Promise(54)

Alrighty then, game on.





Beckett

There are moments in a battle. A firefight, when you’re aiming your rifle at another human being.

Moments when the flexibility of time becomes clear. Time is fluid, it stretches and contracts depending on the experience.

I want this moment to never end.

I want to taste her, touch her. Every inch. I want her every memory, good and bad.

Every dream and fear. Every laugh. Every cry. Every moment.

They all belong to me. They're mine.

I’ve got her mouth held captive with my lips as I flex my hips up, pushing against the heat coming from between her legs. Her pussy is bare. The glimpse I caught has my cock tearing razor wire to get to her.

I’m suffocating, struggling for a breath deep enough to save me from drowning in her. Then she sighs into me, and suddenly we are breathing into each other, saving each other, our mouths wide. Her tongue laps around mine, and I can’t fight wondering how her mouth would feel around my cock.

She is melting against me as my hands wind down her neck, pulling at the lengths of her ivory hair. I hitch my thumbs under the collar of the robe and follow it forward where it crosses in front of her.

My fingertips graze at the flesh by her little, gold, cross necklace. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, her vibrating, muffled whimpers feed me through our kiss.

I want to see, so I break away, and we both gasp into the space between us.

“You keep making those little noises, and you are going to be in a kind of trouble you may not be ready for.” I smile working my fingers up and down.

I want her to know she can still back off because, once we are out the gate, I honestly don’t think I will fuck her in any way, shape or form that is gentle. There is a tightness in me, like a trap ready to be sprung, and she is the prey.

She answers me by shifting back and forth a few inches on the stone-hard length pressing under her and laying her lips back on mine.

That’s it. I work the belt on that damn terrycloth robe like I’m throwing out a lifeline to someone drowning. It’s me; I’m drowning. Drowning in something I’ve never felt before, and I wonder if maybe I’m the one that should be stomping the brakes on what’s about to happen.

What I sure as shit hope is about to happen.

I pull back from our kiss, my eyes starting with her face then moving down.

I’m tearing the thick cloth off her shoulders as stars dance in my eyes are the sheer wonder of her.

“Jesus. Promise. You’re amazing.” I’m breathless.

I don’t know if women understand, and I’m just beginning to. When it’s her, the one that calls to you like it was written in some ancient, forgotten tablet somewhere that you were destined for this one person, there is nothing we won’t do to protect our claim.

Seeing her like this is the finest moment in my life. I’m listening to her halting, gasping sounds as my hands lay greedy on the warm, curved flesh in front of me.

“You are beyond beautiful. No words have been created to describe you.”

I can’t wait, and my mouth is on her, feeding her to me, my lips coming around her rising pink circle. Drawing it deep, the tension breaks and I let out a growl, my teeth tightening.

When I don’t think this moment can get any better, her hands tangle around my head and her back arches into me.

Fuck.

This is my finest hour. This is what it feels like to want to make love to someone. It may not be slow and easy, but I want to love her with myself. I’ve never felt anything close to this.

Her body turns into a serpent, curling and twisting on me until I spring at her. Her pussy is dancing on the outside of my jeans, and I’m about to lose my damn mind.

The robe is gone, torn off, and I want to fucking burn it, so nothing ever covers her again.

The ivory perfection that sits on my lap needs to be under me, on top of me, attached to me. All of her and all of me need to become one.

“Mmmm.” I suck her as deep into my mouth as I can, and this time, my lips curl back, and my teeth press hard until she yelps. My hands wind up and down her back, memorizing every soft inch.

Even as she makes sweet, painful sounds, her hips turn it up, and she squirms harder on the thick bulge that needs to be set free.

I wrangle her legs around my waist and stand, pulling her against me and finally letting the softness of her amazing tit pull free from my mouth.

“That hurt.” She smiles, and I almost explode at the sight of lust in her eyes and joy on her lips.

“Should I say I’m sorry?”

She shakes her head as her lips part, and she tightens her open body around my waist.

“I need it to hurt.” She says it so softly into my ear, I take a second to be sure I heard her right.