Page 39 of When I Come Back
“Don’t worry, greedy girl. I’m not done with you. I just want to be able to run my hands all over your body while I get you ready to come on my cock.” More wetness pools at my core. I love it when he calls me his greedy girl.
He steps back, and I take in his beautiful body. I haven’t seen him fully naked in so long that the sight takes my breath away. He’s all hard muscle and tattoos, and I have to keep myself from drooling. The way his eyes feast on me, appreciating my body in return has me on fire for him.
I can see his tattoos now, specifically the one that travels up his neck and peeks through the collar of his shirts. The second I work out what it is, my breath hitches, and I sit up on my knees with my feet underneath me.
“Turn around,” I say, my eyes never leaving the spot that clearly connects to more on his back. Out of the corner of my eye, his face bunches up in confusion like he doesn’t understand the reason for my request. My eyes trail the space between the edge of his tattoo and his eyes, meeting his stare. He realizes then I’m seeking a memory inked in his skin.
He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, then opens it again. “Thea—”
“Please…” I cut him off, a hint of desperation I’m not proud of tinging my voice.
He turns slowly, and when the image comes together, my hand flies to my mouth. There’s a massive tree tattooed on his skin, the branches crawling up the length of his neck. My eyes frantically search for the tattoo I hope is connected and not covered up by the image that extends over the expanse of his back. I find it moments later, my hand tracing the shape of the lemon delicately hanging from one of the branches. Knowing he didn’t cover it up after all this time has my eyes welling. He turns around to face me, my hand falling down to the bed and his hand finding my left cheek to swipe away the tear as it falls.
I look back up at his face. “When I saw… I thought… I thought—fuck, I thought you covered it up. I thought you’d gotten rid of it—of me...” Another tear falls, another swipe of his thumb to catch it.
“Every memory I have of you is etched in my soul, Thea. There is no getting rid of you.”
I push up onto my knees so I can reach him, place my hands on each of his cheeks, and stare into the depths of his stormy ocean eyes before pressing my lips to his. His tongue seeks mine out, and we hungrily kiss for a long moment. His hands run up my sides, pebbling goosebumps in their wake. They stop right below my shoulders before he gives them a squeeze and gently pulls away.
“Lie flat on the bed, legs spread wide.” His voice is dripping with authority that makes me quiver.
“Yes, sir,” I say in a teasing tone, but he likes it. He likes it a lot. I know because his cock jumps making him wrap his hand around it, stroking up and down lazily. Watching him intently, I get into the position he demanded, pulling a pillow behind my head.
He crawls onto the bed, sitting on his knees in front of me and staring down at my pussy. “You’re glistening for me, baby,” he says appreciatively. The praise goes straight to my core, making my clit throb with need. He grabs right above my left ankle and jerks me closer to him. I yelp in surprise as my head slips from the pillow. He hooks my leg over his hip and thrusts into me all in the same movement, making my head spin. My body is pushed back with the force, my heavy breasts bouncing, and my hands brace behind me on the headboard.
His other hand pushes down some on my lower stomach as he thrusts harder into me, making me feel even fuller. The pressure is tantalizing, already building to another peak. As his hand moves further up my ribcage to my breast, he lowers his body to catch my lips with his. The kiss is deep and vulnerable. The tone of our night has changed from needing to fuck out of desperation to making love.
His kisses trail down from the side of my mouth, all the way down to my neck and reaching the swell of my breast. He kisses, and kisses, and kisses, then suddenly bites down on the tender flesh making me scream. My hands come down to his head, threading their way into his hair. He rolls my nipple in his fingers as he licks the spot he just hurt. Just when I think he’s done torturing me, his fingers are pinching my nipple again, making my whole body shiver.
Cary uses his body to push my thigh almost all the way to my stomach and swirls his other finger around my clit. I throw my head back with a moan as he grunts into my neck, his thrusts never losing their rhythm.
My climax builds with every circle he makes. I slide my hands down his back, scraping against his skin with my nails every time he thrusts into me. His hot skin welts under my grip, leaving my own marks on him.
His face is still tucked into my neck as he says, “You ready for me to fill you up with my cum, you greedy fucking girl?”
I let out a breathy, “Yes, fucking please,” while nodding my head.
He moans again then asks, “How close are you?” Cary has never been a selfish lover. He’s always more concerned about my pleasure, but when we’ve fucked, he always loved it when we came together. It was like stepping off the edge of a cliff and falling into the abyss hand-in-hand.
“I—fuck. Yes.” That’s all I can get out for him. Words always elude me when I’m in the midst of pleasure.
Cary lifts up, freeing my leg from my chest, then starts pounding into me relentlessly. His chest and abs are glistening with sweat, and seeing his muscles move gets me impossibly wetter. Within a few thrusts, my walls clench around him. His cock jerks inside of me letting me know we’re both standing on the edge.
His lips crash into mine like a wave cascading against the shore as we both jump off the cliff.
We’re sated, lying in bed side by side, panting in time together. Our hands have been intertwined since we both climaxed. The only sounds filling the room are our heavy breaths and the music still playing in the kitchen.
Or at least, those were the only sounds before my stomach growls, making us both burst into laughter.
“I suppose that’s fair considering we skipped dinner,” Cary laughs.
He brings our intertwined hands to his lips and places a small kiss on my knuckles. “The chicken’s probably ruined by now, but we still have pie,” he says with a hint of mischief on his face I can’t fully decipher.
I shake my head as I say, “You’re not eating pie off of me.” His shoulders bounce with his laugh, the sound bringing a smile to my face.
“That’s not what I was suggesting, but now that you’ve brought it up, I’m not against the idea.” He smirks down at me then kisses the corner of my mouth gently. As he pulls away, I glare at him, making him throw his free hand up in the air. “Fine, fine. We’ll eat the pie from plates like boring people.”
I try not to laugh at him—unsuccessfully. He bends down once more, kissing my cheek this time then gets off the bed. I watch as his gloriously naked body marked by my hands moves to the bathroom. I hear water running and then he’s back with awarm washcloth. With the utmost care, he spreads my legs and wipes up our combined release.
