He reached out and spread her legs wide and began stroking her again and she began moaning at the contact. “My fingers are all wet, which means you’re ready,” he said. “Now for me to get ready.”
And she knew without looking that he was tearing into a condom packet and soon would be sliding the latex over his erection. After that first time in the hotel he’d never made love to her unprotected again, which gave her even more reason to think he wasn’t ready for children. At least not with her, anyway.
From the feel of his erection pressing against her thigh she would definitely agree that at least he was ready for this, probably more ready than any man had a right to be, but she had no complaints.
She came to full attention when she felt his swollen, engorged member easing between her legs, and when he centered it to begin sliding between the folds of her labia and then suddenly thrust forward without any preamble, she began shuddering all over again.
“Look at me, baby. I want to be looking in your eyes when you come. I need to see it happen, Bella.”
She looked up and met his gaze. He was buried deep inside of her and then holding tight to her gaze, he began moving, holding tight to the hips whose legs were wrapped firmly around him. They began moving together seemingly in perfect rhythm, faultless harmony and seamless precision. With each deep and thorough stroke, she felt all of him…every glorious inch.
“You tasted good and now you feel good,” he said in a guttural voice while holding steadfast to her gaze. “Do you have any idea how wonderful you are making me feel?”
She had an idea. If it was anything close to how he was making her feel then the feelings were definitely mutual. And to show him just how mutual, her inner muscles began clamping down on him, milking him. She could tell from the look in his eyes the exact moment he realized what she was doing and the effect it was having on him. The more she milked him the bigger he seemed to get inside of her, as if he intended for her to have it all.
Today she felt greedy and was glad he intended to supply her needs. She dug her nails into his shoulders, at the moment not caring if she was branding him for life. And then he picked up the tempo and pleasure, the likes of nothing she’d experienced before dimming her vision. But through it all, she kept her gaze locked on his and saw how every sound, every move she made, got to him and triggered him to keep it coming.
And then when she felt her body break into fragments, she screamed out his name and he began pumping into her as if his very life depended on it. The orgasm that ripped through her snatched the breath from her lungs as his intense, relentless strokes almost drove her over the edge. And when she heard the hoarse cry from his own lips, saw the flash of something dark and turbulent in the depths of his eyes, she lost it and screamed again at the top of her lungs as another orgasm shook the core of everything inside her body.
And he followed her, pushed over the edge, while he continued to thrust even deeper. He buried his fingers into her hair and leaned down and captured her mouth to kiss the trembles right off her lips. At that moment she wished she could say all the words that had formed in her heart, words of love she wanted him to know. But she couldn’t. This was all there was between them. She had accepted that long ago. And for the moment she was satisfied and content.
And when the day came that he wanted her gone, memories like these would sustain her, get her through each day without him.
And she prayed to God the memories would be enough.
“SO WHEN CAN WE PLAN your wedding reception?” Megan asked when the Westmorelands had assembled around the dinner table at Dillon’s place a few weeks later.