I thread my fingers with his and draw his hand between my breasts.
Never have I felt so loved, so cherished.
This. This is why I stay. This is why I can't leave.
This.
Chapter 28
Josh
I hate waking up and not knowing where I am.
My heart slams against my ribs. My hands shake as I breathe deeply, trying to control the panic that rips through me.
I suck in a deep breath and inhale a warm, familiar, comforting scent.
Abby.
I move my cheek a little and she is there. Curled into me, her body soft and warm in sleep.
I turn into her, needing the comfort of her body, her scent, to drive away the latent edge of panic. Slowly, so slowly, the panic fades, leaving in its place something else.
Something aching and warm.
At first, I don't believe it. I can't.
I feel like I am twelve years old again as I reach down between our bodies, needing my hand to confirm what my brain is telling me.
That it's not a f*ck
ing dream that will turn into a nightmare when I wake up and see my dick soft and useless once again.
I'm awake. I'm really awake.
And I've got a f*ck
ing hard-on.
There is something like joy inside me. Like there should be doves released into the sky and holy organ music filling the air.
It's hard not to sit there and just hold it. To feel it hard and smooth in my hand. I should feel awkward at best, stroking my cock with Abby right there.
I want to wake her up and be all “look at my fabulous erection”.
But that just feels weird. And a little sad. Because nobody is ever as excited about your own erection as you are.
And I'm afraid if I stop, if I do anything other than lie there, stroking myself slowly, that it'll go away, fading back to being nothing more than a memory.
I squeeze a little tighter. My balls clench at the sensation. Christ it's good, so f*ck
ing good to stroke my cock again. I make a noise, deep in my throat. Something like pleasure, long forgotten.
And then I feel Abby move. She shifts in the bed, rolling toward me. I pause.
I don't know if I should be guilty or proud or ashamed. Heat flashes over my body.
And she nuzzles my neck, her hand sliding down my belly over the sensitive head of my cock to grip me gently.
I almost come right then and there. My balls tighten. I'm there. So close. I want this to last, to not end. To never end.
But her hand is sliding up and down my cock, tugging in just the right place, tightening now, twisting, until I unload, coming on my belly like I might tear apart into a thousand tiny pieces.
"Christ." A prayer. A profanity. I don't know. I can't think. I can only feel as she keeps stroking me until I'm sure I'll die from pleasure.
"See," she whispers, when I'm no longer certain I'll embarrass myself by crying. "You don't have an S&M streak after all." She nuzzles my neck again before nipping my earlobe.
I can feel it already. A stirring, a tightening.
I pull her against me, needing the contact. I am suddenly more afraid now. More terrified that this might be a fluke.
Or that now, I will disappoint her.
She kisses me then, her hand sliding over my cock, caressing the head of it, wet from my own cum.
"Abby.”
"Shh."
She slips her thighs over mine. "We need…"
"I don't have any." I want to cry. "I haven't needed them in so long, I just stopped carrying them around." I close my eyes, not wanting to admit that I'd given up hope of ever being where I am at this exact moment.
She lowers her forehead to mine. "I might cry."
She laughs, tucks her face against my neck and laughs.
But then she shifts and slides her warm, wet heat along the length of my cock.
My entire body burns with the need to be inside her. To feel her surround me.
I grip her hips gently.
And ease her away. "We can't. Not without protection."
She smiles at me. "You really are a saint, aren't you?"
"Not really." I draw her lips to mine. "I just don't want anything to risk what you've worked so hard for."
She blinks rapidly then and kisses me fiercely.
She presses her lips to my throat, my collarbone. I go absolutely still as she inches her way down my chest.
I can't breathe. I can't move.
I can't look away.
She is there, her mouth just there. Her breath is warm on my cock.
And then her mouth, moist and warm and soft, surrounds the tip of my cock, sucking it gently, so gently.
I can die a happy man. She tightens her fist around the base–squeezing, stroking, sucking me.
I can't resist. I thread my fingers through her soft, curly hair and try so f*ck
ing hard not to move. Not to hurt her.
But the sensation surrounds me, drags me away from all conscious thought, until all I can feel, until everything I am is focused on that single sensation of Abby's mouth on my cock.
And then I'm lost, gone, coming again, harder than I've ever come before.
Lost in the unbelievable feeling of finally being home.
Abby