Davenport Harbor (Six Degrees Book 3)

by Statham, Mayra

  Chapter Fifteen

  John

  She surprised me when she kissed my jaw, but I leaned back and let her. The way she ground her hips into me, her mouth on my skin, made my mind blur as I let her take control. Closing my eyes, I let myself feel her as she took what she wanted. I felt her heated center over my hardness and leaned my head back onto the couch, my hands on her lower back, sneaking them under her shirt, my fingers skimming over the soft skin of her back and sides.

  She took her mouth away and stared at me. “Can I cash in my rain check?” Her husky voice made my dick twitch so hard I closed my eyes.

  Nodding, I pulled her in closer, opening my eyes when I ground up into her, her mouth parting into a perfect little O.

  I shifted our bodies so that she was on her back on the couch, my body slightly over hers, one leg between hers, keeping most of my weight off of her, careful not to hurt her.

  “Tell me you want this,” I demanded, my free hand stopping right over the hem of her shirt.

  “I do,” she panted, her eyes never moving from mine, her stare so fucking trusting it humbled me. It made me want to cuddle her and reassure her that her trust wouldn’t be broken. What the hell is wrong with me? Shaking my head from the touchy feely thoughts, I looked at her. Her eyes were filled with passion. Torn between what I wanted and how I wanted to do things, I made a decision.

  There was no way I was going to rush this, but I needed to watch her fall. I needed to hear her plea, smell and taste her cream like I needed my next breath.

  Anne

  My heart raced as his hand skimmed my tummy, and I sucked in air at the touch. His fingers burned hot. Dizzy with need, I closed my eyes, letting myself drown in the sensations his touch was bringing to life. His fingers glided over my skin, up and down, so fucking slowly it was driving me crazy. I couldn’t help grinding up against the thigh he had between my legs.

  “Tell me,” he repeated, “Kitten, open your eyes, look at me, and tell me.” I opened my eyes slowly, his intense stare making me have to take a deep breath.

  “I do.” Confidently answering him, not looking away, I put my hand on his face, “I want this, John.”

  “You are sure?” His body was stiff over mine, his muscles straining tightly. He was holding back! The idea of this slightly brutish, amazing man holding back put me even further at ease, and I slightly relaxed.

  “Yes. I’m sure. Please.”

  “No rushing me,” he ordered, “I’m in charge. Do you understand?” The darkness in his voice made me shiver, my nipples straining for his touch, my breasts heavy and achy. My entire body screamed for more.

  I shouldn’t want this.

  He had told me himself over and over that he was a difficult man and had proved it when he overreacted the night before. But I couldn’t help myself. I’d seen the good in him. The side he tried to pretend wasn’t there. The way he was with not only Zoey and I, but also with his friends. I’d seen the pain in his eyes that shined through whenever he thought no one was paying attention, and all I wanted to do was wipe it away for him. Even knowing he was way out of my league not only because of the kind of man he was, but also because I lacked the experience I was sure he had. I couldn’t seem to get myself to stop. I wanted whatever he was planning on giving me.

  “I understand,” I replied, and he nodded.

  He moved off of me, leaving me on my back, and I stared at him now kneeling in front of the couch. I sat up and turned to him.

  “What are…?”

  “Shh...” Both of his large hands helped move me as if I was a rag doll until he had me sitting the way he wanted me to, slightly slouching, in front of him, my legs open, and his large body between them. At this level, he leaned in and kissed me, his hands tangling in my hair, heat surging through every cell in my body. Moans filled the air, and I was burning up for more.

  His talented strong hands moved to my waist to pull my shorts down. I expected him to be rough and fast about it, but I should have known better. My breathing stuttered as he dragged the soft, faded denim slowly down my legs.

  “I’m going to savor this, Kitten.” He moved back, kissing the top of each foot as he slipped my shorts off. Something in my chest tightened at the sight and sensation of him doing something as sweet and romantic as kissing the tops of my feet. That was when his words processed in my mind. He was going to savor this. Savor me. Breathing was suddenly hard to do.

  Savor me.

  I'd never been savored. Not once. Not ever had a man taken his time with me. Moisture pooled at my center as my heart hammered painfully against my chest. Anticipation and emotions I wasn't sure I should let myself feel made my skin warm. A shiver ran through my entire body, leaving me trembling and at his mercy.

  His lips lifted off the top of my foot as he cupped my heel and looked at me. His stare was dark and hungry. He leaned down again, nuzzling the front of my left ankle, and my eyes closed, afraid of the tears that might escape.

  "So soft." His quiet voice vibrated against my skin, the sensation rumbling through my whole body, and I was dying to close my eyes. I didn’t. I didn’t want to look away from him. I didn’t want to miss a moment.

  His tongue warmed my skin as he peppered open and closed-mouth kisses up my leg. I couldn’t help but spread them wider in anticipation of whatever he wanted to do to me. Reaching my knee, he moved his mouth towards my inner thigh, making breathing even more difficult.

  "Breathe, Kitten," he ordered with a soft chuckle, and I grew wetter at the sight of him playful and smiling.

  "You make it hard," I gasped as his mouth moved up the middle of my left inner thigh. The soft air of his silent laughter against my skin tickled slightly, and I gripped the throw pillows beside of me.

  "You make me hard," he amusingly told me, his mouth moving up. If he only moved his mouth slightly to the right, he'd be right where I needed him.

  "John," I moaned, hardly recognizing my own voice.

  "You're wet, Kitten.” His hands skimmed the back of my calves, and I closed my eyes and arched my back, most of my weight resting on my shoulders. “Dripping.” The pad of his thumb skimmed the now slippery material of my ruined white cotton panties.

  I squeezed my eyes tighter. God! Here was a man who could be with any kind of woman, more than likely ones that wore French silk and fine lace, and I was wearing cotton. Boring, white cotton panties! Before I could completely snap myself out of every sensation he’d wrung out of me, the pad of his thumb added more pressure to his stroke; back and forth, achingly slowly. He grunted in appreciation.

  “John.” My voice was slightly strangled as I started to stop him, feeling inadequate in my cotton panties, but then he literally stole the breath from my body.

  “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, Kitten.” His rich tone and warm breath moved over me, making my body melt more. “You’re so wet I can see through. I can see you, how much you want me.”

  His head lowered and the tip of his nose nudged my swollen center. I couldn’t help the weird sound that escaped the back of my throat. I felt him inhale, and his groan filled the room, making me sink further into the couch, fisting the pillows at my side, clenching when his hot tongue took a barely there swipe over my center.

  “You test my control, baby.” He licked me again with his beautiful tongue, and I moaned, my feet gripping the rug below. “You taste so fucking good.” His hands gripped the back of my thighs as he nuzzled me again with his face, and I ground down on him. The room filled with my scent and unintelligible moans.

  “You want more, don’t you Kitten? You want to feel my tongue on your pretty pussy?”

  I’d never liked dirty talk. I’d always thought it was silly or disgusting whenever my ex had done it. But right now, with John, it made me ache. Slowly, each dirty word he whispered against me broke and cracked open a dam I hadn’t known was there.

  “Mmm. Nothing has ever tasted this good.” His mouth moved and his fingers skimmed over me, his thumb strumming
, moving back and forth on just the right spot. I could hear something in the background and realized it was me. I was incoherently begging him for more.

  “Taste, baby.” His hand moved, and I almost cried out at the loss of his touch. His fingers were at my mouth. I opened my eyes and was taken aback by the salacious way he was looking at me.

  “That’s it, baby,” he coaxed me. I opened my mouth wider, taking his thick middle finger into my mouth.

  Our eyes locked, and a current rushed between us. I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I grabbed hold of his hand, obviously taking him by surprise when his eyes widened and then narrowed lustfully. He watched me like a predator does his prey when I took two of his fingers into my mouth slowly. In and out I sucked them as they glided over my tongue. The taste of his skin and my essence created an aphrodisiac that was undeniable and definitely overtaking the space we were in. Breaking our gaze, I closed my eyes as I hollowed my cheeks sucking his fingers with a loud moan.

  “Suck my fingers, baby. I can’t wait till those pretty lips are wrapped around me.” His words made me open my mouth and lick his fingers. Never had I been this aroused. He let me play, the slight twitch at his jaw the only tell that he was losing control and I loved it. I wanted him to let go.

  As if he could read my mind, he growled, “Enough.” I opened my mouth and smiled wickedly at him as he took hold of my hands and pulled his fingers from my mouth, his nose flaring.

  “You’re going to get your pretty little ass spanked if you keep that shit up.” I tilted my head at him, shifting my body until I was sitting on my knees on the couch, now eye to eye with him. His threat of spanking me didn’t scare me. He would never do it to hurt me. I might not have known much about him, but I did know that.

  My hands were on his shoulders. His quickly tangled in my hair, fisting at my scalp and pulling me gently back.

  “No rushing, Kitten.” I smiled at him and his silly pet name. He shook his head, his free hand pulling down the front of my black tank top and pushing the cup of my bra down with it as well. His head went to my neck, his teeth scraping down to my collarbone.

  “Please, John,” I moaned deeply, arching my front towards him. My body was tightly wound up and seeking relief.

  “Mmm, Kitten, you want this, don’t you."

  “Mmm,” I moaned as his mouth took my nipple and flicked it hard with his tongue a second before sucking it into his heated mouth. He bit down and sucked on my pebbled nipple. My legs buckled, but as if expecting it, he was now holding on to me and laying me down on the couch. In an effortless movement, he undressed me, my clothes now on the floor. I looked down at him. His dress shirt was unbuttoned, tan muscled skin dusted with dark chest hair peeking through, his belt and slacks undone and falling to his narrow waist. His thick hardness tented his pants and I swallowed.

  “You want that, don’t you?” He growled. He took his hands off of me and stroked himself over the outside of his pants. My mouth watered as I nodded.

  “Tell me,” he commanded as he held himself again.

  “I want it.” My voice was soft, and he grinned at me, shaking his head.

  “Tell me,” he repeated, stroking, his hand tightening slightly.

  “I...I…”

  “Louder, Kitten!” He growled.

  “I want it,” I whimpered.

  “Again,” he ordered sternly.

  “I want it. John, I want it so bad.” I looked at his hands stroking his pant covered member and licked my lips.

  “Please, John.” Our eyes connected when his name slipped from my lips, and I swore an electric current moved between us. He nodded as he lay on the floor, and I watched him, slightly confused.

  His hands quickly finished undoing and unzipping his slacks, and he pulled down the material of his boxer briefs, stroking his thick, long cock, a pearly drop at the tip that made me want to taste him. I would do anything he told me to do to get closer. Guiding one leg over his face, he had me squat over him. Before I could feel self-conscious of something I’d never done, his tongue came out and licked my flesh, and I let my body take over. Grinding my hips down, his growls against my flesh made my head spin, made my mind go blank. I whimpered, crying out dirty things that he obviously enjoyed as he feasted on me even more enthusiastically than before. Climbing higher and higher, I watched as he was stroking his beautiful cock and, unable to help myself, I leaned forward, but not as much as I needed to get him in my mouth. Letting go of himself, his hands gripped my hips down strongly to keep me in place.

  Wanting to bring him the bliss the way he was bringing me, I licked my hand and held him, fondling him. Talking to him, I stroked him. His hardness was growing thicker and harder in my hand. Sweat sheathed our bodies. I couldn’t seem to delay the reaction in my body. Everything was tightening. Every inch of my skin was tight and hot, warm pleasure coiling tightly deep in my stomach.

  “Oh God! John. John. John.” His name was an incantation as he took my body higher and I screamed in pleasure. My body was shuddering and bucking against his face as a tide of pleasure hit me. My eyes shut tightly.

  My orgasm was so powerful and breathtaking my ears buzzed and my body quivered. I opened my eyes just in time to see his own release spurt over my hand, his own body bucking up, milking every bit of pleasure. Gently, I slithered off his face, his hands around my thighs holding me still and close to him, the stubble on his face slightly scratching my skin. Breathing in the musky scent of sex in the room, I relaxed my head on his washboard abs. The room was quiet; the only thing I could hear was the sound of my heart rate slowing down from a heavy pounding to a steady beat and our hard breathing filling our space as we caught our breath.

  We basked in the intimacy of those quiet moments, in the silence and bliss we’d brought to one another. My hand moved to the base of him and slowly slid up to right below his navel, touching the pool of his essence. I rubbed it into his skin lazily, liking the way his skin felt. Without thinking, I brought my body up onto my elbow and pressed against his side, rubbing him, wanting to get my fill of his skin against my hands. He was watching me, but I couldn’t stop my fingers from moving. I loved the way his muscles contracted when I touched him in certain places. The contours of his chiseled abs clenched and then relaxed as I rubbed over them with my hands. After most of his release had disappeared, I locked eyes with him, gazing over my shoulder into his warm eyes. His hot gaze sent a jolt of heat to my core as I licked my fingers. I watched his nose flare. His semi-hard cock twitched against my hand. I smiled at him.

  The earthiness of him filling my mouth, my body was sated. I relaxed when he moved us around so that his head was against some of the throw pillows from the couch. My head used the hard muscles on his chest for a pillow.

  Closing my eyes, I let his warmth seep into me. He made me feel safe and more secure than I could ever remember. His steady heartbeat was the song of my dreams as I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  John

  Waking to her in my arms, I saw her golden-brown eyes smiling and staring back at me. It made me squeeze her tightly, her soft laughter muffled by her face pressing into my chest. Letting her go slightly, I stared at her, wondering to myself how it was that I’d spent forty-three years without her. Without waking to her warm body tucked into my arms.

  My stomach growled and she laughed, her eyes bright and carefree. I leaned in and kissed her deeply.

  “I need to get Zoey.” I looked towards the baby monitor on the coffee table and could hear her babbling on the other end. Rolling us so that she was under me, I looked at her, her hands now on my face, and fuck, but I liked when she did that. Every touch, every caress weakened and broke down something in me that I was not ready to admit to myself.

  Her eyes were soft and smiling. I kissed her, and the way she parted her mouth instantly made me moan into it. The taste of her mixing with the soft purrs of pleasure started to revive my body, and I pulled away from her. Keeping her eyes
closed, she parted that fucking sweet mouth of hers in a very satisfied, slightly shy smile, making me want to beat on my chest in some weird kind of triumph.

  “Get Zoey, I’ll go get us dinner.”

  “I can make something—” Before she could finish her sentence, I leaned in and kissed her. It was wet and deep, and she squirmed beneath me, holding me tightly, bringing me closer. Insatiable. Pulling away from her was killing me.

  “I’ll grab us dinner, dessert, and a movie. I’ll bring it to the guest house. I’m spending the night.” She swallowed and nodded before I rolled off her and helped her up.

  ***

  Driving back home, the delicious scent of Italian food wafting in the air, I was excited to get back. I was motivated in a way that I had never been. I’d walked Anne and Zoey back to the guest house, kissing her gently and slowly, trying to fight back the primal urge to take what I wanted from her. During the entire drive to get food I wore a cheesy ass smile over my face. I couldn’t stop it and I couldn’t get myself to care.

  Then on top of it, I had the beautiful vision and sounds of Anne’s body squirming over me engraved into my memory. I’d never really cared about bringing pleasure to someone as much as I needed to bring it to her. When she was riding my face and giving me a hand job, her taste in my mouth, her hands on me, I couldn’t help but let go. It had been one of the most erotic as well as most innocent things I had shared, and somehow that made it more...intimate.

  Shaking my head as I drove up the hill, my jaw twitched when I saw a very familiar cherry red Mercedes parked in my drive. What the fuck? The question kept repeating in my mind. What is she doing here? I didn’t want her here, especially not anywhere close to my kitten. My good mood faded as worry filled the pit of my stomach at what Anne might think about a woman visiting me.

  Belle Garibaldi was the last person I would have expected to show up for a surprise Sunday visit. Rushing into the house with the food in hand, I was surprised to enter to the sound of female voices and light laughter coming from the living room.