Chapter 41
Carla
I cried out when he entered me, not with surprise or even shock, but unbidden desire. I had wanted this so badly, since long before I’d left Siesta Key. Hand holding with mom and care giving with Roy had left me little time in the sleep department, to say nothing of the “sleeping with Kellan” department.
We’d had such a healthy and robust sex life in South Beach, I hadn’t realized how much I missed it—missed him—until I saw him there, tall, lean and sexy in a loosely tied bathrobe, the morning sun caressing his chiseled features.
Now I felt every inch of him, thick and throbbing as it slid deep inside me. We’d never fucked like this before—hard and fast and fierce—but fucking was what it was, and I’d never felt so satisfied so quickly.
He’d made short work of my desire with his expert tongue and thick, tender lips, and now I returned the favor. I clung to every inch of his glorious cock as it slid in to the hilt, his pelvis beating against mine as I curled myself to the very edge of the counter, angling my hips to invite him even deeper inside.
When at last he could go no further, he clung to my thighs and thrust, gently, grinding pelvis to pelvis, mound to mound, fur to fur, the motion so subtle and intense I came once more—suddenly coating his flat belly with my feminine lust.
He seemed to revel in my helplessness, kissing me breathlessly as he began to thrust and grind and pivot and fuck me senseless. My bare ass, damp with lust, squeaked and squelched on the tile counter, the cabinets behind my head clattered and creaked, our fuck-juices blended together as he thrust in and out as if he never had before—and never would again.
I gasped and came and cried out and climaxed and squealed and orgasmed and lost track of time. I sweat liberally and cursed despicably and ground myself sore as I met his every thrust with one of my own. Our bodies rocked and slapped and bumped and squeaked until at last, he neared his own thrilling orgasm.
Pinning me in place, his hands on both thighs, sealing my lips with his so I could only breathe—and barely at that—through my flared nostrils, he fucked and pumped and thrust and fucked some more. He fucked until we were raw, wet, dripping, red, pink, sore and then fucked some more, until I cried out inside his mouth and he bit down slightly and came, hard and fast and deep—deep inside me.
I felt every splash and drip, every throb and splutter as we sagged against one another, boneless, wet and sticky and panting and raw as at last our lips, sticky with drool and desire, drifted away from one another’s.
He stayed there, wedged deep inside my poor, pleasured pussy, until we both felt him shrink and soften and he slid himself out and I felt the last of his come, sticky and thin on my trembling thigh.
He lifted me then, trembling and sore, carrying me all the way to the bed and turned to retrieve our coffee from the kitchen. He returned, naked and splendid, a cup in each hand as he sank next to me on the bed. I lay, naked and shameless, on top of his sheets as he sat, glorious and gleaming, next to my hip.
“Hey,” I said, gratefully accepting the steaming mug he offered. “I was supposed to bring you breakfast in bed.”
He chuckled, licking his thick, glossy lips. “Too late, Carla,” he murmured. “I already ate.”
He winked above his coffee cup, slurping the fresh roasted caffeine the way he had my slick and swollen pussy only minutes earlier. I blushed and followed suit, until both cups were half empty and my heart rate was somewhat back to normal.
“What’s got into you?” I asked, putting my mug on the nightstand and reclining against the headboard as he watched my every move, the desire still naked and hungry in his eyes.
“I missed you, that’s all,” he croaked, and I wasn’t sure if his voice was merely hoarse with desire, or something…more.
“Me too,” I confessed, watching him finish his coffee and put his cup next to mine. “I didn’t realize how connected we were until that connection was broken.”
He nodded eagerly, as if he was reading my mind. “You… feel the same way?” I asked, hesitantly, as if his lusty tongue hadn’t already convinced me on top of the now sticky kitchen counter.
“Absolutely,” he said, nodding emphatically and inching closer until he could put a hand on either side of my waist. “I never thought I’d care for someone as much as I care about you, Carla. I mean, really care. Deep down inside. I don’t want to scare you, babe, but… it feels like love.”
I nodded, as his lips met mine. “I’m not scared at all, Kellan,” I breathed against his lips. “I’ve loved you ever since I met you. I just… had to go away to realize it.”
He chuckled, his lips leaving mine to nuzzle my left ear. “Don’t do that again,” he murmured, miraculously jump starting my libido as I shivered against him. “Don’t ever leave home again.”
I pushed him away, almost playfully. “Home?” I asked, even as he continued to lean back in for another kiss. “Here? In… Siesta Key?”
He merely nodded, kissing me again as I sank beneath his swollen desire. “I like it here,” he murmured, dragging me down in the soft white sheets, the morning sun spilling through half-open blinds. “I want… I want to stay, for a while.”
“Yeah?” I gasped as he laid me flat and knelt between my legs, breathlessly beautiful even as he hardened before my very eyes. “I… I’d love that, Kellan.”
“Good,” he chuckled, sinking onto his side and gently running his long, thick fingers across my belly. “Because the way I see it, you really have no choice.”
“You’re right,” I murmured, my lips wide open, my eyes half-shut. “I’m putty beneath your hands, baby.”
It was more than that, of course. I wanted to stay, to be with my family, to set Mom on the right track, to nurse Roy back to health. But I didn’t want to do it alone. Once upon a time, before Kellan, I might have. But now? Now I wanted him, I needed him, and he seemed to want—and need—me as well.
“Look at what you do to me,” he sighed as we both admired his stiffening cock, already glossy with desire and thick, wet heat. “I’ve never felt like this before.”
He rose up and buried my lips with his, as I waited, flat on my back and spread eagled, for him to mount and fuck me the way he had on the kitchen counter.
Suddenly, restlessly, eagerly, I wanted only to fuck and be fucked, to love and be loved, to celebrate, carnally, the lust and, of course, the love I felt for this beautiful man. There would be time for work, and play, for joy and laughter, for tears and pain, for suffering and sadness, for rebirth and discovery. But for now, all I wanted was my back in the sheets, my ass pressed deep into the mattress, and my hands out at my sides, holding onto the edge of the bed for dear life as Kellan pleasured me, thrusting and pumping again and again.
Fortunately, he was more than up for the challenge—in more ways than one!