Page 49 of Catch of a Lifetime
I was keeping part of myself back from him, wasn’t I?
Dave had known what I was doing before I did.
Dave wasn’t having any of it.
He didn’t touch my arm again, but I was pretty sure that I wasn’t getting my orgasm until I came out and looked him in the face. I could tell by the way he kept his rocking stimulating enough to drive me to the edge, but not stimulating enough to bring me over. I could tell by the way he’d started making subvocal sounds that I couldn’t hear in the usual way of hearing, but that I definitely felt, pattering over my skin. I could tell by the way he wasstaring.
I reached up with my free hand and attempted to push his face away and redirect his eyes. I got a sharp nip to my fingertips for my trouble.
I jolted but didn’t move my arm.
Instead, I did my best to work back against him. His abs were as insane as you’d imagine the abs were on someone whose diet was more than likely pure protein and who did nothing but swim all day long. They felt spectacular against my dick.
He wasn’t the only one with abs. I had some of my own. Although they weren’t anything to brag about and I’d never felt the need to immortalise them in a mirror selfie, they were good enough to let me flex back against him and get some of that wonderful heat and friction working the length of my shaft.
His body shook a little. He was laughing at me. Didn’t care. Nearly there. Nearly?—
Dave lifted his body up, easing the pressure.
“Get back down here right now,” I snarled, and hooked both legs around him. “Hah!” I locked my ankles. He unhooked themand pressed them to the sofa. “Goddammit!” I pushed my hips high and into a bridge. If I could just…
Dave chuffed and kept himself out of reach.
Okay, that was it. I lunged at him, got a leg around him and wrestled him around. He rolled me easily, and the next thing I knew I was astride his thighs, hands planted on his firm pecs, and he was gazing up at me.
“Joe,” he said.
I fell on him, lips first.
Our mouths clashed in a messy, desperate kiss. He grabbed my arse. I grabbed his hips. The sofa beneath us groaned uneasily as he drove up and I drove down and the pressure and the friction and the heat was good. It was good. It was?—
I came with a shocked gasp. I gasped again when he held me even closer, tighter, and moaned into my mouth as he joined in.
In general, Dave came about three or four times to my every one.
I won’t lie. It made me feel like some sort of irresistible sex god.
So I’d expected a break of half a minute or so for him to catch his breath and then he’d be off again, while I lounged about and enjoyed the show until I could get another erection, and then we’d both be off.
That wasn’t what happened.
He heaved a gusty sigh and he sea-ottered me.
His arms wrapped around me at shoulders and hips, and he held me tight. I had barely enough room to breathe.
It was perfect.
“I missed you,” I said into the quiet. My head was resting on his chest, and I turned to press my ear over his heart. I listened to the steady, sturdy wallop of it, and smiled. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
He grunted something and cupped the back of my head, pushing his fingers into my dishevelled sex-hair and gripping it.
“You realise of course that this has been my nightmare all along?” I said. “Losing you?”
I traced a nasty scar along his flank, watching my fingertip drift along the angry pink line. “What am I going to do, Dave? I don’t want to spend every six months that you’re away from me worrying about you fighting giant squid. Or fighting anything.” I propped my chin on his chest and gazed at his face. It wasn’t a flattering angle. I mostly saw up his nose. His beautiful, beloved nose.
“Dave.” He was staring up at the ceiling. Mindful of where his bruises had been, I selected an area carefully before I pinched him. He took hold of my hand, lifted it to his mouth, kissed the palm, and set it over his heart.
Yeah. That was all there was to say. For now, anyway.
