After twenty-two years of living in a house filled with an overabundance of testosterone, I’d loved being on my own. Had loved buying useless throw pillows simply because they were pretty, painting my walls pink, and walking around in only my bra and panties if I wanted to. For two years, I’d reveled in my own space. Had blossomed in it.
And now, after mere hours with John, my perfect little cottage somehow felt incomplete. Maybe because he seemed to fit so seamlessly here. While, yes, he made the small-under-normal-circumstances house feel downright tiny, he’d looked so at home here with me. Especially in my bed.
God, my bed. And the wall. And…everything. The way he’d taken charge, owned my body as if he’d been the sole giver of my pleasure for as long as I’d been alive… It still made my knees weak, just remembering what he’d done to me. I’d had my fair share of dirty fantasies, and over the past couple years, they’d all starred him. Not a single one of those perfect dreams had compared to reality.
But even with the perfection that afternoon had held, I couldn’t help worry from weighing me down. Funny how that happened when I had so much time to sit and do nothing but stew. Each second that ticked by on the clock was like a bullhorn. John had been gone for several hours—much longer than I’d anticipated. It wasn’t like I could call him and ask why he was so late—not when he was no doubt surrounded by people he may not want to know about us yet.
The worry I tried not to give voice to, however, was if he wasn’t at work, but instead had simply changed his mind about me…about us…about what we were doing. It’d all happened so fast I still had a hard time believing it was real. Especially when he wasn’t here. When his arms weren’t around me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. Didn’t have his whispered words in my ear, so dirty and lovely and full of filthy promises. Didn’t have—
A sharp knock sounded against my front door before it opened, John breezing through the doorway as if he owned the place, tossing his keys and a couple bags on the side table. He searched the room, his eyes heating as soon as his gaze landed on me. In three seconds, with a cursory scan of my body, he might as well have flipped my on switch. My nipples tightened, goose bumps breaking out over my skin, the throb starting between my legs…
“You always leave your door unlocked?”
“Huh?” I shook my head, trying to make sense of what he said. My body had overrun my mind, short-circuiting everything that wasn’t a direct live wire to my pussy, and he was thinking about locks?
“I know you think this place is all sunshine and rainbows, Em, but I'm really going to need you to lock your doors. Especially when I'm not here.”
I frowned, my brows drawing down even as my stomach fluttered over his concern. “How about a hello before you start with the orders?”
His long legs ate up the distance between us until he stood in front of me and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the couch cushions on either side of me. “Sorry. I worry about you. Hi, baby.”
“Hi,” I breathed, barely able to think with him so close, with his words fanning across my mouth. Aching to feel his lips pressed against mine. I glanced down at them, mine parting in response.
John’s tongue peeked out, licking a soft trail along his bottom lip, before his mouth curved up in the corner. “I can see how much you want me to kiss you, sweet girl. How bad you want me to slide my tongue against yours and swallow all your little moans.”
I did. I really, really did. “Then why don’t you?”
He reached up, running his thumb over my bottom lip, the soft touch leaving me panting. “Because if I kiss you, I won’t stop at your mouth.”
Yes, please, and thank you. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me…”
With a soft chuckle, he straightened to his full height, then crossed back to the side table to grab a paper bag with handles. “If I don’t stop at your mouth, that means it’s going to be hours and half a dozen orgasms before we come up for air. That omelet wasn’t enough nourishment to give you the strength to deal with what I’m planning. I know it’s late, but I picked up an order of eggplant parmesan from Nonno Pino’s for you.”
Was it possible to actually swoon your face off? I had half a mind to reach up and feel if all my features were still on mine, because John had brought his A game. Not only did he want to make sure I was nourished—for all the activities he’d apparently planned to engage in with me—but he’d also picked up my absolute favorite meal in the whole world.
“You didn’t need to do that.” I followed him into the small kitchen, trying not to smile as he plated part of the entree for me. “I’m not even hungry.” My stomach belied my words, the traitorous organ rumbling even as the words came out of my mouth.
He raised an eyebrow. “Wanna try a different answer?”
“Okay, so I’m a little hungry. But I don’t want to eat without you.” I rested my hand on his forearm, needing to touch him, needing to be close to him. “Did you get something? You must be starving after working all night.”
“I figured you’d be my dinner, sweet girl.”
A flush worked its way through my entire body, all the fun parts lighting up with the memory of him waking me from my nap with his mouth on me. Lighting up and short-circuiting my brain, making my words come out jumbled. “Oh, well—but what… You can’t just—”
“Eat.” He slid the plate in front of me, then placed his hands against the counter on either side of me, blocking me in as he brushed a kiss across my neck. As he brought his body right up against mine. His very large, very hard body. One exceptionally hard part pressed against my ass, and I couldn’t stop myself from pushing back against it. Desperate to finally feel it in my hands. In my body.
John groaned low in his throat then gripped my hip, stilling my movements. “I’m going to fuck you right here if you keep doing that, and while I’m sure you’d like it, I’d feel like an animal for taking you like that your first time. Now eat your food and stop worrying about me. I’m just happy to be home with you.”
How he could turn me on so much with his presence, while at the same time making me melt with his words, I had no idea. But he was damn good at it.
I leaned back against his chest, tilting my head to stare up at him. “That’s sweet.” Pressing up on my tiptoes, I placed a kiss on his jaw, pleased when he helped me reach my destination by leaning down. “But you can’t survive on air, John.”
I grabbed a plate from the cupboard, then dished up the rest of my meal for him. Nonno Pino’s portions were ridiculous, and under normal circumstances, a single dinner could stretch for most of the week for me. Hopefully, the extras would be enough to satiate him.
John rested his chin on my shoulder, dropping a hand to my leg as he allowed his fingers to roam up my inner thigh. Not stopping until they toyed with the stretchy material of my sleep shorts. “I never said anything about eating air.”
If he kept this up, I’d go up in flames. Just spontaneously combust right there in my kitchen. What the hell was he doing to me?
“Well, you can’t survive on that either. Come and sit with me.” I grabbed our plates and pushed back into John’s chest, smiling when he huffed but stepped away and pulled out the chair at my small dining table for me. “Tell me about your night. How’d it go at work?”
He blew out an exhausted sigh as he settled into the seat next to mine. “Nothing exploded, and no one got hurt. The street’s going to be blocked for a few days while they fill in and repave, but everything should be back to normal soon enough.”
“Thank God. I hoped it hadn’t escalated too much, but I got worried with how long you were gone.” I pierced a bite with my fork, sliding it between my lips and moaning at the taste. “This is so good. I’ve been craving it all week. Did you know this was my favorite?”
He gripped the table, his entire body stiff. Like he was ready to go off. Like he was waiting for the green light from me to pounce. “I did,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “And if it makes you moan like that, I’ll buy it for you every night.”
That wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned being with me every night, but it’d always been in regards to the baby. What about me—us? Was there an us, or was he doing this to be a family man? I knew what I’d like…what I desperately wanted. But did he? “You planning to be here every night?”
“That’s up to you.” He took another bite, chewing before he continued. “We can stay here or at my apartment. Hell, we can find a new place together. Whatever you want.”
A new place? Together? That meant permanence. Which I obviously should’ve gotten by his willingness to have a baby with me, but the baby was still just an idea at this point. Something intangible for the time being. Living together could happen anytime…today. “You…wanna live together?”
He frowned. “You’re going to be pregnant with my baby. What kind of man would I be if I wasn’t there to support you?” With a shake of his head, he waved his hand. “We can figure out the details later, but when I say I’m in this…I mean it. Wholly and completely.”
“Support me when I’m pregnant, yes. But I’m not yet. It might take months.”
“Plenty of time for practicing.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop my stomach from fluttering at the thought of practicing. Every part of me south of my brain wanted me to shut up and hop on, but I needed to make sure we were on the same page. I needed clarification. “I’m not talking about sex, John. I’m talking about living together and when you see that happening.”
He’d scooped up the last bite of his dinner, but he paused with his fork in midair, his eyes set on mine. Then, very carefully, he placed the utensil on his plate and turned to me, giving me all of his attention. “I’ve written you at least a thousand letters and emails. I’ve read about your dreams, your life, your successes, and your failures. I’ve supported you through all of that even when I wasn’t here, and you did the same for me. You know what I want, you know what I like, and you know how much family means to me.” He turned in his chair and braced his elbows on his knees, bringing his face closer to mine. “We’re a family, with or without a baby. I’ve spent the past year wishing I could get beyond my desire for you, but I can’t, and I’m not going to try anymore. So if you want to waste time being apart so you can reach some sort of decision about me, I’ll give you that. It took me long enough to see you for who you are to me. But, if you’re ready? If you know how much we can mean to one another, then why wait?”
Wait? I didn’t want to wait—hadn’t wanted to wait. I’d been sure about him for a long damn time. I hadn’t realized this want went both ways—we’d just dealt with it differently.
I set my fork down. Licked my lips as I tried not to stare at his. “So what you're saying is you want to start now.”
A single, short nod. “Now.”
I tried to bite back my smile, but I wasn’t quite successful. Lifting my chin in the direction of the duffel bag he’d dropped on the side table, I asked, “Can I assume that black bag over there is because you’re planning to stay the night?”
“I’m a Marine, baby—I come prepared. That bag is good for a night or a week. Whatever makes you happy.”
God, the thought of John here with me for a week straight…his body moving over mine, under mine, inside mine… His fingers and mouth and cock all working to bring me pleasure? “We could do a lot of…practicing in a week.”
His eyes flared, his stare growing heated. “Are you finished with your dinner?”
Who could think about food? “Yes.”
“Good.” He pushed back from the table, then scooped me up from my seat and carried me straight to the bedroom. “It’s time to stop talking about practicing. I’m a doer, baby. It’s time to do.”
Excitement and nerves swirled in my stomach as a shudder racked my body. I was already turned on and ready to go, my panties wet and my nipples hard points against the front of my tank top. But somehow, even after only our couple of encounters, I knew John wouldn’t rush things.
No, instead he placed me on the bed, stripped off my clothes, and rested his eyes on me, intent clear. Before I could even beg that he remove some of his clothes, that I could strip him like he’d done to me, he settled on top of me, inhaling my gasp between his lips when he ground his denim-covered erection against me.
“The things I want to do to you could get me arrested, but I’m going to do them all. And you’re going to love every fucking second of it.”
Of that, I had no doubt.
I moaned as he kissed me, as he slid his tongue against mine, so hungry for anything he gave me. So hungry for everything. “John…”
He hummed against my skin, brushing his lips over the corner of my mouth, my jaw, my neck, then flicked his tongue against my collarbone.
I couldn’t do anything but arch against him, begging him without words to go lower. So much lower. But first… “I want to feel you. Let me feel you, please. Let me see.”
“Greedy girl. How can I say no when you let me taste your sweetness?”
With one last kiss brushed over my skin, he pushed off me and stood, then reached back to yank off his shirt with little fanfare. My God, the man was a masterpiece of male perfection—all thick arms and broad shoulders and defined muscles, the barest sprinkling of hair covering his chest. I needed to feel the coarseness against my fingers, against my lips.
Unable to wait another second, I slipped off the bed to stand in front of him, my hands going to his chest. Solid muscle under heated flesh, the fast thump-thump of his heartbeat rapping against my fingertips telling me exactly how much this affected him. I brushed my fingers across his thick pecs, circling his flat nipples and eliciting a rumble from deep in his chest, before trailing them down over the hills and valleys of his abs to the defined cut of his hips.
I’d touched John before, of course. Had hugged him, rested my hand on his shoulder or forearm, had even felt his thick fingers work inside my body. But I’d never touched him like this. With purpose. With intent. And I didn’t want to stop at his chest.
“Take me out, sweet girl. I’m yours to explore, and I’ve been dying to feel your fingers on my cock.”
I swallowed down my nerves, wanting what he’d suggested with a desperation I hadn’t been sure I could possess. Fingers shaking, I fumbled with the fastening of his jeans, popping the button before dragging the zipper past the massive bulge hidden behind denim. The thick root of his cock appeared as his jeans parted before his erection sprang free, thick and flushed and leaking at the tip. He’d gone commando. And sweet Lord, the man was packing. Though, based on every other part of him, that wasn’t exactly a surprise. He put my one and only vibrator to shame. Made me worry how the hell we were going to fit together, which I knew was silly. Didn’t make it any less overwhelming, though.
I traced a single finger down his length, brushing my thumb over the moisture gathered at the tip. Wrapped my fingers around his girth—or tried to. All the while I stared, transfixed by him, my lip caught between my teeth. Nerves getting the better of me. Nothing like going straight for the gold my first time.
“I’m going to make it good for you, baby. Gonna get you so sloppy wet, that beast will slide right inside. But first, I have work to do.”
With efficient movements, he stripped off the rest of his clothes, then pushed me back on the bed, situating me so my legs hung off the side. I braced myself on my elbows, anxious to see what came next. Anxious to see how he’d fulfill his promise.
He dropped to his knees, his wide shoulders holding my legs apart, and then, as if that weren’t enough to open me to him, he spread me with his thumbs, baring me completely. I’d always thought I’d be shy about this act, feel self-conscious or worried or awkward. But with the way John looked at me, hunger clearly written over every inch of his face, how could I feel anything but wanted? But desired? But craved?
“Been dreaming about eating this sweet pussy again all night. You’ve got me addicted to you already. Got me addicted to your taste and your little moans as you come on my tongue. Need to feel it again.” He blew a sharp gust of air straight against my already swollen clit, causing my head to drop back between my shoulders at the same time I lifted my hips from the bed, seeking his mouth. His tongue. But this was John’s show, and he proved it by bracing his hands on my hips, his thumbs still spreading my lips apart, holding me in place for his torture.
“Please, John. Please, please, please.”
“Please what? Tell me what you want.”
I blushed, a thousand thoughts running through my head. But I couldn’t say them. Couldn’t put them to words like he could. He could probably bring me to orgasm just from his dirty talk, but if I tried that, I’d no doubt sound like a star in a low-budget porno.
“Please what, baby?”
“Please…use your mouth.”
“I am.” Again, he blew against me, making me throb in want.
Groaning, I tried to lift my hips again to no avail. He’d gotten me on a damn technicality. “Your tongue. Use your tongue.”
I sagged with relief when he lowered his head, brought his mouth closer to me. Then nearly cried when he flicked his tongue nowhere near my clit. Nowhere near where I wanted him. Where I needed him. He licked a path up one side of the crease where my leg met my body, then switched to the other. Frustrated, I reached down and gripped his hair, trying to guide him toward my clit.
“I’m going to need to hear the words from you, baby. I’ll do anything you tell me to, but you’d better be damned specific.”
“Oh my God, lick my clit. Please, John, please.”
With a groan, he did exactly that, sucking me straight into his mouth before flicking his tongue over me. The direct contact after so much teasing had me seeing stars from the first brush of his lips against my clit. Had me arching off the bed with a scream before he’d even gotten started.
“That’s one.”
As I lay there panting, trying to remember how to breathe, he swirled his tongue all over my pussy, careful to avoid my oversensitive clit. Then he added his fingers, those thick digits slipping inside me, one after another after another until he’d stretched me so full, I thought I’d die.
“You’re going to strangle my cock in this little pussy, aren’t you? So soft and wet, but tight. I’ll never want to leave it. Never want to stop fucking you once I get inside. Gonna fill this pussy up with my cock until you drain me dry—until we’ve got a baby planted in that belly.”
His fingers were no match for what hung long and thick between his legs, and I ached for that. Ached to feel him stretching me. Ached to feel him lying on top of me as he thrust inside. As he filled me with his seed.
The thought of him losing his mind inside me sent me over the edge again, John’s fingers pressing deep and his tongue once again swirling around my clit. When the last pulse echoed through my body, I collapsed against the bed, my fingers releasing their hold on his hair, hands falling to my sides. Boneless. Sated.
“Catch your breath, baby. We’re only getting started.”