Page 95 of Pucked Up Plans
“How much I want you inside me. No matter the consequences, I want this. Give me an orgasm.”
Cockiness has replaced my fear. I’m not sure which one is worse.
“I think I will.”
He springs up, urging my shoulders to rest on the bed. Fuck, his body’s sexy. In all honesty, I want to lick his six-pack abs, not his dick. I want to trail my tongue over each divot, every crevice. I slap my hand over my mouth when I moan. Walsh quickly yanks it away.
“Unless something other than what’s happening in this room elicited the moan, don’t stop.”
“All you. Just thinking about how good my orgasm will be. When you get to it.”
He raises the eyebrow with the scar, the faded reminder of an injury enhancing his sexiness. “I’m not the one stalling here.”
His unintentional words slice through me. He’s right. I’m totally stalling, yet begging him to get on with it. He must be some kind of saint. Any other guy would have bailed by now. Even if they were okay with my mom status, this would have sent them packing. But not Walsh.
“You’re incredible.” I speak the words aloud as my brain processes them.
“You’re pretty special yourself, Tate. Now, can I get on with it already?”
He doesn’t wait for my answer.Smart man.
Within a minute, he’s sheathed himself.
As I lie down in a semi-comfortable position, I drive away any negativity creeping in, tuning in only to what’s happening between Walsh and me. Not what happened in the past. Not what comes next. This moment right now. The one in which he moves into position over me, resting on his forearms. I sneak a peek at his muscles, the way his arms flex causing the veins to protrude. My tongue darts out of my mouth at the spectacle.
“Eyes up here,” he commands. “Are you wet for me, Tate?”
As if on cue, the moisture pooled in between my thighs trickles out. At least lubrication won’t be an issue. “Yes. So wet.” I reach a hand down there, but he bats it away.
“Oh no. There won’t be any of that. This is all on me, babe. I dole out the orgasms.”
I want to laugh at his comment, but I refrain, keeping any comical notes to myself. Besides, my head’s stuck on his use of “babe.” It doesn’t escape my notice he’s used it twice since we’ve been in the bedroom.
He reaches his right hand in between my legs, checking for evidence I’m telling the truth. His fingers inch their way in, my body responding in a way I’ve never felt before. Wound up tight like a coil is the only analogy my mind can supply. Unlike a coil, the need for release is strong.
My body writhes with need, my fingers fisting the sheets. “Don’t make me come on your fingers. I want to feel more,” I plead, as his fingers work me into a frenzy. So close, yet I don’t want to fall. I want his dick.
“Bossy.”
I lift my head off the pillow to observe him but get a view of the top of his head. He shifts himself to fit between my thighs. I widen them for ease.
Letting go of every inhibition I had mere moments ago, I wait with bated breath for him to breach my opening. And when the tip nudges in, I call out. Not in pain, but in genuine pleasure. Sixyears is a long time to go without sex, especially for someone so young. By the time I got pregnant, I had only had sex a handful of times.
“Fuck. I said not to stop moaning, but damn girl. I’m on thin ice here and can’t make it good if I come early.”
“It’s already better than I could have imagined. Go deeper. I need more of you. So much more.”
My walls grip him tightly as he pushes in. Slow at first, but at my insistence, he moves quicker, sensing to propel swiftly past the spot of pain. Although subtle, it still causes me to wince. Guess delivering a baby hasn’t lessened the pain.
Once he’s seated all the way in, he chooses when to move, thrusting in and out, my body reacting to every push and pull.
Pleasure consumes me. This isn’t the experiences I had before. There’s more to this than sex. More of an emotional connection among the physical.
My hands grip his back, tugging him nearer, as close as I can get him. My fingertips dig into his shoulders, paralleling the throbbing where he pistons inside me.
The orgasm barely starts before it full-on floods me. Waves and waves of ecstasy pulsate every crevice, and I feel it everywhere, not just in my abdomen. Warmth spreads throughout me, the sensation unmatched.
I scream out Walsh’s name as my name falls from his mouth with a grunt. It brings some awareness back. So blissed out, I forgot there was someone else in the room for a moment. A feeling of such strong elation took over, rendering me oblivious.
