Page 134 of Beautiful Revenge

I stay planted to the root.

Our lips are an inch apart. Our breaths lace into one. And her pussy has my cock in its chokehold. I’ve never been happier.

My words are in complete contrast with what I want. “We should stop.”

She nods. “We should.”

Neither of us moves.

“You feel so good,” she whispers.

“You feel like a bloody dream,” I growl.

I’m holding onto my control with every fiber of my being and pray my cock will comply.

I pull out halfway and slide back in. This time slow and controlled, because if I don’t, the Donnelly family tree will sprout a new limb.

Her pussy squeezes my cock, like she’s holding me there and doesn’t want to let go.

“Again,” she begs. “Just once more.”

I press my lips to hers before I pull out and thrust back in.

And as much as I want this, there’s a part of my brain that fights to slap the reality back into me.

I don’t discuss it or ask, because I’m too close. Hell, that’s what she does to me.

But reality and cause and effect win. I pull out completely, but there’s no way I’ll make it to the bedroom.

I press into her bare body, working her clit again, rubbing it with the underside of my needy cock. I know she feels it when her bare heels dig into my ass. When I really start to move, the table creaks below us, and her breath comes faster in shallow pants.

I’m close, but she’s closer.

She’s going to come again.

“Fuck, yes,” I grit.

She claws my shoulders, and I grip the table below her. When I push her over the figurative edge and her second orgasm hits, her body trembles and shakes and tenses. I come hard, spurting a sticky mess between us. If this is what happens from me getting one feel of her bare, I can’t imagine our life when I can make her fully mine the way I was meant to.

Her fingers loosen on me, and every muscle in her body goes limp. I give her as much weight as she and the table can take and press my lips to the side of her head.

“We’re a mess,” I say.

After another few pants, she disagrees. “No. We’re perfect.”

I stroke her hair and take her mouth one more time. “So fucking perfect, baby. It’s only going to get better. I promise.”

A small smile touches her lips. “I know. There’s something in me that just knows.”

Words bubble beneath the surface ... words that are foreign and premature. I push them away and instead wrap an arm around her back and slide the other under her knees.

She wraps her arms around my neck. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you.”

She tucks her face into the skin at my neck. “In so many ways. Thank you.”

I can’t know for sure, but it feels like we both are talking around words we really want to say.