Page 83 of Shattered Trinket
“What are we watchin’?” he asks, his lips pressed against the shell of my ear.
The last thing on my mind is watching a movie now, but I give him one to put on off the top of my head and we relax back into the nest. As the movie starts, I try to pay attention, but the feel of him wrapped around me is distracting and my breathing picks up when his thumb lightly rubs back and forth against my stomach through his shirt. An innocent touch, but to my brain, it’s so much more.
I wiggle in his grasp, inadvertently rubbing against his groin, and I feel him harden against my backside. I suck in a breath when his hold on me tightens, and when I turn my head to look at him behind me, his eyes hold a gleam in them that has me clenching on nothing. A whimper crawls up my throat when his hand glides down my stomach until they reach the hem of his shirt on my thighs, and when he slowly slides his hand underneath and up to the waistband of my shorts, I squirm as he stops.
“Touch me,” I whisper with a desperate plea, wanting his touch so badly that I ache.
A shuddered breath escapes him before he listens, sliding his hand into my shorts. My legs part to give him access, the firsttouch of his fingers against my bare skin making me arch into him with a gasp. He slides a finger down my soaked center, parting my lips and gathering the wetness pooling in my panties before sliding back up to circle my clit. I grip his forearm as his touch ignites a burning need inside of me that has me begging for more, moaning when he applies more pressure.
As he touches me, the need for more grows, and all I can think about is what he told me that day we had a picnic out by the water at Mama Valley’s. How he waited for me, waited for his omega, and more slick pours out of me.
I want to be his first, his last, his everything, and I want it now.
I wanthim.
I want him with every fiber of my being.
All of them.
They’re mine, and the urge to solidify that in any and every way has my instincts running on overdrive. I press my lips against his as best as I can from my position, moaning when his tongue curls against mine.
“Make love to me,” I whimper out against his lips, and he groans.
“There’s no rush, Ducky. I can wait until ye’re ready.”
That right there is exactly why I need him. Because he’s so careful with me, despite his own needs or wants, and he’s willing to keep holding back for however long it takes. But I don’t want to wait anymore. I’ve waited so long already for these feelings to take root in me, and now that they have, I don’t want to hold back anymore. I want these experiences with them.
“I need you,” I whine, his touch pushing me further and further into blissful madness.
His chest vibrates against my back with a purr, relaxing me even more until I’m putty in his hands. Slowly, he leans up and pulls my shirt up. I raise my arms so he can pull it off, liking the way he groans and looks at my bare chest with complete desirewhen he realizes I don’t have a bra on. There’s a flicker of anger when he notices the many scars marring my pale flesh, but he hides it away as he leans down, kissing and licking his way across my breast until his lips close around my nipple, his tongue flicking against it until it’s a tight bud. He slides his finger down to my opening, almost cautiously, like he’s afraid he’ll hurt me.
As he thrusts his finger into me—the heel of his palm grinding against my clit—he sucks on my nipple until I’m shaking in his arms, grinding back against him. I press myself against him, seeking more of him, and in response, he sucks harder, heightening the sensation. I reach back, tugging on the arm of his shirt, and I feel him shift, only letting go of my nipple long enough to pull it over his head. When his bulky, bare chest is pressed against me and his lips are back, wrapped around my nipple, I shiver as the warmth of his skin on mine bleeds into me. I cry out as he curls his finger inside of me, rubbing against a sensitive spot that has me gushing around his hand as my walls clench on the single digit.
“Please,” I breathe out shakily, my body trembling against him, crying out for more, more,more.
“Ye’re sure?” he breathes out against my breast, looking up at me, and I nod, my hand coming up to cup his cheek.
“I need you, Alpha.Wantyou.”
His eyes become hooded as his hand slips free of me and my shorts, and he slides them down my legs painfully slowly until they reach my ankles, and I kick them off. He removes his jeans while planting kisses all along my chest and sides, and when I feel him press his bare hips against me, I moan when I feel his warm, hard length resting against the crevice of my butt.
He releases a shaky breath as he moves his hand down, gripping himself in his hand and moving until his crown is slipping between my slick lips, bumping against my alreadysensitive clit. As he rubs himself against me, I pull his face to mine, kissing him like he’s the air I need to breathe.
His movements are a little awkward and sloppy at first, but I don’t care. When he notches himself at my opening, lightly thrusting his hips until he slips inside, I suck in a breath at the slight sting as he stretches me around his girth while his hands roam.
A gasp escapes me as he slowly presses into me while planting kisses along my neck and shoulder. His arm is banded around my chest, his hand cupping my bare breast tenderly as his thumb rubs back and forth against my nipple. His other hand is between my legs, stroking the swollen nub between my lips to help me relax as he works himself inside of me carefully. We moan simultaneously when he finally bottoms out and I’m seated fully against him, pressed against his chest so tightly that I can feel his heart thundering against my back.
He shifts, turning over and sitting up until he’s resting on his knees and my legs are on either side of him as I’m sitting in his lap backwards. The new position has him slipping deeper inside of me, and I squirm in his hold at the intense feeling.
“So perfect. Exquisite.Mine,” Zeke whispers in my ear as he slowly thrusts into me, bringing tears to my eyes.
“Zeke,” I whimper, turning my face to reach his again, searching for his lips.
I’m gripping the back of his head as his lips press against mine with a tender softness, and as his tongue glides along the seam of my lips, I willingly grant him access. With every tender kiss, he moves slowly and deliberately beneath me, creating a gentle rhythm that seems to heighten everything. Despite his fumbling in the beginning, this is everything to me.
I’ve never been touched like this,lovedlike this, and I can’t help but revel in how absolutely perfect this entire moment is.
He keeps a leisurely pace, and despite how out of breath I feel, I don’t urge him to go faster. I’m determined to extend this experience for as long as humanly possible, craving this meaningful connection with him more than anything else. It feels like hours pass, just the two of us up in the nest, the movie we were supposed to be watching long forgotten.