Page 91 of Absinthe Dreams
“No ticks here,” he murmured, and kept on with deeply massaging concentric circles into my heel and arch, the ball of my foot, and along my toes.
It was pure heaven.
He worked on one foot, then the other, before moving up the back of my leg, pressing firmly in the center of my calf just above the Achilles tendon and running his thumbs in advancing swirls to the back of my knee, and then back down.
“I don’t feel any here,” he whispered, and his voice had deepened and taken on that intensity that I so loved when we made love.
He moved to the other leg and repeated his ministrations, and I felt some of the tension leave my body.
He went torturously slow, moving all the way up my thighs, pressing into my hamstrings, and taking time with massaging the globes of my ass before pressing those magical thumbs of his into just the right spots at my lower back, his fingers wrapping around my hips and hitting the spots filled with stress and tension so perfectly I cried out.
“You okay?” he checked with me.
“Yeah, just hit a spicy spot – but I love it, don’t stop. Please, keep going.”
He chuckled and did as I asked, working his way all the way up my back but not once forgetting what theactualmission was – checking me carefully, moving my hair and running fingers through it, carefully inspecting my neck and hairline for any hitchhikers. He continued with his ministrations, pressing thumbs into that bitter spot at the base of my skull where it connected to my spine and working all the headache-inducing tensions out of it until I was as relaxed as could be and bobble-headed from his touch.
“Turn over,” he ordered gently, and I was so comfortable that I had difficulty wanting to comply.
Comply I did, though, and lay on my back. He captured my mouth with his and kissed me softly, his hands wrapping around my throat in a way that could be considered frightening if it wasn’t Chainsaw that was the one touching me. He smoothed his hands over my skin and across my upper chest and shoulders, pressingjust enoughto work at any tightness or tension there, then, with this cute, little-boy, mischievous smirk, fondled my breasts, kneading them like stress balls in his big hands, making me break out into a fit of giggles.
He made a face at me like he was crazy, and smoothed down over my stomach, continuing the work he’d put into my back.
It was nice, if a bit too short.
By the time he reached back down to my feet, he parted them, rearing up on his knees, and walking forward on them up between my thighs.
I was more than ready and wanting, the thick length of his cock standing at attention, just an inch or two below his belly button, straining in his want for me.
“Just one last place to check,” he murmured in that dusky lust-filled tone, and he shouldered my thighs apart and went down to eye level with my pussy.
He looked at me, hungrily, and smoothed thumbs down the sides of me, where my legs joined my body, away from anyreallysensitive areas, but pulling the lips of my vagina apart. He gazed on me with reverence and rolled those blue eyes up to look at me, before he flicked out his tongue and licked me from opening to clit.
The sensation of it wrested a sound from my throat, and I let my head fall back, even as my hands found the back of his head and tangled in his long hair, pulling him closer to my center.
He worshipped me with his mouth, bringing me to an unearthly height just shy of breaking atmosphere, before he maddeningly stopped, and let me come back down, edging me, with a wicked gleam in his eye.
He put on a condom from the bedside table, making his movements slow, unhurried, and deliberate while I waited in almost painful anticipation as he made himself ready.
I was writhing, begging with breath and body for him to fill me, and make me whole again, when he leaned over me, dropping down like a predator pouncing on his prey. He was so stiff, he didn’t even need to guide himself in – his body knowing the way, and sliding into my wetness with very little effort at having to work himself in.
I was ready, and wanted him badly. He smiled this small smile of appreciation, even as his eyes slid shut as he gave himself over to the sensations of our union.
I wrapped arms and legs around him and pulled him to my breast, even as he withdrew from me, almost completely, before surging forward again.
It took a moment for us to find a natural rhythm that was both stimulating enough to get us off the ground, but gentleenough to take it easy on our mutual drinking to excess the night before.
Even though we had laid his brother to rest this morning, I think we both keenly felt as though today was a new beginning, something that was full oflife.I had the thought, fleetingly, that if ever there was a man that I could or would want children with and to grow old with, it was Chainsaw…
I had spent most of my adult life running from my past in a way, and trying to get away from the life as a woman attached to a club… but in Chainsaw, and club life, I had found a home not only that I belonged to, but one I wouldn’t trade the world for.
I loved him. I loved his found family and the people he surrounded himself with, and I wouldn’t trade any of them for anything.
I didn’t even think I was afraid of losing it all – not even with all that had happened. I just had a feeling… maybe it was denial, or delusion, but in my heart of hearts, I honestly believed that it would all be okay.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Chainsaw…
