Dallas
The sweet and salty tang of Shelley’s most intimate scent is smeared over my lips and chin. Even after wiping my mouth on my forearm, even with the heavy onslaught of the rain, I can still smell her. Still taste her.
Arousal is a knife in my gut. Stabbing deep.
Letting out a pained grunt, I notch my cock at Shelley’s entrance, the head ruddy with need.
Meanwhile, she’s pink and swollen and still glossy with arousal, her thighs dropping wider as she coaxes me close. On any other day, in any other circumstances, it would be this storm demanding every ounce of my attention right now. I’d be held spellbound by the clouds, the pounding rain, the lightning strobing the sky; I’d be yanking the tarps off the crates of equipment in the back of my trunk, and hurrying to take measurements.
Not today.
Not with Shelley.
There’s nothing else in the world except the sweet, wet heat between her thighs, calling me deeper.
I grip her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh—and Christ, I’m being too rough with her, too much of a caveman, but Shelley doesn’t seem to mind. She moans and leans forward to kiss my throat, her arms winding around my neck. The brush of her hard nipples against my bare chest makes my heart slam against my ribs.
“Ready?” I ask.
Shelley answers with a breathy laugh and a nip to my earlobe. “Uh-huh.”
Breath held, I squeeze her hips and press forward, inch by slow inch. Wet warmth envelops me, massaging my cock, and as lightning flashes behind the clouds, my mind short-circuits too.
No more thoughts.
No more fears.
Nothing but Shelley.
Christ, she feels good. Like slipping into a warm bath at the end of a long day; like a back rub on tensed up muscles. Pleasure cascades down my spine, and I don’t even realize that I’m thrusting, fucking my way deeper on instinct, until I look down and see my own shaft disappearing inside her.
So that’s how it looks, I think madly, groaning low and gathering Shelley closer to my chest.So this is how it feels.
And I’ve waited so long for this, never willing to settle for less, that my brain can hardly compute that it’s finally happening.
A rumble of thunder vibrates through the soles of my bare feet where they meet the hard earth. And we’re both nude, exposed to the wind and rain; both slipping and sliding against each other in a tangle of wet limbs. Both oblivious to the storm drenching our hair, our bodies, our piles of abandoned clothes—too wrapped up in every kiss and squeeze and thrust.
“Oh,” Shelley moans, her fingernails digging into my shoulders. “Oh, oh god.Dallas.”
Every slam of my hips makes her breasts bounce and her eyelids flutter. But she’s not passively taking it; not sitting there idle. No, Shelley crosses her ankles behind my back and squeezes my waist with those soft, perfect thighs, then scores ten pink lines down my chest with her fingernails. Her pants and moans spur me on, and when she yanks me down for a kiss, she bites my bottom lip between her pearly teeth.
It’s primal.
As vicious and urgent as the storm.
It’s fucking perfect is what it is.
“Mine,” I hear myself muttering. How long have I been saying that, underscoring each punch of my hips? “Mine, mine. You’re mine, Shelley.”
She grabs my ass and tugs me as close as I can possibly get, my weight tipping forward over the truck, burying me as deep as I can go inside her. My hands splay over the hood for balance as my shaft twitches, pulsing with need.
“Yes,” Shelley agrees. “I am.”
And then I’m shoving a hand between us, finding her clit with my thumb. I’m rolling my hips, trying to stroke all the sensitive spots inside my girl, rewarded with the best sounds I’ve ever heard in my damn life. My teeth are gritted, and beads of sweat mingle with the rain drops on my back.
When Shelley clenches around me, her whole body going taut as a wire, triumph and relief flood my chest in equal measure. God, I so desperately wanted this to be good for her.Iwanted to be good for her, and I wanted to feel my girl come apart on my cock.
Now she’s clinging to me, shuddering through waves and waves of pleasure, practically sobbing at how good it feels. Her tight channel has me in a vise grip, trying to milk me withevery flutter of her inner muscles, but I hold off until Shelley slumps forward against my chest. I wait until it’s over, until I’ve committed every single one of her sounds and expressions to memory, and only then do I wedge as deep as I can go… and finally, blissfully let go.
