He groans. “You feel so damn good.”
“So do you.”
Then he really starts to move, working himself in and out of me. Pulling that thick length way back until the head of his cock teases the sensitive tissue near my entrance, before gliding back in. He’s right, I’m ridiculously wet. And getting wetter all the time. It’s the feel of him, the scent of him, and the sound of him whispering dirty things in my ear. Like how he’s been needing to fuck me since the first time he saw me. Like how I’m going to be on my back in his bed every day from now on. I heartily approve of both of these things.
With every motion, his chest brushes against my breasts, making my nipples ache. He grinds the base of his cock against my clit and I gasp. No doubt, he knows how to do this. Not that I ever really doubted. He goes harder and faster and everything just gets better. Especially when he reaches down between us, rubbing all around my swollen clit. My fingernails dig into his back. I just need something to hold on to, something to keep me grounded. Because my blood is running hot, everything low in my body tense and tight. I’m right on the edge.
“Fuck. Beck.”
“C’mon,” he coaxes.
It’s like lightning, the sensation he sends crashing through me. Electric and blinding, shocking and real. You could even say it was heaven sent, delivered via Beck. It just feels that good. My mind is blown, my body shaking. He labors on top of me, slamming his cock in once, twice more before coming hard. Then we’re two sweaty skins plastered together thanks to body fluids. The weight of him heavy and wanted.
I wrap my arms around him since no other limbs are currently working. Just lie there and wait for my pussy to stop quaking. For some kind of cognizant thought process to kick in. Anytime now. No rush.
Which is when Beck draws his still semi-hard cock out of me and collapses at my side. It’s quite dramatic. Nice to know I’m not the only one affected.
“Are you still alive?” I ask.
“No.”
“That’s sad.”
“You killed me.”
I roll onto my side and rise up on one elbow. “Oh. Sorry.”
His glistening cock lies against his hip. It’s quite the impressive appendage. “Stop staring at my dick, you siren. It’s needs a minute, then we’ll go again.”
“Okay.”
He winces, lifting one shoulder. “I think you Wolverine’d my back.”
“A couple of scratches won’t kill you. Stop being such a baby.”
“Come here,” he says somewhat grumpily. “I want to cuddle.”
“All right.” I smile, fitting myself against him, laying my head on his chest. His arm comes around me and everything is perfect. It’s considered the height of romance and best etiquette to yawn so hard your jaw cracks after great sex. Just ask me. “Sorry. It was a big day.”
“Close your eyes, beloved. You’ll need your stamina for later.”
He’s a smart man. So I do what the smart sexy man says. And my sleep is both deep and peaceful.
I wake up aching. Skilled fingers pinching my nipples, teeth embedded in my shoulder. The boy is an animal in bed. He draws an invisible line down my body, from my breasts to my pussy. Teasing and thrilling me along the way. My skin is all goose pimples. The heat of his hard body at my back is such a turn-on. No doubt about it, we should spend as much time skin to skin as possible. It’s going to take a while for me to get my fix.
“Beck.”
“Hmm?”
“What are you up to?”
He draws my leg back over his, making room for him to slip his cock into me. Sex on your side first thing in the morning is a hell of a hello. He angles his hips, pushing in deeper. Deeper than I thought he could go. His hand is back at my breast, thumb rubbing back and forth over my hard nipple.
“Just making up for lost time,” he says, voice rough and low.
“That’s what you said at three.” I happy sigh as he draws back, before pushing back in again. Adding a little roll of his hips for good luck and good times. “And then again at six.”
“It’s just after nine now, beloved. Time for your breakfast fuck.”
“We should have pancakes.” I gasp as he hits a particularly wonderful spot deep inside of me.
“Excellent idea.”
Then there’s no more talking, because the man is fucking me into oblivion.
I add some more bacon and another pancake to my plate before heading back to the dining table. The same table where Beck is lounging back in his seat watching me with a coffee in hand. A leisurely breakfast after a big night is a beautiful thing.
“What?” I ask with a smile.
“You’re walking funny.”
“I am not. Shut up,” I hiss. “And if I am, whose damn fault might that be?”
“I recommend icing followed by a relaxing tongue massage.”
“Keep your body parts to yourself for a while, Beck. I need a break.” I wave my fork at him in a vaguely threatening manner. Then I check that Mrs. Francis hasn’t wandered back into the room. Because it’s all fun and games until the housekeeper hears you talking about sex.
Beck smirks. Bastard.
“And get that look off your face.”
“What look?”
“That self-satisfied smirk you’re wearing.”
Princess dashes out from underneath a couch to hide beneath my chair. I tear her off a small piece of bacon and drop it on the ground. She picks up the food and is gone again.
“That’s spoiling her,” says Beck, taking a sip of coffee. “You’re teaching our firstborn bad habits.”
“No, I’m buying her love. It’s a different thing entirely.”
“Babies, both fur and skin, need these things to be stated in plain language.” Beck turns in his chair. “Princess, we love you.”
From underneath the couch, the cat hisses.
“Do you think she should have her own Instagram account?” asks Beck.
“No.”
“Okay. Want to go back to bed after breakfast?” he asks, all innocent like.
“No. Again.” I laugh. “I’m serious. I need a break.”
“I meant to nap and watch movies.”
“You did not. Besides which, we have a media room we haven’t even used yet for that.” I load up my fork with the perfect ratio of maple syrup-soaked pancake to bacon. “Keep it in your pants until I say otherwise, thank you.”
“It’s like you don’t care about my large penis at all,” he says with a sniff.
“I’m not dignifying that with a response.”
“But you don’t deny it!”
“The lack of care or the size?”
“Both,” he says, faking so much indignation. The clown.
It’s hard to keep the smile off my face. “Of course I care and as for the second I can only assume you’re fishing for compliments.”
His tongue plays behind his cheek. Guess he’s having a hard time keeping a straight face too.
“But yes, it’s very large,” I admit.
He punches the sky in victory. “Thank you, dearest. And just so you know, your cunt is world-class.”