by Penny Wylder
I weave my fingers into her hair, guiding her further. We’ve been at this point before, almost into her throat, but never made it. Today it feels easy. The head of my cock slips in, and Mel seals her lips around my base, nose pressed to my stomach. I don’t think it can possibly feel any better until she swallows, milking my shaft, and I curse loudly. She does it again, and again, and I hold her there, rocking my hips deeper into her mouth until she comes up for air, gasping.
“Holy shit, Melena,” I say.
She just grins, taking me in again. There’s no mercy for my cock this time. Mel uses a rhythm that she knows I love, and I feel the orgasm building in the base of my spine. But that’s not my plan today. Today, just like the first time I proposed to her, I want to be inside her when I come. That possessive animal roars inside me as I pull her off my cock and spread her out underneath me.
And then I worship her.
I peel off her clothes inch by inch, kissing the skin that I reveal. Until she’s wearing nothing but the ring that I gave her. She’s mine. No one else has ever touched her the way that I’m touching her, and no one else ever will.
Pushing her legs apart, I sink deep into her pussy, satisfied with the knowledge that my cock is the only one that she’s ever known. I hold myself still inside her now, letting her adjust, grinning. I love that I’m big enough that she still has to get used to me.
But it doesn’t take long today, her pussy is clenching down on me, her body writhing with restless need. “Tell me what you want,” I say quietly. “Fast or slow.”
It’s the game that we still play. I’ll always ask, and she’ll always be honest with me. “Fast. Please. For the love of God.”
I oblige, drawing back and slamming home again. Mel cries out, wrapping herself around me and holding on while I fuck her hard. I drive myself into her, moving my angle until I find the one that makes her moan. I love the sound of her voice in my ear.
Working on the ranch, I’ll find myself daydreaming about her breathless sighs and begging me for more, and I’ll be so hard that I have to find her and fuck her before I fall to my knees in the Texas dirt and jerk myself off.
Now isn’t any different.
“Please,” she says to me. “Fuck me harder.”
There’s no blood left in my body. It’s all in my cock. Every stroke is fucking heaven as I thrust into her at a brutal pace, driving us both upward until she’s nearly screaming and I can’t keep quiet.
Mel screams, voice echoing off the water and the sky. A cry of pure pleasure that unleashes my own climax. It feels like my body is consumed with perfect fire, burning me up and remaking me. Lightning strikes down my spine, crashing ecstasy through my cock as I spill myself deep inside her.
I can’t stop moving yet, fucking slowly until we’re both back in our own bodies, helpless and breathless and spent. “Holy shit,” Mel says, breathing hard while her legs are still locked against my hips. “Every time I think that we can’t get any better, we do.”
“We’ll always be able to get better,” I say. “Because I’m going to spend my life learning your body until I can touch you with one finger and make you burst into flames.”
“I think you could probably do that now if you tried.”
She smirks, but it’s a dazed, lazy smirk with her still pleasure-drunk body.
I reluctantly untangle myself from her warm body and reach for the champagne bottle. I peel the foil and pop the cork. I let it fly across the room and let the champagne dribble onto her breasts and my naked lap. I pour two glasses, and hand one to her. I can’t imagine anything closer to heaven.
I chuckle, leaning down to kiss her and lick the champagne that’s trailing down between her breasts. “Have I told you today that I love you?”
“You know, you haven’t. And that’s weird considering that you just proposed to me.”
“I love you,” I say, smiling. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“I do know,” she says. “I see it every day. You think I don’t notice the tiny things, but I do. I see it when you make me breakfast and coffee every morning. When you buy me pie? That’s when I really know. When you stare at me when you think I’m not paying attention. When you pull the blankets over me when you think I’m cold. All the things, Harlan. I see them.”
“I’ll never stop doing them,” I tell her.
“One of the many reasons that I love you,” she says. “And I do. Love you.”
I lean down to kiss her softly, enjoying the feel of her underneath me while both of us are under the open sky. “The christening isn’t done,” I say. “We need to toast.”
“If only we had something to toast to,” she jokes.
Her laugh is the most precious sound in the world. “I don’t know, I think we have some good options. To the house? To the engagement? To your fucking amazing body?”
“How about,” she says, propping herself up on her elbow, “we just toast to this glorious day? The first day of the beginning of a beautiful life together.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I say, and after we both drain our glasses, I put them aside.
“Mel, I am about to make this day a whole lot more glorious, because just now, that fucking, that was just the beginning today. Tomorrow the tractors pull up and we’ll have company on this ranch, but today we’re alone, we’ve got nothing planned, and I want to hear you scream all day long.”
I spread her legs apart, lowering my mouth just above her clit so she can feel my breath.
I don’t wait for her to say yes before devouring her.
Epilogue
Melena
Six months later
Harlan really did choose the prefect spot for this house. The view across the lake is gorgeous, especially on days like this when puffy clouds fill the sky and there’s a breeze that takes the sting of the heat out of the air. I’m watching with relief from the front porch as the last of the tractor trailers leave the property, putting an end to the last six months of noisy and nonstop construction. Harlan and I will have two weeks alone before the ranch’s staff arrive, and then another two weeks before the first guests visit. Trevor and Harlon really pulled it off, and if we’re right, this ranch will be one of the most popular family destinations in Texas within a year. The guest accommodations are beautiful, and the big house has been restored to its former glory. The lower level is one large dining room where guests will load up on country fresh breakfasts before they go out for a day of riding. And the kitchen where Harlan first made me breakfast now rivals any kitchen in a big city hotel. Upstairs in the house, there are bedrooms for the staff. And even two working showers!
We’ve been in our house now for two months, and I still can’t believe that it’s ours. I find myself running my fingers over all the fine finishes that Harlan designed, staring admiringly at the mantel that he built himself from rocks he found at the local quarry. I can’t wait until we have a whole bunch of framed pictures up there of our kids and our wedding day. So far, all that’s there is a selfie we took the day we officially got engaged. It’s not a fancy engagement picture like most couples have. In it, you can only see us from the shoulders up; shoulders down would have been indecent. We’re toasting to the camera, the blue sky behind us, my engagement ring sparkling, laying on the spot where the fireplace sits now. It may not be traditional, but I’ve realized I’m not as traditional as I once thought I was, and the picture is perfect. Because we both look radiant and so excited for our future.
Harlan didn’t complete all the construction by himself as he’d wanted to do, because a couple of months after summer ended, we got a little surprise. Two pink lines on a pregnancy test. Harlan decided he wanted the house completed by the time the baby arrived, so he hired some help to build the house. It didn’t come as too much of a shock that I was pregnant since we can’t seem to keep our hands off each other. Who knew that my dreams of love, marriage, sex and baby would be so happily upended? And in just five months or so, I’ll have a picture of my
baby to add to the mantel. Funny enough, it’ll rest right next to the picture already there of the day he was likely conceived. And one day, we’ll add our wedding picture. Maybe when the baby is old enough to walk down the aisle with us. Our little ring bearer.
Today I was meant to be writing, but instead on the notebook page in front of me is a list of possible names for our son. Our son. Mine and Harlan’s. It still seems like a dream. For sure it’s not something that I ever could have imagined a year ago. I rub my hand over the swell of my stomach. I’m really starting to show now, and I’ve started to feel him kick. It’s a crazy sensation—one that I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to. But I’ve never been happier.
My ring catches my eyes, sparkling where it’s resting on my stomach. I still startle every time I see it even though it’s been six months. My parents and Trevor keep asking when’s the big day, but what they don’t understand is that Harlan and I couldn’t be more committed to each other than we already are. Don’t get me wrong, the wedding day will come. And it will be spectacular. When I’m not working on my writing and making plans for the baby’s nursery, I’m leafing through wedding magazines and planning the wedding of my dreams. But I don’t feel the need to rush. I want to enjoy these days on the ranch. Getting cozy in my new home. Focusing on my writing. Lazily daydreaming out here on the porch about a little boy who will one day be running barefoot in the dirt, trying to keep up with his daddy mending fences.
I squint out to the main road and see the tail ends of the trailers driving west. Finally, some privacy. I walk around the side of the house, wriggling out of my shorts and panties, stripping off my sticky and sweaty tank top, and head to the outdoor shower Harlan insisted we build. It’s nothing like the original shower with its flimsy shower curtain and barely standing walls. Harlan built this part of the house himself. The walls are beautiful deep red cedar, and the shower door is made of smoky glass. I’d try to insist on a real door, but Harlan wondered what would be the fun in that? At least this way he gets to watch my naked silhouette when I shower. Some things never change! I turn on the water and let it run over my body, marveling at the new contour of my tummy, the deeper shade of pink in my nipples, and the extra cup size of my breasts. I snake my hand down between my legs and wonder when Harlan will be home. As usual, just the thought of him has me slick, but I don’t dare touch myself. Harlan and I made a promise.
Tires crunch on gravel coming up the road to our house, so I guess I have my answer. I quickly turn off the shower and wrap myself in my robe to greet him at his truck. It’s a little hard to skip down the driveway in my flipflops, but I can’t help it. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him. He was in the city for the past few days interviewing and hiring staff. In fact, it’s the longest we’ve been separated for nine months, and we made a promise. We may not have waited for our wedding night to sleep together, but Harlan gave me strict orders: no coming while he was away. He said he wanted me desperate and begging by the time he came back. And I am. The combination of the hormones surging through me and the time away from Harlan have kept my mind occupied on a single thought these past few days: sex.
“Hey now, slow down!” he yells at me as he climbs out of his truck. “Not only will you give me a heart attack if you trip, I don’t want to spend a second bandaging you up before I take you upstairs to bed.”
I laugh, but I don’t slow down, throwing myself into his arms and breathing in his scent deeply. God, I’ve missed this man.
His arms are tight around me, and he nestles his face in my neck kissing me there, and up my jaw, before finally planting a deep kiss on my mouth, showing me just how much he really has missed me. For emphasis he grabs my ass, pulling me closer to him, and I instantly feel how hard he is through my robe and his jeans. I reach down and rub my hand up and down his erection.
“So,” I deadpan, “I’m guessing you want to unpack first thing?”
“Not on your life,” he says, with no hint of humor. His eyes are dead serious and full of lust. He reaches back into the truck and brings out a small box. Pie.
We walk up the steps of the front porch arm and arm. Harlan puts the pie in the kitchen before coming back to me.
“So tell me,” he says, tracing a finger over my collarbone and dragging down the shoulder of my robe until it opens up, exposing a single breast, “what have you been doing while I’ve been away?”
His touch, after all these days apart, is electrifying, and I can hardly form words to answer him.
“A little of this, a little of that,” I say playfully, distracted by his fingers now running down my stomach and stopping just above my pussy.
“But Mel,” he whispers, “do you promise you haven’t been doing any of this?”
I can’t answer, because when he says “this,” his finger brushes my clit and I practically fall to the floor. I think I’m making sounds that resemble “I promise”
He catches my look, and a slow smile blooms on his face. “Do I need to carry you up the stairs and ravish you?”
My mouth goes dry. “Yes, please.”
Harlan scoops me up into his arms effortlessly and carries me up the staircase toward our bedroom. Pregnancy has made changes to my sex drive, and when I want it, I want it now.
He lays me on the bed, helping me out of my robe. I can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s about to devour me. I watch his eyes go dark with lust, and he strips with ruthless efficiency.
“So I upheld my end of the bargain. I haven’t come in days. Can you say the same, Harlan?” When I reach out and touch his cock, brushing my finger around the crown, I get my answer. He hisses in a breath and jumps. “Oh, you are ever a man of your word, aren’t you? A little sensitive, huh Harlan?”
He chuckles and lays down beside me. As much as I want him inside me, the devil on my shoulder is tempting me to tease him, torture him. So with a featherlight tough, I run my hand up his cock, and then tickle his stomach a bit before dragging my hand back down. His thigh muscles are taut with tension, and his lips are parted, yet he seems to be holding his breath.
“It was hard, Harlan,” I whisper in his ear, continuing to stroke him ever so slowly, “lying in this bed at night, thinking about you, about your cock. Once in a while I’d reach down, and I couldn’t believe how wet I was.”
When I reach the top of his cock again, precum is oozing from the tip, and my hand is slick as I drag it back down to his balls. I grab at his balls firmly. They’re so full and warm, and Harlan’s hips jump.
“Sometimes I’d just play with my nipples,” I tease. Now I’m straddling his waist, tweaking my nipples. His hard cock is resting at my slit, and I know he can feel how wet I am for him. I slide back and forth, coating him a bit with my juices, and he makes a desperate attempt to angle into me, to penetrate me.
“But I waited for you, baby,” I coo. “I waited for this moment. And now I want to hear you beg, Harlan. I want you to beg me to put your cock inside me.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him this turned on. So tortured in his want and need.
“I need you,” he says, with a rasp in his voice. “I’m fucking begging you, Mel. I need to feel your pussy.”
That’s all I wanted to hear. So I slide back, and when I slide forward again, I make sure his cock is perfectly lined up with my entrance, and he fills me in one single thrust.
His hands fly to my hips and his fingers dig into my skin. There will be bruises tomorrow but I don’t care. The look on his face, the grunts and moans, it’s all worth it. Harlan fucks up into me wildly. Repeating my name, again and again. “Oh Mel. Oh Mel. Fuck, you feel so good.”
I don’t think there will ever be a time when I get tired of looking at his body. Sculpted and tan from hours of working in the sun. Hard muscles that line his arms and stomach, and the V that points directly to his cock.
Just as I think he’s getting close, he flips me off of him and stretches out next to me, pulling me against him—the most comfortable positi
on for my growing stomach, and plunges into me again.
Harlan pulls my leg back across his, stretching me open so that he can take me. And he does take me. He knows exactly what I need, and right now it’s raw, harsh, unfiltered pleasure. My breasts bounce with the force of his thrusts, my eyes nearly rolling back. He fills me so deeply like this I can barely breathe.
His mouth is at my ear, one arm strapped across my chest to keep me still. “You like it when I fuck you like this,” he says. “Don’t you?”
It’s not a question, and there’s only one answer. “Yes.”
“You’re mine,” he growls. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I gasp out. He knows the words turn me on. Reminding me that he’s the only one who can do this to me. The one who put his baby in me. The one who’s licked every inch of my body.
He reaches down between us and finds my clit, so sensitive from all these days waiting for him. It’s like a trip wire. One touch and I’m gone. Sparkling stars splash across my vision as I come, the orgasm harsh and fast, making me cry out before letting me go. “Fuck,” I manage, but that’s it. “Fuck.”
My pussy clenches like a fist around him, and he grabs me harder, groaning into my ear as I feel his hot cum fill me up inside.
We lay there spent for minutes, legs and arms tangled, hair sweaty and plastered to our foreheads. Just breathing with the release. Reveling in our reunion.
“How was that?” Harlan says, far more gentle.
I laugh, squeezing down on his cock. “Fantastic.”
“Good.” He pulls out of me and props himself on his arm to look me in the eyes. “I have to keep my woman satisfied.”
I grin up at him. “I am very satisfied, I promise.”
