Page 60 of Chasing Blue

My brain screams at me to push him away. My whorey left leg has other ideas and lifts and curls around him as my grabby hands dive into his arse cheeks, pulling him tighter against me.

We grind.

We kiss.

We groan.

His hands slide inside the pyjama pants I’m wearing, and because I didn’t bother with undies after my shower this morning, he finds my bare arse.

“Fuck, Blue,” he says into my mouth as he lifts me off the ground, pinning me to the wall with his hips. I wrap both legs around him as he kicks my front door closed.

My hands are under his hoodie, under the T-shirt he has on beneath, clawing at his back’s warm skin.

He’s hard. His cock grinding against me through his jeans, but it’s not enough, I need more. Frantically I pull at his clothes. Stepping back, he keeps hold of my arse cheeks as my feet slide to the floor. Then his mouth is back on mine, still hard, still forceful, but this time, I’m right there with him. His tongue pushes inside, mine pushes right back, and they tangle until he again steps back, this time it’s to pull my hoodie off over my head. I’m wearing just a singlet underneath with a built-in shelf bra. He pulls the straps down my arms, the rest down to my waist and stops.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers before reaching out a hand and brushing his thumb over my nipple. His eyes scorch a path from my chest up to meet mine.

“You are so fucking beautiful, Blue.”

I’m not sure if he steps towards me or if I reach out and pull him in, but we’re once again frantic. I pull his hoodie and tee over his head, then he helps me unbuckle his belt, unbutton his jeans, and pull down his fly.

He pulls down my pyjamas, and I step out of them, kicking them away to join the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor.

He’s still wearing his boots so can’t do the same with his jeans, but it doesn’t matter, I don’t care, I can still get to what I’m after.

I pull his jocks down over his hips and wrap my hand around his cock. It’s hard, thick, and swollen, and I desperately want it inside me.

His hands again go to my arse. He lifts me up and against the wall as I wrap my legs around him. It only takes a little adjustment before we’re perfectly aligned, and with one thrust of his hips, he’s inside me.

And instantly, I’m right back there.

Reliving that one other time I let myself go. Handing my heart and my body up on a plate, only to have it shattered into far too many pieces before it got stomped on and ground into a pulp. Back to when the best night of my life turned into my biggest mistake, one I’ve never recovered from, and one I obviously learned nothing from because the man who did all that damage all those years ago, is the same man buried inside me right now.

“Blue?”

My name sounds rough and scratchy as he says it, filled with so much warmth and concern, it makes my head spin.

“Open your eyes and look at me, baby,” he orders.

When I do as I’m told, I find him staring down at me with those green fucking eyes of his. Right now, they’re so dark, they look almost blue.

“Is something wrong? Is this not okay, not what you want?”

I shake my head, licking my lips at the same time.

“Condom,” I whisper. “No cond . . .”

“Fuck. Fuck me, I’m so sorry,” he interrupts.

Leaning in, he rests his forehead against mine, and we stand this way for a long moment; me naked, except for my singlet pulled down to my waist, him with his boots still on, jeans and jocks scuffed around his ankles, cock still hard inside me.

I use the moment to feel his chest hair brush against my nipples, to breathe in the scent of his aftershave, of him, his clean skin, shampoo . . .

“If I pull out to put a condom on, will you let me back inside?”

His eyes dance across my face, and his hand comes up to rest his fingers along my jaw as his thumb brushes over my cheek.

My blood pulses through the thin skin near my throat so frantically, it’s almost painful.