Page 81 of Freak
Andholy shit, he was close. A harsh groan escaped him as he pulled free and hung over her for a minute, reclaiming himself.
She raised her head and looked back. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, babe. You did something very right. Too right.”
She laughed at that, an earthy, pleased chuckle. Fuck, he needed to bottle that sound. Pure sex and deep love swirled together.
“I am gonna fuck you, Abigail Freeman, so good you’re gonna sleep straight through your birthday.”
“But what about the rest of the pies I’m baking?” she asked, grinning happily. “Don’t you want pecan pie for Thanksgiving, hon?”
She didn’t consider her birthday particularly special; she said she preferred to have a regular day. Convinced that her solitary life had trained her not to treasure birthdays, he planned to show her how special they could be. He should have controlled himself and held back the ring for tomorrow, but he’d been too damn excited, and besotted, to wait. He’d figure something else out for tomorrow, and he meant to make it a surprise.
“Okay, after further consideration, I’m gonna fuck you so good you’re gonna need a birthday nap tomorrow after you finish the pies.”
“Seems to me like there’s a lot of talk goin’ on right now, and not much action.”
What the fuck? She wasteasingnow? Playful?
Dazzled and delighted to be with this woman as she uncovered new parts of herself, Mel leaned down and pressed his mouth to her shoulder. “I love you so much it feels like fire in my chest, Abs,” he spoke into her soft skin. “And it feels like medicine, too.”
She brought her hands up and held his head to her. “And I love you so much it feels like a miracle.”
Mel loved on her for a good long while, worshipping every part of her, finding and attending to every spot that pleased her, that excited her, that drove her to sighs and whimpers, to pleas and moans. She was so fuckingsoft. He couldn’t get enough. He slipped his fingers into her, back and forth, around and around her clit, until she rocked and bucked and begged beneath him, her cries muffled by the pillows.
When he lifted her hips, brought her up to her knees, she was putty in his hands, already rocking back and forth before he had hold of himself and sank into her.
“Ah, fuck, you feel good,” he muttered as her hot slick enveloped him, as her muscles clenched around him, as he drew backward and pushed in, as far as he could.
“Oh my, oh my, oh Mel!” she gasped, pressing her ass to him, almost grinding against him.
He sat up on his knees and set a hand on the small of her back.
“Move the way you want,” he said.
She’d been moving almost constantly, but now she stopped. Over her shoulder she said, “How should I? I’ve never done it this way.”
Mel wasn’t giving up control here; he wanted her to find the rhythm she liked. He wanted to know it so he could replicate it. Trial and error worked, sure, but nothing worked like watching.
“Move the way you want,” he repeated. “Figure it out.”
She’d been moving steadily, instinctually, and driving him nuts with it—like grabbing his cock with her ass? Not a beginner move!—but now that he’d instructed her to explore, she was hesitant. So he got her started, shifting on his knees to move himself inside her.
With a soft, almost feral sound of pleasure, Abigail’s instincts kicked back in, and she began to move. After maybe a minute, just as Mel’s need was breaking its chains, Abigail’s need caught fire and her movements shifted from exploratory and curious to driven and demanding. She slammed her ass against him, a little harder each time.
When she suddenly dropped her head into the pillows and began to grunt like an animal, when Mel was starting to see sparks and swirls in his vision from holding his breath so fucking hard, he grabbed her hips in both hands, leaned over her, and fucked her hard and deep.
Just as he was about to lose the last thread of his control, he felt her come, fully screaming now into the pillow, and spasming like a fist clenching around him.
When he came, roaring, his entire body tightening from his toes to his damn ears, a spasm blasted through his middle, and Mel thought briefly that his belly might split open. He didn’t care if it did.
After they both fell into stunned, gasping silence, he pulled out, checked his—unsplit—belly, and dropped, spent and sated, to his side of the bed.
Abigail flopped a hand onto his chest and flipped her head to the other side, to face him again. He smiled and brushed a wet, spiraling curl from her eyes.
“Hey, beautiful. You good?”
“I am perfect,” she sighed with a goofy grin. “I am complete.”
