Wreck the Halls(84)
His entire world was narrowed down to his soulmate straddling his hips, still in that dick tease skirt and stockings, her tits pouting at him in the lamplight. Their hands collided while reaching between her thighs and they ripped her panties off in a joint effort, Beat dragging his cock to her entrance and groaning deep in his throat. Melody correctly interpreted that as his wordless plea to lower down, and she did, her knees trembling against his rib cage, her eyes losing focus with every new inch she took inside of her.
“Oh my God.” He flexed his ass and lifted, grinding up into her, transfixed by her teeth sinking into her lip, the palms that slid through the sweat on his chest to clutch his shoulders, her hips beginning to punch and roll. Punch and roll. The sight of her enjoying herself on his cock, no reservation, no pretense, was so erotic and awe inspiring, Beat felt almost greedy gripping her ass cheeks and riding her harder. But he was too lost, his body moving of its own volition in a perfectly synced dance with Melody’s, as if they’d been born to fuck each other. “Mouth, Mel. I don’t think you understand, I’ll fucking die without it.”
She muffled that last word with her lips and color went off like a firework in his head, his lungs replenished with oxygen, heart booming out of control. His right hand left her backside to bury in her hair and if he died in that moment, he would have died happy, because Melody’s tongue was in his mouth and she was . . . Christ . . . she was edging him again. She’d slid her knees back and was now rubbing her clit on him slowly, but no longer plunging him in and out of her body. Just leaving him fully buried, her walls throbbing around him, her mouth devastating him with every stroke of her tongue. But no movement. She left him on the verge of an orgasm without enough friction to get there.
“Good girl,” he said, not recognizing his own voice, his chest heaving between them. “Get your own. Take your own. Use me to come. Please. That’s all I want in my fucking life is to be the man who gets you off, Peach.” He pulled her forehead down to his. “Tell me I fill it up tight. Tell me it’s yours.”
“It’s mine,” she gasped, her trembles turning more severe.
He couldn’t help it. He started upthrusting, his flesh smacking in quick succession off hers. Making rough love to her from below. “Tell me you are mine.”
“I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”
“I’m yours, too, Mel. All of me. Take it.”
“D-don’t stop. Keep doing that.”
“Don’t stop what?” He pressed their cheeks together, so he could speak against her ear. “Plowing your little wet cunt? Couldn’t if I tried.”
She made a strangled sound, her intimate muscles constricting around him.
Almost there.
The hand still clutching her ass applied more pressure, shoving her hips down to meet his upward drives. “I know it’s a long fall, but I’m going to catch you. Every time,” he said through his teeth. “Let go.”
That reminder of their unique trust turned out to be the push she needed and the results would be seared on his brain for the rest of his life. The way she bore down with her lower body and let out a muffled scream into his neck, her pussy shrinking up tight around his shaft and throbbing through an orgasm, her back, thighs, and belly shaking, every inch of their sweating bodies fused together. Colors that hadn’t been invented splashed on the backs of his eyelids, his mind in a state of total and complete nirvana over giving Melody pleasure.
But more. He needed more. He needed to consume her, so he wouldn’t have to live a minute of his life without feeling her presence in his fucking bones. Get deeper. Taking her mouth in a rough kiss, he flipped them over on the couch, using his shoulder to press her knees high, all the way to her shoulders and he lost it. He completely lost his mind.
I don’t have to pull out.
I don’t have to stop.
More than that, though, he couldn’t fathom doing either of those things. Who would want to leave the cradle of this perfect human’s body until they were forced to?
Not him. Never again.
Her bent legs were preventing him from kissing her, so he threw them over his shoulders, the cushion of her calves meeting the breadth of his back. He slung one arm beneath her hips to hold her steady and gripped the arm of the couch with the other, riding her in an aggressive way, encouraged by her kisses and moans, that he’d never associated with love, not until now. But then again, he’d never expected to be this deeply devoted to anyone. Never expected to find out what romantic devotion even meant.
For Beat and Melody, it meant trying to exchange souls through every eager kiss, every rough slam of his hips. For them it was a battle they both could win.
“I’ve never come inside of anyone,” he panted in between plunders of her mouth. “And I’ll never come inside of anyone else.” His lips raked over to her ear, his teeth closing around her lobe in a light snap. “I know that’s part of what’s making you so wet.”
“Fair is fair,” she hiccuped, reaching overhead to cling to the arm of the couch. Looking him in the eye. “You’re my only one, too.”
“Mel,” he choked out, his abdominals reaching peak strain. “Melody, I’m there.”
“I know, baby. You’re so big now.”
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, pinpricks of light appearing in his vision. Melody calling him “baby” drop-kicked him right over the edge. And he didn’t have a single second thought about pulling out. There was no option but joining himself completely with this woman.