80. Dusty
It’s hard to process. Hard to adjust. I was a man standing at the gallows and she just cut me loose. But she’s mistaken my shock for reluctance.
I kiss her because I’m not good with words. And I want to tell her that she’s already a part of me. No matter where she goes, whether I’m there or not, she’s got a piece of me.
I press my lips into hers and a muted whimper sounds in her throat. A protective feeling surges through me. It’s hard to believe that she wasn’t sure if I’d want her, when she is better than the air I breathe. I brace my hands on her hips and drag her onto my lap.
She breaks the kiss, pulling back to look up at my face. “Is that a yes?”
My hands cup her ass and a low chuckle rumbles in my chest. “Yes, sweet girl. Fuck yes. From here to the end of time, yes.”
Her eyes close in relief and she leans forward, her lips brushing my ear. “Show me.”
I groan. “I should take a shower first.”
“We can do that together after you fuck me. I like the taste of the salt on your skin.”
She punctuates that statement by flicking her tongue along my neck.
“Okay, baby girl. Whatever you want.”
Pinning her hips to mine, I push up onto my feet and carry her to the bedroom.
She looks up with heat in her eyes as I lay her down on the bed. Wrapping my hands around her soft thighs, I drag her ass to the edge of the bed. “Take off your shirt.”
She immediately complies, pulling it over her head and throwing it at my face. Her scent fills my nose. Sweet. Clean. I toss the shirt aside and suck in a breath. No bra. My gaze wanders across her gorgeous body. My hand slides along her tummy, covering her breast. I squeeze it, pinching her nipples, before sliding my hand between her breasts. I can feel her heart racing. Its rhythm must match mine. My hand slides back down and my fingers hook over the waist of her shorts. I reveal that inked daisy, the clue the universe was trying to give us.
We belong together. It’s stamped on our bodies.
Bending my head, I press my lips to her tattoo. Sealing it with a kiss.
Pushing back, I drag her shorts and her panties off and kneel on the floor, spreading her thighs wide.
She props herself up on her elbows to watch. “Take off your shirt.”
It comes off in one swift movement and then I’m wrapping my arms around her thighs, dragging her perilously close to the edge of the bed.
I kiss her, feathering touches on her inner thigh, charting a course for the apex between her legs. Her hips rock at the light touch and her breath grows ragged. I’m worshipping at her feet. On my knees. Chest full of love and joy and other things that are too big to name.
My curled tongue thrusts inside, moving to suck on her clit the way she likes. I’m not going to tease her. I’m going to make her come again and again. That daisy rises and sways in front of my eyes, like a bloom dancing in the wind. Only when it's trembling, shaking, do I climb to my feet.
My fingers trail across her hips. “Whose pussy is this?”
She’s completely relaxed on the bed. A smile tugs at her lips. “Yours, baby.”
That’s right. Mine.
I shove my shorts off, fist my cock, and nudge it between her folds. She’s wet. Soaking. And my cock glides into her tight center.
She sighs, arching her back. I draw back, slowly, and thrust in again, watching the way her body dances for me.
My heart sings. I was a man who was drowning and now I can finally breathe.
Her gaze finds mine, those pretty honey-colored eyes lock onto mine. I wonder if she can see right into my soul. Would she be frightened by the devotion that burns there?
Those expressive eyebrows dip mischievously. Her fingers brush my shaft as it stretches her pussy. “Who’s cock is this?”
“Yours.”
I thrust in deep, lowering my body so that I can hold her in my arms. “I’m all yours, baby girl. My heart. My body. My spirit. It’s all yours. From here to the end of time.”