thing?” I ask.
“It would be, if you didn’t feel the same way.”
“Would it help if I said I’m attached to you back?”
“Yeah, it would,” Alexi giggles.
“I am, and you know it.” We fall into quiet. We breathe as one. I press a kiss to her forehead. “Tell me more about your story.”
“It isn’t finished yet,” she says.
“Do you know how it ends?”
“That’s the thing…I don’t think it does end. Not this one,” Alexi says. She smiles brightly up at me. “Not this time.”
My heart inflates as I hear the words and know their meaning. “I love you,” I say again, whispering. I rub my fingers affectionately up and down her ass and back.
“I love you too,” she echoes me with so much ease. Sending my world into its orbit. “I love you, James.”
Nice.
Epilogue
Alexi
Getting cheated on by that McDouchbag Mark was honestly the best thing that ever happened to me.
Five years, three wiggly babies, and two bestselling romance novels later, and this smart, sexy, somewhat-feral mountain man is still the man of my dreams.
And now he’s the man of my books.
He’s my inspiration.
I went searching for peace and quiet, thinking that was what I needed to write all the words.
I was so wrong.
I got hardly any peace, and no quiet.
But I found something better—my muse. My man.