Chapter Fourteen

Valen

“Where were we?” Hutch asks, facing me wearing only boxer briefs and a smile. “Me missing you?” he offers.

I shake my head, tears still staining my face. “Milkshake,” I say. “We were at milkshake.”

“How could I forget? Let’s get you that milkshake,” he growls, sitting on his bed. “Come here.”

Frog to mosquito, I tell you. When I’m standing in between his legs he uses one finger to slip the black lace bra straps off my shoulder, his gaze following the fabric as it inches down. “Now that semantics are out of the way, I’m going to fuck the life out of you.”

“Sounds terminal,” I say, reaching behind my back to unfasten the bra. It falls off, and his mouth closes over one nipple and then the other. “Leave a little life, okay?”

He leans back from my chest to look up at me. “I can’t make any promises. I’m starving for you.” His neck works as he swallows hard. “Starving.”

The intensity is life altering—it hits me in a furious wave. His hands slide from my rib cage down to my hips. “Lucky for you my body is a buffet with your name written all over it. Eat it all.”

Hutch leans in to kiss my stomach, one side of my belly button and then the other. It’s a tender whisper of a touch and my whole body prickles at the small, intimate touch. Hooking his thumbs into my panties he slides them down until they fall to the floor. I step out of them a little more gracefully than the leather leggings. “I’m a fat boy at buffets, Valen. I’ll want seconds and thirds and then the soft serve ice-cream. I’ll tilt my head under the machine and let the cream fall into my mouth at hyper speed.”

I tilt my head back and laugh heartily. When I catch my breath a few moments later, I look down to find his intent gaze on my face, a sweet look in his eye. “I love you, Valen,” he whispers.

He uses my name. My name. The truth in his voice can’t be denied. “I love you too, Hutch.”

Smiling widely, I take his face in mine and press my lips against his. He pulls me to his chest and rolls us back onto his bed. “Take your panties off. I want my milkshake,” I say, giggling.

“Let me fuck the life out of you first,” he says, pinning my hands over my head. He dips his head down and bites a nipple. When I moan he releases to repeat the gesture on the other side. “I’ve missed you. Your body. Everything.”

He kisses me again, his tongue melting against mine as a groan from his throat transfers between my lips. It hits me square in the pussy. At the thought, he rolls to the side and slips a finger inside me. “You’re wet for me.”

“I’ve missed you too,” I explain. “Vincent came out of retirement because of you.” He grins when he pulls away from my mouth. Slipping my hand into his pants, his cock is steely hard and dripping with cum, so I slide down his boxers. He helps me, but keeps his mouth on me at all times.

Both naked, we’re right where we need to be. His fingers work my clit and my hands surround his shaft desperate for connection. He licks my neck and my head swims with lust. We exist in the state of skin, and wetness, and hands sliding everywhere. It’s despair and happiness. It’s need, desire…it’s love.

His head lowers from my chest, to my belly and then between my legs. He laps at my wet center, his tongue flicking and his fingers fucking and twisting at a harried, blissful pace. Eyes closed he looks like he’s in fucking heaven as he eats me. Even in my blissed out state, I watch his face as he pleasures me, because every so often he opens his eyes to fix me with a gaze that’s filled with so much, I couldn’t possibly not see it.

I come hard, squirting all over the bed. My hips buck as his fingers slam against my g-spot. I yell. I scream. I clutch the bedsheets as the furious orgasm takes residence in every square inch of my body. Hutch bites his lip in a dirty grin as he watches the orgasm with a sense of pride.

“Fuck me now,” I say, in the throes of orgasm. “I need your cock inside me.”

Brows raised, he scoots up my body in a move that resembles a push-up. “I can’t not obey that order, Ma’am.” In one fluid thrust, he juts his hard, thick cock inside me, filling me while the waves of my orgasm are still flexing my pussy. There’s nothing separating us in this moment. Not secrets, or lies. Not even a damn condom.

Hutch moans as his own desire takes over. It’s the moment I always look forward to. “Your pussy feels amazing,” he grunts, in between hard, long thrusts. He nibbles my ear and kisses my neck. “How does it feel for you?”

I’m moaning, panting, and glimmering with a light sheen of sweat, and he’s asking me how it feels for me. “I just came all over your face and fingers,” I grind out. “It’s the best feeling in the world.”

My pulse is hammering as the endorphins take over completely. Hutch has one hand on my ass, helping the pace and angle to hammer me just how he likes it. “Pretty sure this is the best feeling in the world,” he says the word this on a deep thrust.

I’m beyond talking. I’m feeling everything. My clit is rubbing against his pubic bone and the sense of fullness he gives each time he enters me is entrancing me—dragging me into a sexual fueled coma. Hutch whispers in my ear that he’s coming, but his words don’t have my full attention. My orgasm does. My second orgasm.

“I’m coming,” I say, bringing his face to mine for a deep kiss. Clenching my cunt, I come hard on his dick and Hutch cringes, his face pressing into mine.

“I can’t hold out with your pussy devouring my dick like that,” Hutch growls, words clipped. I shut him up with a kiss and let the pleasure wash over me.

“There’s nothing quite like having an orgasm with your dick inside me,” I pant out, holding his cock in as deep as it will go.

When he’s satisfied I’m finished he pumps in and out of me a few more times and leans back onto his knees, pulling his wet, gleaming dick in his hand. Walking on his knees up my body he jerks it a few more times and comes into my waiting, open, hungry mouth. Like a greedy girl, I take it all and swallow it down as he watches through a lust filled gaze.

Hutch collapses next to me on the bed, pulling me on top of him. I rest my head on his chest as we both catch our breath. When our chests stop heaving and our heart beats match each other, pulse for pulse, he says, “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“It was,” I agree, releasing a long breath and rolling to the side so I can look at him. One of my legs is thrown over his, and the comforter is a complete, wet, mess. “No condom.”

“No condom,” he deadpans. “And it was amazing. Can we do it again?” Now, his reticence of using condoms in the past makes total sense. A lot of things hold a new clarity.

“We can do it a million times,” I reply.

“How was your milkshake?” he asks, grinning.

I can’t help but laugh in reply. Clearing my throat, I say, “It was brilliant. The flavor nuances were really something to write home about. Next time if you eat some pineapple it would add some sweetness.”

He laughs and rubs down my arm with his warm hand. I tingle. I know what that dirty hand is capable of. “I’ll eat whatever you want if you’ll eat the beefsteak, girl.”

I sigh, relieved and fulfilled. “Everything is good now?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer for a beat or two and my chest tightens. “Right?” I ask again.

“Everything is perfect, Valen. Perfect. It’s all falling into place and I never thought it would happen for me. Not again. How can a bastard like me hit the lottery twice?” He tells me the story about how he felt when he saw me the first time. Hutch speaks of his feelings the first time we made love, the first time I cooked for him, how his hesitance to love me only fueled his desire to keep me forever.

There’s a sadness in his voice, but there’s also hope, and a joy I can’t ignore. No response is good enough, so I stay silent, and smile at him. With one finger I trace his biceps and the frog tattoo on his neck. It represents everything I thought I wanted.

I never knew how much I needed him, though.