Page 78 of Love Always

At any point he could stand up, pull his arms out, and all that would be lost are a couple of buttons. But he doesn’t even try anymore. He wants this. He needs this.

His breath is ragged, his mouth is open, and his lips are flushed. His eyes glitter like obsidian. His nipples are tight, hard pinpricks of darkness on that chest. I lean over and take one between my teeth and give it a little nip. He spasms as a hiss of air escapes between his teeth and he swallows. Then I stand, grab the waistband of his pants and pull down, silks and all.

His cock is huge, veined, beating in time with his heart. I reach around in back of myself and unhook my bra, sliding it off each shoulder. It drops to the floor.

“Look at you,” he says.

Without a word I drop a knee, pushing his legs further apart. Kneeling, I reach up and stroke a finger along his taint, watching his sac come up inside of him tight, hard, and I scrape fingernails against it. I push his legs open wider, grab his hips and pull him down lower. His cock is hard and the tip smooth against my lips. I open my mouth and take him in.

He gasps, and his precum tastes salty. His arms strain, working against the shirt, his muscles bunching, shaking. He arches, ribs spreading wide, heart beating wildly, his stomach flat, hard. Pectorals flinch every time I come down on him, my lips firm around his cock. I know exactly what I’m doing.

I’m able to bring him to the edge four times. He is so beautiful each time I leave him at that precipice in a delirium. His torso is coated in a sheen of sweat, and the pulse in his neck beats hard. When I stop to watch him, I’m able to rise and place a hand on that chest—his heart hammers in hard, fast thuds, that reverberate in my own heart.

When Mateus gasps, it’s like he’s coming up for air, rising, leading with his chest. Finally, he rolls to his side, flings the shirt off, buttons drop, and grabs me.

“Laurel, I want you. Now, forever. I’m sorry.”

I’m panting too. Wiping my mouth, I start to slide down again, but he stops me, taking my hands and pulling them behind his neck.

“Let’s move this,” he said and then he stands.

“I don’t have a condom,” I whisper.

“I do,” he says, his cock is still huge, beating in time with his heart, the one I set racing.

Me.

We move into the bathroom and he runs the water. Sitting on the toilet, he slides off his prosthetic. Next come his pants. His cock is still high and hard. He hands me a condom and gestures at his groin.

“This is all you.”

I run my hands under the tub faucet and then reach for his cock with hot hands. His body shakes the moment I touch it and his prick swells even higher. With one hand on the wall, he braces himself while I unfurl it. I give his balls a scrape with my fingernails when I’m done.

Mateus leans over to the bathtub, sits on the edge and using both arms, lowers himself in. It’s oversized both in length and depth. He turns off the water and when he’s settled, he reaches for me. I wriggle out of my panties and step into the tub. Steam wafts off the surface and my skin prickles. Facing him, I lower myself onto him. I’m so wet, so ready to take him, I slide all the way to his base.

He arches back, holding onto the sides of the tub in a death grip. My name comes in jagged tears of breath and I can’t tell what is sweat and what is water on his skin. His dark lashes fly open the next time I sink down. Water splashes between us as he pulls me down on top of him. His hands move to my hips and guides me, guides us and we plunge over that edge.

΅

The water is getting cold. I’m nearly asleep on his chest, listening to his heart beat at a more normal rhythm. He’s tracing wet fingertips over my back in random doodles. Shivering suddenly, I gently raise my hips, clutch him with my sex in a little good-bye and gingerly slide off. As he slips from me, Mateus never breaks eye contact and the moment we are separate, he shudders, nipples tight. A wet hand reaches up to cup my face and we kiss.

The tub drains as he runs a hot shower. I can tell he’s worried he might tip into me. The washcloth is just out of reach, so I brace my legs and let him lean on me to grab it. It’s a small thing, but it’s important. When he straightens up he suddenly grabs me hard, hot water streaming down both of us. He doesn’t let go.

Chapter Sixteen

Mateus

I know she has to go home. She’s a mom, and Cory is going to need her. But watching Laurel sleeping in my arms is all I want to do. Her head is on my chest, and her breathing is even, languid. I’m torn. I should wake her—it’s the right thing to do. Even sleeping, she’s sexy. Then she eliminates the need for decision making. She stirs, wipes her mouth and smiles.

“We didn’t even use those fancy jets.”

I kiss her and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I have to get home,” she says. “I’m sorry—”

I cut her off with an index finger to her lips and shake my head. “Never apologize for needing to be with Cory.”

She dresses quickly, something I’m working on. Still not willing to hop in front of her I start to ask for the sleeve and leg, but she already has both laid out on the bed.