Page 38 of When I Come Back
“Fuck, baby, your body is so fucking perfect.” I reach down where his head is covering my breast and run my hands through the strands of his gorgeous hair. While he works one with his mouth, his fingers find the other, pinching my nipple to pleasurable pain that shoots straight to my clit. The sensationcauses me to push his head away, further down, toward where I need him most.
He laughs and looks up at me, his chin resting on my navel. “Does my greedy girl want my mouth on her perfect cunt? Are you dying for me to fuck that beautiful pussy with my tongue?” I let out a moan in response, but he isn’t satisfied with that. He pulls one of my hands from his hair and brings my wrist to his lips, pressing a small kiss on the underside of it right where my Carina Cove tattoo is.
“I need your words, Lem. I need you to tell me you really want this because once I start this time, I won’t be able to stop until I’m coming inside you.” We’ve been toeing this line since the night of the charity event. We both knew it would come to this. We’ve always been ravenous for each other, pulled together like magnets. Even when we’d fight, we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. This is different though. This is our first time after years apart. We aren’t the same people even though it seems the same love exists between us, a love that was never going to disappear.
“I want everything with you, Cary.” My voice comes out breathy, and my other hand pulls at his hair as I say it. I’ve never meant six words more. I don’t want to do this halfway. I don’t want to only have these few moments with him. I want everything. I’ve been too scared to admit that to myself or to him. This life with him, owning RED together, being wrapped in his arms again, it all feels so fuckingright.
There’s a moment after my words hit the air between us where he’s just staring into my eyes, searching for something, but I don’t know what it is. Before I can attempt to question it, he’s placing my hand back in his hair with the other and focusing his attention on the fabric keeping him from my flesh. I wore jeans today. They’re one of my favorite pairs—black skinny jeans that hug my ass just right. He kisses my stomach before slowlyundoing the button. The sound of my zipper being pulled down barely reaches my ears over the sound of “Next To You” by Ole 60 playing in the background.
I push myself up on my elbows as he pulls my jeans down my legs, leaving only my lace thong as a barrier between us. His predatory eyes meet mine as he loops his fingers into the thin material.
“Last chance to stop me.”God, I fucking love the husky tone his voice gets when he’s high on lust.
“Fuck me, Cary.” Those words undo him, all of his patience and uncertainty disappearing. My thong is suddenly on the floor, and he’s throwing one of my legs over his shoulder to spread me wider for him. It’s such a powerful feeling to see a man on his knees for you. My eyes roll into my head, and I lie flat on my back as his lips touch my pussy. I can’t help the unintelligible words and sounds that slip out of my mouth.
He circles my clit with his thumb as his tongue travels all the way down my slit, sucking as he goes. My thighs clench around his head, and the movement draws a moan from his lips that reverberates over my opening. He always got off on making me feel good. It makes me shudder.
“Goddamn, I love how you taste, baby. I’ll never get enough of you.” He continues licking me, circling my opening before he pushes his tongue into me, exactly the way I like it.
He thrusts in and out, groaning against me, still circling my clit with his thumb using an even pressure but faster now. “I want you to come on my tongue, Lemon. Then I’m going to fuck you so hard you come again on my cock.”
As he speaks, he reaches up with his free hand and pinches one of my nipples. My back arches again as he rolls the bud between his fingers a couple of times before grasping my breast in his palm and squeezing. I push his head further into me as myorgasm starts to crest. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed; Cary has always been able to bring me to climax with just his mouth.
I’m squirming with the impending pleasure. He’s pushing my thighs up now, his tongue pulsing deeper into me. It takes one more circle of my clit before I’m falling over the edge and screaming his name. Cary flattens his tongue against me as he captures my release in his mouth.
As I’m coming down, he stands up and pulls me off the counter. I slide down his body to plant my jelly-like legs back on the ground, and I’m reminded that he’s still fully clothed.
His lips find mine and, just like he promised, I can taste myself on his tongue. He’s always said I have a sweet, tangy flavor like a lemon tart. I can’t say I agree, but knowing he loves it so much always gave me a confidence about being eaten out that not all women seem to have.
My hands leave his shoulders to find the button on his pants so I can get us on a more even playing field. Cary laughs into my mouth as I struggle to unfasten his pants. “Need some help with that?” His voice is playful now, the tone more flirty than mocking, but it makes me roll my eyes anyway.
“Have I ever needed help before?” I shoot back at him, finally feeling the button loosen. I give him an I-told-you-so smile that he quickly captures with his lips. I push his pants down enough to release his cock. It quivers as I wrap my hand around it, running my thumb along his slit, feeling the pre-cum beading there, and causing him to moan low in his throat.
His hands glide down to my ass again, lifting me back onto the counter, my grip on him slipping as he does. A chill runs through me at the contact. He pushes his pants down the rest of the way and steps out of them, kicking them off to the side. His shirt comes off just as quickly, his lust-filled eyes never leaving mine. Our discarded clothes are scattered through the kitchen now.
“Lean back a little for me, baby.” I do as he says, leaning back on my elbows again. He strokes himself and smears the pre-cum all over the head of his dick. One of his hands comes up to my hip, squeezing gently. He lines himself up with my center, still holding his base, then slides inside me in one smooth motion. I’m wet enough from my orgasm that there’s no resistance.
We both groan as we get used to the feeling of being connected like this again. He hasn’t moved yet, but I feel his cock throb in anticipation.
“This perfect pussy was made for my cock. You fit me like a fucking glove, Lem.” Our bodies have always felt this way, like they were made for one another. Our hands fit together perfectly, we meld together so well that when we’re connected, it’s hard to tell where one begins and the other ends. I’m just the right height to fold into his body seamlessly. We feel like each other’s missing piece in every way. I’ve never met another person who fits me like I’m the lock, and he’s the key.
He pushes both his hands under my ass and lifts me off of the counter. My arms wind around his neck, and we both curse at the pleasure the movement sparks through us. His mouth is on my neck, biting then licking to take away the pain he caused. Cary walks us to the hallway leading to my room but turns to press my back against the wall instead of carrying me to the bed.
With his hips keeping me pinned to the wall—and his dick still inside me—he pulls my arms from his neck then pushes them up against the wall over my head. Our eyes meet for a moment, then he slides one hand back down my arm, the other one holding my wrists in place on the wall. I see the glint of darkness in his eyes telling me his next move.
He reaches my shoulder and gently grazes his fingers over my neck before closing his hand around it. My pussy clenches around him as his hand tightens just a bit.
“You still like being choked with a cock deep in your cunt?”
I can’t answer, so I nod my head yes as much as I can manage. His hand loosens again as he starts to thrust in and out of me. He feels so fucking perfect. I don’t know how I survived the last eight years wasting my time on bodies that weren’t his.
He slams his mouth against mine, tugging my bottom lip with his teeth, and sucking on it—hard. The sound of our bodies slapping together drowns out the music playing from the speaker. His forearm rests between my breasts, and every time they bounce from his thrusts, the hair from his arm brushes against me, peppering my skin in goosebumps.
Suddenly, both of his hands release me and are back on my ass, moving us toward the bedroom again. My arms wrap back around his neck as I try to grind down on his dick, seeking the friction.
This is the same house I grew up in, so he knows it as well as I do. Brooks was, surprisingly, kind enough to fix a lot of the outdated and broken things for me, but for the most part, everything is the same. The biggest difference, which I’m sure is the reason why he stops and looks at me with an unspoken question, is I’m no longer in the room he remembers. I moved into the primary bedroom about six months after I put my mom in Saint Stephen’s. It got real old not having an en suite bathroom.
“The one on the right,” I try to say nodding to the door, but it comes out as more of a whisper. Luckily, he hears me anyway. Once we’re at the threshold, he kicks the door open allowing us room to pass through. He clicks on the light, and I’m laid down on the bed. Cary pulls out of me, and I whimper in response. He looks down with a smile.
