Page 94 of Proof Of Life
I can’t take it. I need him inside of me now. Right fucking now. I need to feel him inside of me like he’s a part of me. One body. One life. Sitting up slightly, I reach under his arms and pull him up my body, bringing his mouth flush with mine, and press my lips against his, delving deep inside for a taste of him.
He moans into the kiss, sounding as hungry and needy as I feel, grinding his dick against mine as I suck on his tongue. Grabbing for the bottle of lube lying on the mattress beside us, he squeezes some into his palm and, reaching down between our bodies, he slicks his shaft. It slides through my crease easily, tickling in the most erotic way as it glides over my hole. I’m clenching now, wishing he would just fill me already and put me out of my misery.
“Gonna slide inside of you, just like this. Wrap your legs around my waist.”
Brandt moves his body like he's fucking me, thrusting between my cheeks. He stares into my eyes and the connection is too much. I close my eyes to hide from him, to focus on how good he feels, but he isn't having it.
“Uh-uh. Open your eyes and look at me.” He pushes against my entrance, and I can already feel the burn. “I want to see your face when I push inside you.”
His swollen crown pops past my tight rim and I gasp, arching my back.
“You feel that?” Licking my lips, I nod. “So fucking tight. God…you feel so good,” he pants, burying himself deep. “I could lose myself in your body.”
He hisses as he pulls back out. My hole is on fire because he didn't prep me, but I think he did that on purpose. And I love it, that initial sting, that bite of pain that stays with me long after he finishes inside of me.
He thrusts back in and stills as my body clenches around him, adjusting to his invasion. As long as I live, I will never get enough of this feeling, when he first enters me, when he’s stretching me and filling me, claiming me. Every time feels like the first time, and yet, it feels as if we’ve been doing this for lifetimes.
Slowly, he moves in and out of my channel, with long, deep thrusts that open me up and make me shake as I cling to him and beg for more.
“Have you ever made love before?”
This is a hell of a fucking time to ask me a question like that.
“Never.”
“This belongs to us.” He suckles my lips, my tongue, and I chase his mouth for another kiss. “This is ours. Making love to each other.”
“Kiss me,” I whisper, desperate for contact. Wanting to be connected at every point of our bodies.
I glance between us with hooded eyes, and the longing in me increases tenfold. The way he moves. His body is beyond sexy. It’s almost beautiful. The deep scars, the shadows that fall between the ridges of his toned muscles. His colorful tattoos. Brandt is a work of art.
He leans down to suck on my throat, in the hollow where I have my trachea scar, making my cock throb between us. It lies on my stomach, heavy and dripping, begging for attention. I reach for it and pump into my fist slowly, in sync with his thrusts. Fire builds in my belly and spreads through my limbs, making my skin flush all over.
“I’m close,” I hiss, hoping I can hold off long enough for him to come with me.
I dig my fingers into the muscle of his back and feel the divots and ragged flesh of his shrapnel wounds—wounds he sustained while saving my life. We’re two souls that were always destined to be mates, beautifully broken and carefully mended. We belong to each other. I am the keeper of his body and his heart, and he is the protector of mine. To him, my imperfections are perfect. To me, he has no imperfections. He was always perfect.
“Say it. Tell me.”
He thrusts deep, making me cry out, “I love you.”
“Come with me.”
As my orgasm rushes forth, my heart splits wide open, my body spilling tears and cum and sweat.
I have bled for him.
I would give my life for his.
And I will be vulnerable for him. To him.
He is everything and together we have forever.
With a roar, he finishes inside my ass, spilling his load deep within me, and collapses on my chest in a sweaty heap.
Sometime later, he finally slips free of my body, and I feel the warmth of his seed trickle down my thighs. Brandt rests his head on my shortened limb. I run my fingers through his hair and he rubs his thumb over the skin of my inner thigh, spreading the wet mess in circles. We don’t need to say a word—the silence is enough. So is the expression on his face. It screams I love you, I’m happy.
I don’t need to tell him I love him, or remind him that we’re forever. The look on his face says it all. I return the look before closing my eyes, letting my head fall back against the pillow in contented bliss, and I breathe a sigh of satisfaction and relief.