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The Private Serials Box Set(48)

By:Anie Michaels


     



 

"Please," I begged him.

"I thought about you every second of every day. And your body was one of  the things I thought about the most. I couldn't get you out of my head.  Couldn't forget the way your pussy felt against my fingers, the way it  gripped my cock when you came, the sounds you made when I finger-fucked  you like this in that closet." He looked into my eyes, slipping another  finger into me, curling them both, and making me whimper. "Tell me you  thought about me too."

"Yes," I agreed, immediately. I'd do anything he wanted, just as long as he never stopped touching me.

"Tell me what it was like to be away from me." He widened his stance in  the shower, giving himself more leverage to push his fingers even deeper  into me, using more pressure on the spot that drove me absolutely  crazy.

I looked into his eyes and I knew he was hurting, needed reassurance  that he wasn't alone in his feelings for the last two months.

"I was broken," I cried. "Shattered." I breathed the words out and  nearly saw the weight lift off his shoulders. It was what he needed, to  know I was just as lost as he was while we were apart. That without him,  I was in pieces.

"I'm about to fucking fix you." His hand was gone in an instant, and  then, suddenly, I was full. He thrust inside of me, just once, with such  force I cried out, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and holding  on. He pushed into me and then stilled, deep inside. We were both still,  the only movement our breaths, and I was simply remembering what it was  like to feel like all of him fit inside of me perfectly. I was so  deliciously full, stretched exquisitely over him, and it was the most  glorious feeling.

"No no no," I said, panicked when he started to pull out. "I'm not ready. Just, let me … "

"Shhh," he hushed me, swiping the hair off my face again. "I've got  you." Then he pressed a sweet and soft kiss against my mouth. His tongue  swept slowly over my lips and I opened for him, welcoming him in,  tasting him. As he kissed me, he slowly lifted my other leg and I  wrapped them both around his waist, letting him pin me against the wall  completely. He pulled away, but only far enough to speak, his forehead  still pressed against mine. "I'm going to move now, okay?"

I nodded, thinking I was ready for it, but gasped when he pulled out  just slightly. My nerves were shot, every fuse inside me blown, all the  synapses firing all at once. I was so keyed up; I could feel my  impending orgasm just waiting for me, mocking me, teasing me.

He was moving so slowly; it was agonizing. He pulled out, then slid in, dragged back out. I could hardly take it any longer.

"Please … faster … "

He sped up his thrusts, building a tempo, drilling into me, his mouth  finding every surface available to assault, his hands gripping my  thighs, supporting my weight.

I was hanging on the edge of my orgasm, keening against his throat,  trying desperately to find the release my body was thirsting for.

"Lena, fuck, you're so sexy. Reach down and touch yourself. Make  yourself come." I didn't need any more instruction than that. My hand  found its way between us, and feeling him sliding in and out of me was  almost enough to throw me over the cliff, but my finger started circling  and a loud moan escaped me.

"Oh, God … "

That orgasm would forever be remembered as one of the best in the  history of orgasms. It was the kind of orgasm that made every muscle in  my body constrict right down into my belly, and then, as if on cue, they  all exploded in a synchronized burst of sensation that could have  blinded me. It was a toe curling, lung seizing, nail scratching,  unadulterated, fucking fantastic orgasm.

Preston pumped into me throughout the entire experience, prolonging it,  making it that much better, kissing my screams away. When I'd settled  and stopped trembling, he leaned away from me and slowly placed my legs  back down, feet firmly planted on the floor.

"I want you in a bed, sweetheart. This was hot, and I definitely needed  to get inside of you, but I can't touch you the way I want to like this,  can't be as close to you as I'd like."

"Okay," was the only thing I could come up with as a response. He kissed  me again, deeply, before he led me out of the shower. He took a towel  from a shelf and started at my shoulder, running it down the front of  me, moving down my belly. The towel wasn't anything special, pretty  typical in fact, but it made me remember the towels at his condo back in  Portland and how they'd been so soft against my skin.

"You didn't bring your expensive towels with you to Hawaii?"

A grin spread over his face. It was a playful grin, almost boyish, and  it was beautiful. "No, but these will do for now. We can have something  to look forward to when we go back to Portland."

My stomach bottomed out at his words, my mind automatically going into  overdrive. I hadn't thought about going back to Portland. Ever. I wanted  to be as far away from that place as I could get. The thought of  following Preston back there sent me into a panic. He must have noticed  my face freeze and eyes widen because he was instantly in front of me  with his hands cupping my face.

"Hey, hey, Lena, it's fine. We don't have to think about that right now.  It was stupid of me to say that. Please, baby, don't get upset."

"I don't know if I can ever go back there."

"I know. I understand. Don't worry about it."

"I came here and built a life. I started over. I made it, on my own, for  the first time in my life. I can't go backward, Preston."

"Lena," he said, grabbing my shoulders firmly, looking me right in the  eyes. "I would never make you do anything you didn't want to do. We  don't have to figure this out right now. Right now, I just want to be  with you and I don't really care where, geographically, we are." His  grin snuck back onto his face and melted my panic a little, and my  breaths evened out.

"Okay," I sighed.

He took my hand and led me back into the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of  the bed, he pulled me to stand between his legs, his hands sweeping  over the skin of my thighs, goose bumps trailing behind his fingers. He  leaned forward and laid soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses along my belly.

"I know I've said this a lot today, but I really missed you, Lena." His  eyes met mine and I'd never seen them more sincere than in that moment.

I swallowed and brought my finger up to run through the hair just above  his ear. "I spent a lot of my time trying not to think about you at  all." My hand dropped down so that my palm was flush against his cheek.  "But that doesn't mean I didn't feel your absence. I did. I ached for  that person I fell in love with, but it hurt so much because I didn't  think it was real."

"The way I feel about you is the most real thing I've ever experienced."

I moved to place one knee on the bed next to his hip, then lift my other  to do the same, straddling him. His hands smoothed over my skin, moving  from the front of my thighs to the back, then both of his hands were  molding to my ass, pulling me closer into him.

"Show me," I said quietly just before I kissed him.

He kissed me endlessly, or so it seemed, and his hands were everywhere,  roaming every inch of my skin. When he moved to lift me, I let him lay  me out on the bed, feeling his magnificent weight press me into the  mattress and his mouth rained kisses all over my face, neck, and chest.  The urgent, filthy mood we'd established earlier was gone, and we were  swimming together in a pool of lust and affection.

When he finally slid into me, we both let out matching groans. His hands  moved my wrists above my head, linking our fingers together, holding me  down, and his face curled into my neck.

"God, I love you, Lena." He nearly choked on the words; they were so full of emotion.

"I love you too," I managed, just as overcome as he was.

From that point on, there were no more words; we didn't need them. His  mouth spoke to me in kisses, his body communicating with panting breaths  and tensed muscles. I conveyed my pleasure through touch, urging him on  with whimpers.

His body prayed to mine, worshipped it. I'd never experienced sex in a  way that left me so emotionally vulnerable than I did with Preston.  Every move he made was a promise to me. Every time his mouth met my  skin, I could feel his intentions, understood the meaning behind the  movement even without him telling me. We were both wrapped up in using  our bodies to connect, to impart our love.

When he came, I was on my side, legs splayed open, him behind me, with  his hand wrapped around my jaw, pulling my mouth to kiss as he switched  between biting my lip and sucking it into his mouth between thrusts. He  sighed into my mouth as he came, trembling. He didn't pull away at first  and we just laid together, connected, breathing heavy, lost in the  reality of us together.

When he finally moved away, he kissed my temple as he pulled out.

"Stay there, sweetheart."