Page 94 of Naughty November
“What’s made you remember that?”
“You: writing on my skin and teasing my hole without missing a beat.”
He chuckles against my lips, a rumble that vibrates through me. I gasp, but he swallows the sound with a kiss.
“I—I could never do it.” I sigh as he pushes his finger inside me.
“You have other talents.”
He kisses me as he warms me up, his lips and tongue as attentive as the finger inside me. I turn to mush beneath and around him. I’m so relaxed I’m sure I’d float off the bed if I wasn’t tied to it.
“Devin,” I whisper whenever he gives me a chance to.
Each utterance of his name forms a link in an unbreakable chain that runs from my heart to his. Why did I ever think I could forget this man? That I could move on and be happy with someone else? My heart has always belonged to him, and it always will.
“Are you ready for me?” His husky voice sends a thrill through me.
“Yes.”
He gloves up his cock and slicks it with plenty of lube. He holds my hip with one hand and the root of his cock with the other. Playfully, he rubs the head of his cock around my hole. Is he tracing the path of the words he wrote there? What was it? I tug my brows together as I try to remember.
“Fuck me,” he says.
Yes, that was it.
He runs his fingers over ‘make love to me’ on the inside of my left thigh, pauses, and stares into my eyes. The warm lighting brings out the flecks of honey and amber in his eyes. Love pours from them, and I tremble under the weight of it. He holds my hip again and eases inside me. Slowly. Allowing my body to accommodate and squeeze around him.
“Oh, fuck, Jools, you feel so good.” He claims my lips before I have a chance to respond.
He rolls his hips. This is tender and beautiful, so different from our frantic fucking in Amsterdam, which was desperate and raw. Two men clinging to each other as if it would be the last time. But this feels like the first time, a promise of more to come. I can’t run my fingers through his hair or rake my nails over his back. I can’t do anything but lie, feel, and be loved.
He leans on one hand as he makes love to me and uses the other to trace hearts on my skin, making it tingle and buzz in short, heady bursts, which enhances my pleasure. How can he multitask like that, when I’m struggling to think a coherent thought?
“So beautiful,” he whispers.
“So are you.”
He is the most stunning man I’ve ever known, radiant inside and out.
He quickens his pace and puts his hand on my cock, stroking,grunting, grinding into me. My balls are heavy. Butterflies flit to and fro in my groin. I’m close. So close. My lips move soundlessly. I give in to the pleasure. Let my eyelids flutter shut and allow everything but him and me to drift away. It’s just the two of us floating. His hand on me, his cock in me, his breath on my skin, his lips on mine. I’m lost in him, so fucking lost I should be afraid, but I’m not. I could never be afraid with him.
I gasp and open my eyes as my orgasm spills out of me. I lock gazes with him, drowning in the brown warmth of his eyes. I’m home. Oh, God, I’m home.
He thrusts into me hard a few times before pressing his face against my shoulder. His body shudders, and he comes inside me. He trembles and breathes hard, and then relaxes, blanketing me and wrapping his arms around me.
“Oh, Jools.” He presses kiss after kiss to my hot, sweaty skin.
Shaking and still inside me, he pushes up, grabs the orange pen and writes four letters on my chest. Has he found a spare patch of skin?
“What does it say?”
“Stay.”
Devin eases out of me and removes the restrains. He rubs lotion onto each wrist and ankle in turn, taking good care of me, just as he promised. He covers me in a snuggly blanket, and offers me something to eat and drink. Once I’ve nibbled on a biscuit, we cuddle. Devin trails his fingertip up and down my spine, while I drift in and out of sleep.
“May I?” His words drag me out of slumber.
How much time has passed? Do I even care?