“You will,” he says against my dripping pussy. “You can.”
He lifts me higher and dips his tongue deep, dragging it back slowly toward my clit, and circling the swollen bud before taking it between his lips and sucking. He repeats the process twice before I am screaming my second release. I can feel my wetness against his face when he turns his head and kisses each of my thighs before helping me stand. More like helping me lean against the wall so he can stand up.
“When did you take off your pants?” I question when he stands to his full height and his dick stands tall and proud between us. The piercings in the tip stand out against his tan stomach, bumping against his belly button. I lick my lips and he growls.
“Between the first and second time you came all over my tongue. Did you not feel me let go of your ass?”
“Um, baby… I was a little busy.”
“Yeah, and it was delicious.” He gets close again and picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his hips. His thick erection immediately seeks entrance. “Watch me love you.” He pulls his hips back slightly, and I reach between our bodies and help guild him inside me. He settles deep and quick with one thrust, and my head falls back with a thud against the wall.
With his hands on my hips and mine against his shoulders, our lips connect and our bodies lock together. We move as if we have been doing this mating dance for years. It doesn’t take long before he pulls back to look into my eyes, and the love I see reflected is enough to push me over the edge. He pushes me back down and rolls his hips a few times before I feel his warm release against the walls of my pussy.
“You’re such a beast,” I speak softly into his ear before nipping his lope lightly with my teeth.
“But I’m your beast, and baby… every Beauty needs a Beast.”
“Yeah, I sure do.” I laugh and wrap my arms around his neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too. So much, baby.” His warm breath hits my neck and with our bodies still locked together, I know that we will be okay. Our love might be new, but it is powerful enough overcome.
(3 Months Later)
Waking up wrapped tight within Greg’s arms is the best feeling in the world. Even in sleep, he keeps his arms tight around my torso and his legs tangled with mine. My beast. Always ready for anything.
I lift his arm, detangle my legs from his, and slowly slide out of the bed. When I turn to look at him, expecting to find him asleep, his eyes are open and staring at me with a hint of humor dancing in their depths.
“Where are you going, Beauty?” His voice is thick with sleep and just the sound of it shoots straight through my body.
Slipping one of his shirts over my head, I turn around and try to keep a stern face, but fail after only a few seconds. “You could at least make it a little easier to sneak out and make you breakfast.”
“Babe, seriously? You’re already in bed, so that kind of defeats the purpose of giving me my breakfast when you leave the bed.”
Such. A. Man.
“I hate to point out the obvious, but three year olds don’t sleep in. Since we’re pushing 8:00, I think we are lucky he hasn’t come running in yet.” Greg groans and rolls over at the reminder that Cohen is just down the hall. “I think I hear little feet, baby. You might want to get up and put some pants on. I’m thinking if Cohen gets one look at the size of your dick, we are going to have questions for days, not to mention those delicious decorations you’re rocking there.”
He gets up laughing, but before grabbing his briefs and covering himself up, he folds me in his arms and gives me one hell of a good morning kiss. We are just pulling apart when the door swiftly opens, banging against the wall, and Cohen comes flying in. Cape and all.
“Melwee? What are you doing? Why is Greg not wearing his big boy underwear? Why doesn’t Greg have clothes on? I wanna be naked! You’re gonna see his wiener, and Nana said that boys shouldn’t show their wieners to girls. It’s naughty. You’re gonna go to time out.” Sometimes I wonder if breathing is even a requirement for a three year old. I mean, does he want me to answer that? I don’t think so.
I can feel Greg laughing against my back, trying to hide himself behind my body so that we don’t have even more of Cohen’s one hundred questions. “A little help here?” He whispers in my ear.