Page 78 of Bring me Back
He moved, bringing his hips back and forward. “When it comes to you, I am.”
I threw my head back, and he took the opportunity to lick between my breasts. Over and over again, he pounded on me, careful and careless at the same time. I wiggled under him, heat curled down my spine every time he thrusted deep. He moved me like a raggedy doll, his hands biting into my thighs, he turned my hips the way it fitted him better. He bit me, I ached, and he soothed with his tongue.
He took my words, my moans, and my trust. I held on to his strong shoulder. I cried his name, and he drove his dick all the way to the hilt.
He swallowed my pleas; I shuddered under him and he thrusted with abandon. Once, twice, and then he was coming. Jaw set, muscles taut. Never in a thousand years would I forget the way he looked when he came on top of me.
“Jesus Christ, Cricket.”
My laugh was hollow. It felt odd coming out of my throat. I never had overused my voice before. “So, I did well?”
He pulled from me, lying on my side but keeping a possessive hand over my stomach. “You’re fantastic.”
I turned to him, my beaming smile so big it was a little pathetic. But Dan didn’t seem to think so, his smile matched mine. His hair plastered with sweat over his forehead, his breathing labored.
And suddenly, I was home.
My legs dangled on the edge of the most beautiful table I’d ever seen. It was sacrilege to sit on top of it, but it was Dan who hoisted me up and then put a plate of lasagna in my hands. I ate happily, dressed only in his signature plaid shirt, my hair tousled and cheeks rosy.
The man himself watched me eat, leaning over the counter in a low-hung pajama and a silly grin on his lips.
“You’re looking at me like when you were trying to make me talk.”
“I’ll never stop trying.”
I lifted a shoulder and took a bite. He watched me eating, which was a little unnerving, but soon I got lost in the flavor. The lasagna was amazing. I moaned when the flavors exploded in my tongue.
“Is this one of the two things you know how to cook?” I pointed to the plate with my fork.
Dan nodded slowly. “My mother’s recipe. Abby is trying to get her clutches on it since high school.”
I laughed. “Your mom won’t share? Not even with her daughter-in-law?”
“I’m told it’s a secret sauce from her Italian side. The risotto is also amazing.”
“I gather is the other thing you know how to make?”
“You know what I am feeding you next.” He winked.
“I don’t mind the rotation. I could eat this forever.” I took another forkful. “I wished I had recipes from my mother.”
“Preston has nothing?” He wanted to know.
I shook my head. “Mom was Filipino. I remember she cooked a few traditional dishes when I was little, but my dad never knew how to make them. That part of me got lost.”
Dan crossed his arms over his chest. “How about we collect a few recipes online? You can check for something you remember.”
“Yeah…” I frowned, wondering why I never thought of it.
“You said it, Cricket. That’s part of you. It doesn’t need to be lost. It’s hard for Preston to celebrate a culture that isn’t his, but it’s yours. We can make new traditions.”
I smiled. “Can Dad be part of it?”
He walked toward me, shaking his head. I put my plate to the side. When he reached me, his palms covered my tights and up, leaving me exposed.
“Well, I had a different kind of dinner in mind. But I guess I can reschedule it for now if you insist,” he told me. “Lean back, Hallie.”
I did what I was told. Leaning back, he placed my knees apart, bringing my ass to the edge of the table. His breath fanned over my leg, nipped the inside of my knee. My head tipped back, taking a breath at the same time he licked me long and wet, giving a swirl when he reached my clit. My leg jerked, and he held me still.