“I missed all of it,” I insist. “But I refuse to miss another minute.”
Lorelai presses her lips together, her eyes dark with want, and I feel my pulse kick up a notch in response. “Petition to table the talking portion for now?”
“You love me?” I can’t keep from checking.
She beams. “More every second.”
“Good. One day you might even catch up to me, if you’re lucky.”
I don’t know who moves first. All I know is one moment we’re across the room from each other, and the next, Lorelai is pulling off my damp T-shirt and I’m slipping my hands under her waistband. Her tongue dances with mine and I’m unhooking her bra. It falls to the floor and she’s reaching for my button fly. I kick off my boots and step out of my sopping jeans before her hands are gripping and stroking me, lighting me on fire. I dip my head and suck one perfect dark pink nipple between my lips and swirl my tongue around her tip. She cries out and my cock strains in response.
“Bedroom,” she pants, her fingers buried in my hair. “I want you to make love to me, Huck.”
34
LORELAI
TO HELL AND BACK
Huck follows me to my bedroom and I thank all the stars that I stress-cleaned after taking Maren to the airport.
Sure, we’ve just confessed years-long feelings and he told me he loves me, but that doesn’t mean I let him make love to me on dirty sheets.
I’m not that far gone.
Confession: I’m pretty far gone.
Head over ass doesn’t quite cover it.
Huck makes quick work of my underwear and his and is kissing his way between my aching breasts toward the place where dreams come true when he freezes.
“Fuck. I don’t have a condom. I was in such a hurry and…”
“I have an IUD,” I tell him in between panting breaths. “It’s okay. I’ve been tested, and it’s been ages since I was with anyone besides you.”
“Me too,” he says, his blue eyes clear and tinged with something like awe. Whatever it is makes my heart squeeze. I love him so much.
“I want to feel you. Just you. Is that okay?”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “Are you sure? I can run out. We have all the time in the world.”
I shake my head, feeling overwhelmed and … cherished. And I know I probably shouldn’t ask him to marry me right now. We just confessed our love. Proposals should wait for tomorrow.
But I’m mightily tempted to snatch up this man and make it official.
I buck against him, closing my eyes and muffling my moan against his shoulder when his cock rubs just right against my clit. Hopefully that’s answer enough.
“Fuck, Lorelai. Not yet. I want to make you come on my tongue first.”
God.
Would it be weird if I asked him to put on his glasses first?
You’re right. Next time.
I’m scooting along the bed and rolling to my back when Huck grins and shakes his head slowly, stopping me. “Not like that, baby. I want you on top.”
Hell. I don’t usually blush. I’m not a bashful person, especially when it comes to sex, but I’ve never done that before.
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Please,” he insists, with those eyes, before settling himself on his back, his head on my pillow, and gently tugging me over him.
Oh my god, I’m doing this.
I straddle his face and am barely given half a second to feel embarrassed before his hands grip my thighs and tug me close enough to feel his breath on my center, his tongue slowly curling along the length of my slit and circling my clit over and over.
Instinct takes over, seeking whatever feels the best, and my hips roll against his mouth, where he’s intent on devouring me. His blessed tongue, lips, teeth, and even his scruff have me trembling from head to toe. I reach for the bed frame to steady myself and roll again, setting a rhythm and riding his mouth.
“Lorelai. Oh my god. You taste … I can feel you … It’s … I love you.”
“Oh god, right there. Your fucking tongue—I swear. I can’t … I can’t—”
I’m coming apart, gripping the bed frame so hard it creaks, my clit throbbing and my insides clenching. Suddenly his fingers are thrusting in and up and curling around that magical spot and everything shatters at once. Shivers and waves vibrate and burst again and again and I’m crying out, my voice hoarse and my heart wild.
Eventually I clumsily slip down his body and curl into his side, taking care to avoid his proud cock, and press a kiss to his neck. “I think I need a moment.”
“To recover?”
I grin against his warm skin, tracing patterns on his chest. “To compose a song, more like.”
“‘Ode to Huck’s Tongue,’” he teases.
“‘The Night I Rode Huckleberry’s Face,’ more like. It’ll be one of those epically long ballads.”
Huck flips us so that I’m underneath this time, and his erection presses against my hip in a way so delicious, my legs fall right open of their own accord.
“Look at that,” I whisper around a smirk. “All recovered.”
Huck doesn’t wait, but he doesn’t rush, either. We’ve had sex real fast, real hard, and real hot, but we’ve never had sex like this. He rocks into me achingly slow, his cock stretching me, filling me. Fitting me perfectly. I feel every ridge and flex of him as I come alive all over again. He thrusts in, all the way in, and slips out before doing it again, and quicker than I ever dreamed, I’m gasping and climbing once more.
I spread my legs as far as I can, taking him in, and then wrap them around him, holding him close. So close I can see the little flecks of navy in his irises. So close I can feel the thudding of his heart against me. And then I’m flying. Soaring. My orgasm sneaks up on me, ripping through me so hard I can’t even move, but it’s okay because Huck is moving, still driving powerfully until he seizes with a long, low groan, and I feel him spill inside me.
We stay like that, twined together, for a long time after that. My legs wrapped around him, his head buried against my neck, our bodies connected in the most impossibly intimate way. I should get up. Clean myself and use the bathroom. And I will. But wild fucking broncos couldn’t drag me from this man, yet. This is one of those moments. The ones that flash before your eyes when all’s said and done. The ones that you look back on and go, “Yep. Right there. That was when I knew.”
This man is my forever.
“I love you,” he tells me tiredly, this time muffled against my skin. “So much.”
And even though I want to joke, because it’s what I do, I find I can’t. Not this time. I’m altered.
Instead I tell him, “I love you, too, Huckleberry.”
* * *