Page 72 of Embracing the Beat
One of his arms circles my waist, holding me against his tongue. I can’t squirm away, and the orgasm barrels down, ready to consume me. I fight the pleasure, desperate to make him come first. Sheathing my teeth with my lips, I apply a light pressure, and I’m rewarded when his thigh jumps under my hand.
In response, he presses against the tight pucker of my ass. I can’t hold it off anymore. My toes curl into the mattress on either side of his head, and I moan, so overcome I don’t release him, using his cock to muffle my cries as wave after wave of intense pleasure pummels me. Finally, I collapse against him, my mouth breaking the connection as air saws in and out of my lungs.
“I win,” he says before lifting me and spinning me to face him.
He pulls me down, claiming my mouth even as his hips shift to impale me in one sure thrust.
Aftershocks pulse through me, and I whimper around his tongue.
Breaking the kiss, he trails his lips to my jaw before nipping down my neck.
“This is going to be fast, baby.”
He holds me to him, a hand on each hip, as he drives up and down faster and faster until another orgasm shimmers at the edges.
“Oh god.” I bury my face between his neck and his shoulder.
“Not god,” he growls. “Just me.”
He increases the tempo again, hips rocking, and I sink my teeth into his shoulder, this orgasm shattering me into a million pieces of white-hot heat and pleasure. He lifts once, twice more, and stills, emptying himself into me with a growl as he holds me close.
When he finally loosens his hold, he rubs his hands up and down my back in slow, soothing circles.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks.
“I missed you,” I admit and rub my cheek against the light dusting of hair on his chest.
His chuckle is more a vibration in his chest than a sound.
“I could tell,” he teases.
“Don’t make fun of me,” I say in a pouty tone.
He squeezes me as his lips brush my hair. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you. I’m glad you’re here.”
“You are?” Glancing up, I meet his eyes in the mostly dark room.
“I am,” he says. “I missed you too.”
I lower my head back down, and he resumes making patterns on my back. His heart is a soft melody under my cheek, and my eyelids grow heavy.
“Good night, baby.” His lips graze my hair once more.
“Night,” I murmur, relaxing into the sleep waiting for me.
I barely hear his alarm go off a few hours later, but I wake with the warmth of his lips when he presses them to my temple
“You smell good.”
He huffs a laugh. “Thanks, I think. I have to go to work.”
“’Kay.” I burrow into the pillow, not ready to leave the warmth of his bed.
“You want to stay here?” he asks.
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’d love to tell you to stay exactly like this and wait for me to come home, but something tells me your parents wouldn’t approve.”
