Lifting my lips from hers, I mutter, “Hang on, baby.”
“Huh?” she asks, but gets no more time to question me, before I pull out and plunge back into her.
God fucking yes… this is what life must be about.
She feels so fucking good, and I can’t even attempt to fuck her with slow seduction. Instead, I pull out once more, almost to the tip, then dive right back inside her tight wet heat. My head drops, my forehead resting against hers, and I start pumping between her legs.
In response, Clarke spreads herself wider, pressing her knees to my ribs and sinking her nails into my ass. The tiny bites of pain from those sharp little claws cause me to fuck her just a bit harder, but her grunts of approval assure me that’s what she was aiming for all along.
As boldly exciting as it was to finger fuck her to orgasm in her living room, and as sweet as it was to make her come apart with my tongue, there is nothing that could get me to hold back from the deep fucking I’m giving her now.
I absolutely can’t control myself, and my body just takes over.
“You. Okay?” I manage to grind out, my jaw clenched tight as I pound harder between her creamy thighs.
“God, yes,” she pants, her palms now flat against my ass as she urges me to go even deeper.
I lift my head, gazing down at Clarke in amazement. Who would have thought she’d like it a bit rough in the end?
It suits me just fine because I like it any way she’ll give it. Later tonight, after I get my wits back, I’m going to fuck her slowly for hours.
“Aaron?” Her plaintive tone has me looking down in concern. “I’m… I’m… I think I’m going to come—”
And with that, she bucks hard and bows her back once more, which I’ve come to realize is her signature tell that she’s coming hard. She’s strong enough to lift my hips up right along with hers. The unexpected move throws me off, but only for a second. I slam back into her, pushing her deeper into the mattress. As I register the rippling contractions of her muscles all around me and realize with no small amount of pride that she had three supreme orgasms tonight, my body decides it’s time to fall over the edge with her. My balls pulse, then contract as I slam deep into her one last time.
Pressing my face into her neck, I mutter, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, that feels good.”
♦
Very long moments later, when our breaths have returned to normal and I have Clarke tucked into my side, she makes a small sound in the back of her throat as if she has something to say.
The fingers on one hand, which were stroking her shoulder, still to wait her out. When she doesn’t say anything, I ask, “Are you okay?”
Clarke giggles, and it doesn’t sound like her at all. I take it to be nerves rather than an airhead-type thing.
In an attempt to put her at ease, because let’s face it—what we just shared was fucking intense—I say, “I think I’ve finally gotten my heart rate to a point I’m confident I’m not going to keel over and die.”
Silence continues to reign, but then she finally murmurs, “It was really, really good.”
Chuckling, I pull her in tighter.
She coughs slightly, turns more to her side, then lifts her head to look directly at me. “I’m going to ask a really stupid question, and I want you to just chalk it up to the fact I’m not quite as experienced as I thought I was since… well… you know the incident.”
“No such thing as a stupid question,” I assure her.
“And I don’t want you to think I’m making a big deal about anything, because I’m not… I swear.”
Patiently, I wait for her to get the guts to tell me what’s on her mind.
She lets out a shaky breath. Her cheeks bloom with color, indicating she’s incredibly embarrassed. “Do you… um… do you make all women… um… oh, God.”
She ends up burying her face in my chest, too cute by anyone’s standard in her embarrassment. So I help her out. “Do all the women I’m with end up coming three times?”
“Not just three times,” she mutters against my breastbone. “Three stupendous, extremely forceful times.”
Got to admit, my ego blooms and expands, swelling under her praise. But still, I have to admit to choosing my words very carefully. “Let’s just say I don’t normally spend that amount of time on a woman.”
“Oh,” she murmurs, lifting her head to finally scan my face. I won’t tell her the exact truth, which is I’ve never spent that much dedicated time on a woman before. Sure, I want to make sure any woman I’m with gets off and has a great time, but tonight… I was driven to make Clarke shoot over the moon.
“But…” I continue as I press a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I enjoyed that so much, and I’m looking forward to seeing if I can outdo myself next time.”
Clarke’s grin seems to harness the entire power of the sun within it. Without hesitation, she smacks a kiss on my mouth.
“Hey, I got an idea,” I say, struck with sudden inspiration that’s probably foolish, but there’s no taking it back now. “Why don’t you come with me to Brooke and Bishop’s wedding Monday?”
This wedding isn’t news to her. We’ve discussed it, and she knows I’m going to St. John where Brooke and Bishop have rented out an entire resort. I’ve already informed her I’ll be gone for five days. At one point, she’d even told me she was jealous. It’s how I found out she doesn’t get to travel much. In fact, she hasn’t taken a vacation in a couple of years.
“Oh, that sounds so awesome, but there’s no way—” she starts, without even giving it serious thought.
It’s why I cut her off with a kiss, rolling her to her back. When her legs spread, I settle in between them, peering down with a stern look. “You could use some time away, Clarke. You’re the hardest working person I know. You only take off one day a week. And let’s be honest, you don’t even really take that day off since you admitted you work from home on your books on those days.”
“It’s hard running a business alone. There’s no way I can be away from the store for that long. Nina can only give me part-time hours—”
“Veronica would gladly step in, and you know it,” I admonish.
Clarke doesn’t snap a comeback because she knows I’m right. Veronica would gladly mind the store, and she’s capable of watching it well.
“Clarke,” I murmur, tilting my head and giving her a small smile. “You said you wish you could be more spontaneous, and what could be more spontaneous than agreeing to jet off to a tropical island with me for a week? We’ll relax on the sand, make love for hours on end, eat all the best foods, and, hey… drink all the fruity cocktails, too.”
“It sounds divine,” she breathes out dreamily.
“You deserve a vacation,” I continue. “I’ve already got a room there all to myself, so it won’t cost you anything. I’ll cover your plane ticket—”
“I’ll buy my own plane ticket,” she pipes up primly. It’s then I realize…she just committed.
“Yes,” I exclaim in triumph.