Miranda

Seven years away from him.  Seven years without his smile, his touch, his laughter.  Seven years of misunderstandings and hurt. Not one second of those seven years was between us now.  Not after I took in his scars and his bruises.

I needed to mark him, make him mine. It was a raw, animalistic need that didn’t belong here, with us coming from such a traumatic and, in his case, painful day, but I couldn’t push it down.  I needed him in any way I could get him.  The kiss was only a taste.  I needed it all. 

As I stripped him bare, watching the lust build in his eyes, I knew what I needed, what we both needed. No working up to it, no wooing, no talking.  I needed him inside me, but his pain was not worth my desires to have him stretching my needy pussy. That didn’t make my need less or, from the look of the tenting in his pants, his either. 

I worked his pants, needing to taste him, needing to make him come and swallow his offering.  As his cock popped free of his pants and I practically started to drool, I could no longer control myself and I sucked him down in one motion.

He was every bit as responsive as I remembered.  He always commented on how I was the responsive one, but I knew it was him.  One lick and he was mine.  I still remembered the look on his face the first time I swallowed him down.  He was a gifted man, but it was as if my mouth was made for him, accommodating him our very first time together, my very first time ever.  It was nice to see that things hadn’t changed.

I wanted to drag this out, savor the moment, but his balls were already tightening up on only my third pass.  This would be short and hard.  The knowledge that I could do that to him was heady and I intensified my movements.  Swallowing, sucking, licking and every once in a while, nipping him until he was exploding down my throat as he shouted my name. We would probably have the front desk calling to tell us to pipe down.  So very worth it.

I licked him clean, enjoying the taste of him before allowing his deflating cock to pop free.  More than anything I wanted to climb up beside him and snuggle the crap out of him, but the ugly bruising that seemed to increase by the moment had me simply climbing beside him and twining our fingers together.  This would have to do until he healed a bit or at least had some x-rays to determine if any of his ribs were broken.

“That was—” He panted, all adorable like, as he grasped for the words to describe it.

“It was,” I agreed.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” He feigned exasperation.  It was nice how quickly we could fall back into this.  Things weren’t going to be perfect, but nearly losing him after finding him again sure put shit in perspective fast.

“Something along the line of exceptional, I would imagine.”

“It was that, but I was going to say—” he rolled over on his side, not hiding his pain as well as he thought he was “–everything.”

“You always were a sweet talker.”

“If by always you mean never, then yes I was.” He fell down on his back again, the pain probably worse than even I imagined and I was imagining it pretty stinking bad.  “Please come closer.  I know you are trying to not hurt me but I need to feel you.  All of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

I carefully scootched in closer, resting my head in the crux of his arm, looking up at his face. He grabbed my thigh, pulling it over his, my pussy brushing against his muscles inadvertently, embarrassing the tar outta me.  I was drenched for him and the wet spot I left on his thigh from that small touch was visual proof.

“Goodness woman, you are ready for me, aren’t you?”

“I’m good,” I said, as if the need wasn’t pulsating through me.  He was hurt.  I could take care of myself later.  If this really was the new start I believed it to be, there would be many times for him to take care of me later.

“Liar.” He called my bullshit.  Fair enough, since our first relationship’s demise was caused by half-truths and out and out lies.

“You’re hurt.”

“I can make it through,” he reassured, but I didn’t want to chance it.   “Trust me.” Damn bastard broke out the puppy dog eyes. I never could turn those down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” I closed my eyes, knowing that if I watched his face even a second longer I was going to cave. 

“Then climb aboard.”

I wanted to protest. He needed more time to recover. But I looked down and saw his erection already growing. Damn, he still had good recovery time.

“I seem to be doing a lot of the work here,” I sassed.  He and I both knew I liked to be on top, to make him crumble beneath me.  Not all of the time. Some of the time I liked to be at his mercy.  Although bondage was going to be off the table after today’s misadventure.

“I’ve been keeping a list of owe ya ones, so all is good.”

I’d all but forgotten about our silly owe ya one lists. It started out as an I owe ya a cola, after he drank my last one, and by the time we broke up the lists included everything from doing laundry to anal fun.  We were a weird couple.  Or are a weird couple.  I still hadn’t pieced it all together, but for now I was happy at all of the possibilities that lay before us.

“Oh really, and what is on the list so far?” Please be your tongue, I sent out a silent plea.  Not that he was ever selfish in bed.  To the contrary, he was so freaking giving I felt like queen of the universe.  When I wasn’t second guessing his whereabouts, anyway.  I had been such a dumb ass. But to be fair, so had he.

“I owe you at least four mind blowing orgasms with my tongue, ‘cause your blow job was worth at least twenty, but I can’t let it go to your head.”

“Sounds reasonable enough.”  I could practically feel his magical tongue already.  If we kept this up, I was going to be rubbing one out before I even left this room.  Come to think of it, Danny might enjoy that.  Scratch that, he would freaking love it.  “Anything else on there?”

“Well, I need to not leave your other holes jealous of your mouth.”

I shouldn’t have asked, my need pulsating throughout me as I remembered the feel of his cock pounding into me, or the gentle lovemaking that bound us as one, depending on our mood.  Oh, he knew what he was doing.  Not that I was going to make him stop.  This was just too much fun. “That’s a given. Anything else?”

“Depends on how well you ride me.” He winked. 

“What’s exactly at stake here?” Please say nipple play.  Please say nipple play.

“I was thinking of forever.”