I work her that way, alternating my tongue and my fingers in tandem with the vibe, taking her to the edge time after time until she’s a puddled mess, begging for release. I’m humping the bed beneath me, my dick desperate to get inside her.
I can’t wait any longer. Neither can she. I’m so close to the point of no return that it’ll barely take a stroke and I’ll probably spill all over her belly, and I can have her coming in a heartbeat too.
She holds her hands out, a clear invitation of what she wants.
“Are you sure?” I ask. One last chance before I take her.
She nods, and with me lined up with her pussy, she reaches one hand down, guiding me in. I take it slow, not because Luna needs the adjustment time but because I want to feel her envelop every inch of me in her heat. This is a sensation I’ve never felt before, a loss of my own virginity of a sort.
With Luna. It seems right that it’s with her.
When I bottom out, I pull back before sliding in again. Slowly, we pick up the pace, and at some point, her legs end up on my shoulders. Bit by bit, I lean forward, watching her for signs that it’s too much, but she must’ve been telling the truth about doing yoga because her legs are up by her ears and I’m pounding into her raised pussy in minutes.
She tilts her head back and pleads, “Hand necklace.”
“Goddamn it, Luna,” I grunt. But I wrap a hand around her neck gently. “This what you want?”
“Choke me, please.” She smiles as her eyes clear. Luna might not be experienced, but she knows what she wants.
I squeeze gently and feel the corresponding flutter against my cock. Wanting to try something more, I keep one hand around her throat and smack her ass with my other.
“Oh!” she cries out with the sharp sound. I do it again and again, each time the cry becoming more of a guttural moan. Luna’s going wild beneath me. She thrashing her head, and I have to press harder to hold her in place. Her calves are digging into my shoulders for leverage as she bucks, making her ass slap my hips as she takes my cock deep. I wrap an arm over her legs, pinning her there, and take control.
I fuck her hard, legs locked and throat pinned, totally at my mercy.
“Do you want to come, Luna?” I grit out through clenched teeth.
“Yes! Please, can I?”
“Good girl,” I praise at her remembering to ask. “Can I come too? I promised you we’d come together, and I’m about to fill this pussy up with my cum for real.” Fresh tingles run from my balls up to my spine. “I’ve never done that, Luna. I want to . . . with you.”
I want her to understand that this is special to me too. She is special to me.
“Together,” she agrees.
We fight to get there, and when she’s right on the edge again, I hold her impaled with my cock bottomed out inside her, making shallow thrusts, and manage to grunt out, “Say you’re mine, Luna. Say you’ll marry me.”
“Yes!” she screams as the flutters of her pussy surround me. I’m not sure if she’s answering me or crying out her pleasure, but I’m going to hold her to it. Either way, I can’t hold back any longer and I spill inside Luna. Hot spurts of cum jet from my cock, and the idea that I’m marking her is ridiculously sexy to a deep, dark, possessive part of my soul.
It might not be right, but it’s the truth.
As Luna comes back to consciousness from her orgasm, I keep pumping into her, wanting to keep my cum deep. “Goddamn, Luna. You’re fucking amazing.”
She sags back, taking her legs from my shoulders to let them hang down limp and flopping her arms onto the bed. I trace my hands over her skin, petting her all over. When my now-soft cock slips from her, I use my fingers to push our combined cum back into her.
“You’re a slippery mess,” I tell her. She squirms, probably thinking it’s some sort of insult, and I swat her hip. “Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Your pussy covered in our cum, white cream spilling out but your pussy sucking it back in when I push my thumb inside you. You want it there, don’t you?”
I glance up, and she nods silently, her eyes bright with mischief.
I whisper, “Want to know a secret?” I don’t wait for her to answer, just tell her, “I want it there too. My cum marking you and then drying over your thighs when it runs down your legs. I want to rub it into your skin like lotion so you know you’re mine.”
She laughs lightly. “Yours? I’m not yours, Carter. That was just . . . you know, dirty talk.”
In an instant, I slam my fingers inside her, impaling her hard and deep and fast, and lean over her, getting right in her face, nose to nose. “Mine. You said yes, Luna. You’re going to marry me.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY
LUNA
What the hell? Was Carter serious? He couldn’t have been serious! It was sex talk, that’s it.
But the stone-cold stare in his eyes tells a different story. He looks dangerously serious, especially as he starts pumping his fingers into me again.
“You said yes.” Pump. “We’re getting married.” He wiggles his fingers deep inside me. “Say it,” he orders, finding a new rhythm.
“But—” I cry.
I can’t marry him. That’s crazy. I also can’t come again, not so soon. But Carter doesn’t agree with either option.
“You can, and you will, Luna.”
That’s the last he says of it, thankfully, because when he gives me one more earth-shattering orgasm, I think I would’ve agreed to anything he said in that moment.
Quack like a duck and call me Spanky!
Deal, Spanky. Shucky-ducky quack-quack!
Paint a landscape with the brush clenched in your asshole!
Sure thing. I’m your girl. I gotchu, no problem!
Marry him . . . fuck my life, I would have said yes.
Afterward, I’m toast. Like call me a croissant because I roll over to my side, curl up, and pass out. Somewhere in my unconsciousness, I know Carter is lying behind me, his arm thrown over me and his fingers tracing gentle circles across my belly beneath the blankets he’s pulled over us.
That’s how I know this is probably all a dream, anyway. Carter Harrington is not petting my round belly after proposing mid-sex. I’ll wake up in the morning alone, the way I always am. I’ll get up alone, eat breakfast alone, and go to the museum and then later, work on Alphena . . . alone.
And that’s okay. I really don’t mind it . . . usually. Even so, I snuggle into Carter’s embrace, enjoying this dream a little longer.
I wake up to near-blinding sunlight streaming in the window. I stretch out like a cat, feeling deliciously rested.
Man, I slept like the dead last night. And those dreams?
I can’t believe I concocted a whole scenario of Carter proposing for real and then fucking me until I said yes.
My brain is such a strange place, so full of strange ideas. It’s a good thing they’re private because I would be so embarrassed to share that one with Samantha. She’d probably try to write a paper on my delusionary imagination.
I laugh to myself, rolling over and rubbing my eyes. I squint, trying to get the clock into focus. I can’t see well enough to tell what time it is, but I can see that there’s one too many numbers . . . four, instead of three, which means . . .