My head drops back against the wall behind me as my eyes screw shut. With erratic breaths, I reply, “I don’t know how much more I can take.” My hands grip the edge of the dresser when he switches from one leg to the other, continuing his sensual assault. “I want you, Wes, now… right now.” No longer able to wait, I lift my head and hooded eyelids. My hands fly forward, catching the collar of his shirt. “Now. I want you now,” I whisper, leaning down, crushing my lips against his.
A deep, guttural groan rumbles from deep within the back of Wes’ throat as our tongues collide, mixing and bending and fading into one. His hands travel up my thighs only to reach the button on my shorts. I lift my hips, allowing him to tug them down my body. His next move sends me into a frenzy. The sound of my panties tearing at the seams cuts through our lust-filled haze. Consumed by want, my fingers make quick work of the button on his cargo shorts. Wes strips me of my shirt and pulls the cups of my bra down beneath my breasts. My generous C-cups spill over the lacy material and they are his for the taking. He breaks our kiss, only to let his gaze travel down my body. “You, right here. This is my fantasy come true,” he says as he takes a nipple in his mouth. My eyes never leave his. The sensation of his captivating tongue swirling around my sensitive nipple as he watches me makes my breath catch in the back of my throat. But that breath releases in a rush when the head of his gorgeous, velvety cock spears me in one swift movement.
My hips buck forward, meeting his thrusts. I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him to my breast. “Wes…” His name comes out as a plea.
“What do you need, Baby? How do you want it?” He switches from one nipple to the next. Slowly and leisurely, he pulls out almost all of the way, only to slam back into me again, seating himself deeper than before.
My head shakes from side-to-side as I try to form the words that I need to say. “I need you to go… harder… faster…” I answer breathlessly.
“God, I love it when you tell me what you want,” Wes pants, picking up his pace and giving me exactly what I asked for. The dresser slams against the wall each time he thrusts into me. Moans, skin slapping against skin, and frantic breaths fill the air in my room. My eyes slowly close as the tingling sensation that I am becoming more and more familiar with blooms within me. “Don’t close your eyes. I wanna watch you cum. I want to see how I make you feel,” he groans as his rhythm increases.
My legs wrap around his waist, and my hands clutch his broad muscular shoulders that now have a thin layer of sweat coating them. My toes begin to curl when Wes’ strong hands grip my hips tighter than he ever has before. I can tell he’s close. Within seconds, I shatter to pieces beneath him. My head falls back as my back arches into his unyielding body. His mouth covers mine, catching my moans of pleasure as we come together. “I love you, Kenleigh, and I always will,” Wes whispers against my lips.
“Kenleigh. Wake up.” The sweet, soothing voice of my mother pulls me from my sleep.
“Mom?” I ask with a just woken voice.
“Happy Birthday!” she crawls into bed with me. I peek up at her as I yawn. “We have lots to do today.”
“Why were you made to be a morning person?” I groan and roll over toward her. Curling into the fetal position, I place my hands under my cheek. My mom lifts her hand and smoothes stray strands of hair out of my eyes.
“One day, you will be, too,” she replies cheerfully. “Come on, get up.”
“Mom, it’s my birthday. Can’t I sleep in?” I whine.
“I guess you could, but then your favorite breakfast would get cold. And you know it won’t taste the same if I have to reheat it,” she sighs.
With that revelation, my eyes spring open. “You made all of it?” I arch an eyebrow. Of course, she did. I‘m her and Dad’s only child.
She nods. “Yep. Eggs, bacon, crispy just like you like it, hash browns, and French toast with cinnamon.” Saliva pools in my mouth as I throw back the covers. Honestly, she had me at crispy bacon, and she’s right, it won’t taste the same if it has to be reheated. “But,” she says as she gets up off the bed, “if you want to sleep in…”
“I’m coming. Just let me brush my teeth.” I crawl out of bed, rush past my mom in the hallway, and into the bathroom.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” she chuckles as she passes by the bathroom.
I brush my teeth in record time, scan myself in the mirror, and think, ‘you’re twelve now, Kenleigh. It’s time to start growing up. I brush out the knots in my hair and pull it back into a low ponytail.