by Nicole Snow
“Trent!” My name. Again.
A curse and an object of worship in one.
My tongue flicks, this time harder, pulling her tight cunt open. Her taste, her scent, her everything leaves scorch marks on my brain.
She's burning me the fuck down and all I can do is grab onto her hips, shove her legs apart, and eat her like no tomorrow.
Like the last six years never happened.
Like I always knew I'd fuck her velvet with my tongue and leave her shuddering, still attached to my face, whining and begging and desperate for more.
Like this pussy is divine, and divine because it's mine, and mine because it's so close to coming on my face.
Pleasure hits fast once I go to work. Her clit smolders against my tongue. Twitches, throbs, and stiffens, a willing prisoner. I move my head, adding my stubble's friction, a low thunder in my throat that vibrates to her core.
“Trent. Oh. Jesus.”
Come for me, darling girl. Come like you haven't for years. Come on the face you can't decide if you want to smash to pieces, or kiss like it's the end of the world.
“Trent!” Her little cry rings shriller.
My cue to bring her over.
So I do.
Her fingers scratch, dig, try to mark my shoulders through my shirt. Fuck, I hope she does it again later, puts lines down my back while I'm fucking her ten times harder than this tongue can.
Her hips go insane against my face. I have to hold her down, licking harder, kissing and tongue-fucking her to Heaven and then guiding her back again.
Perfection.
She's still gasping for air as I let her drift into the pillows again. If she didn't need to stop for breath and recover her wits, once the maelstrom I've kicked up in her body is done, I'd shove my cock inside her. Make her scream twice as loud.
Finish with a rogue message my tongue can never say, not in full, and then fuck her like we've been apart for a thousand years.
But she needs a minute. Maybe I do, too.
I let up. Relent. Crawl backwards off the bed, and start freeing my body from the prison of these clothes.
Presh opens her eyes halfway through me undressing. I turn, pumping my cock in my fist. Once is all it takes to see the sexiest sight ever.
That's my woman, sprawled out and naked and waiting to be ravished.
That's the excitement in her lush green eyes.
That's her plush lips falling open, drunk on the memory of our first and only time, plus six years of waiting for this.
“Legs open, darling,” I tell her, climbing onto the bed again.
Presh complies. I take an ankle in each hand, press them against my shoulders, laying my throbbing length against her opening.
She squirms beautifully the instant my swollen head taps her clit. I do it a few more times, forcing the sweetness from her lungs, the soft gasp that lets me know how bad she wants this.
“All those fucking years,” I whisper, stopping to taste her lips. We're eye to eye and I'm so fucking ready to be in her it physically hurts. “We lost a lot of time, Amy Kay.”
“Don't remind me,” she whimpers. Her little eyes shimmer as I tease her cunt again, grinding my dick into her. “God, Trent. I need –”
“You need more than this wild cock and the man attached to it, darling,” I say, forehead burning against hers. “You need to fuck exactly like you've thought about for the last six years. Fucked so hard you forget the bad, the past, and the reason we're even here, tangled up together.”
“Yes!”
“Baby, I'm not done,” I growl, crushing my lips on hers. My balls are about to go up in flames any second, but damn, I need to get this out. “Tonight, we're fucking like our very lives depend on it because maybe they do. Maybe if I fuck you hard enough and long enough and deep enough, Presh, knowing your pussy's tight as the last time we did this and wet for me, wet because it's mine, then maybe we'll finally figure out how we move the fuck on. Maybe we figure out a lot. Because just between you and me, no matter how much I say it, I still don't know how to do that.”
I hear her swallow. Hard. Lust soaked heavy with tears.
“I just know one thing: I want you like the air in my lungs and the ache in my pulse. Want you like I've never wanted anyone or anything, Precious, because nothing ever did compare to Amy Kay. And once you come on me a few times and I pour myself in you, I've got a real wicked feeling more of this, more of us, is all I'll ever want.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but what comes out is a gasp.
Perfectly timed. I push into her, baring my teeth, electric pleasure igniting across my brain.
Fuck, she feels good. She feels amazing. She feels better than anything I guiltily pulled myself off to these last six years apart.
“Trent,” she whimpers, still trying to talk.
I don't let her.
We've both said too much. So I just take her mouth instead, driving into her harder, shaking her from head-to-toe.
Her tight little pussy sucks me in so deep, so sweet, it'll be hard as hell not to blow.
Maybe that's what causes me to fuck her harder. Faster. But I think I'd have my whole soul in this fuck anyway because it's her.
Truly, beautifully, finally Amy Kay Chenocott.
I throw my hips into hers, holding her legs to my waist for leverage. Her sharp moans become a fevered whimper. Her pussy constricts, tighter and wetter and so damn maddening on all of me.
I send her over the edge, savoring every scream, marveling how hot she comes for me.
Amazed because it's even better than that first time an eternity ago.
Her body hitches, shaking harder as she comes down from it. Her O leaves her in a ruin that turns my dick to diamond. I bore into her, a growl coming unstuck in my throat, fucking my darkest dreams into every inch of her flesh.
“Hurry the hell up,” I whisper, running my hand up her leg, throwing my balls against her ass, doubling my speed. “Presh, come with me.”
“It's too soon. I don't know if –”
“Presh! Come on this cock. I know you've got it in you, and I want your pussy sucking me dry when I go.” The sparkle in her eyes tells me there's another O in her.
I'll find it. Fuck it right out of her. Bring her crashing over the edge even sweeter than before because she'll see I'm right about her body.
I know her too well. Know how to make her flesh do miracles.
Leaning, I press my mouth to hers, chasing her tongue. When I catch it, the way we stroke tells her how serious I am.
How much, how serious, how fucking soon I need this. Come, Precious.
My hips glide back and impact hers, all my might thrown in my hips. I deepen my strokes, making sure my pubic bone hits her clit. I swallow every moan spilling out of her and growl my need back.
Then the fever rises in her body: the ache, the desire, the need she swore wasn't there. Her little hands curl around my neck, nails drag down my back, and her breath catches like she's kissed paradise.
No more.
“Precious, fuck, coming!” I bite down on her shoulder, kissing and teething her skin while I slam myself deep.
Her legs buckle against me. Her eyes fly open. And then she's just gone.
Two of us melting into one.
Hearts, minds, bodies, souls.
Hot magma pumps up my shaft and fire bathes my spine. I'm in a cauldron of ecstasy and she's there with me, her pussy milking every inch of me.
Too much.
Too fast.
Too. Fucking. Good.
And that's the understatement of my lifetime because I've never – ever – felt anything like this.
My whole body buckles. Still thrusting. Still flooding her womb.
My eyes grind shut, softly opening after my raging dick finally weakens. I release her shoulder, kissing trails away from the place where I've marked her, not yet going soft.
“Look at me, darling,” I say, tipping her face up with a finger under her chin
.
“That was –”
“Earth shattering.” I finish for her, but what I'm really interested in are her eyes.
They're bright. On fire.
So completely stuck on me, I think the worst really is behind us.
But fuck thinking, too.
This the moment I start believing.
Next time I dip my face to hers, I take her mouth nice and slow. Savoring her taste, her tongue, the subtle tremor in her lips.
I have her completely, without worrying about the psycho who might be after me or the mess we're still in.
I take her like the man I've always been – her lover – and I'm finally home.
“You're stunning as hell when you come, Presh.” I smile.
She smiles back like it's no big surprise. Little minx.
Damn, my dick twitches inside her, hard as it was a few minutes ago, before I came my brains out.
“Beautiful, you said. Just like before. We came beautiful. Remember?”
I do. But it's also not quite right.
“Sure, Precious. That's not the reason why I'm about to flip you over and go at it again, though.” I pause, watching the surprise light her eyes. “We were too young then. Too innocent. Too soft to appreciate this kind of rapture. We didn't have to fight for it before. We had each other, but we didn't. Not like now.“
She's beaming, pulling herself into me, cutting me off with a kiss. I know a woman who can't stand waiting another hot second. Especially when her lips work mine like this delicious torture.
My cock stiffens inside her again. I might be serious about the second round, without even taking a breather.
“Don't say it,” she says softly, brushing her lips against mine once more, as if to stop me from jinxing the spell. “I just want to enjoy tonight. You, me, us.”
My eyes bore through hers. There's too much bleeding out of her and it's too damn obvious. It's too much hurt, too much fear. Too many questions, wondering if I'll fade as the sun comes up, leaving her heart in tatters with a sore ache between her legs.
“You're so wrong,” I growl, bringing my lips to hers, fisting her hair, pulling her into me. “This time it's different, Amy Kay. You'll see. Won't even let you see different. Right after your vision gets over the next three Os I burn through that sweet pussy tonight.”
If this wasn't the time to shut up, I don't think I'd have much choice. The blinding fury building in my balls peaks, calling me to shift her over. I put her on all fours, loving how she moans, taking my time to admire her ass.
It's just as full and lush as I remember. Perfectly shaped. Dangerously inviting.
It's been years since I had an ass like this to grab. Far too fucking many.
That's the only coherent thought on my mind once I'm in her, crashing in from behind, swinging my balls smack at her clit. I fill her with a growl in my throat, loving how she shakes, ripples, comes apart.
Sweet chaos.
Just like this delicate, unspeakable thing between us. Like the promise I just made, to make this time different, something I never thought I'd admit before she showed up on my doorstep.
But that's not quite true.
It was something I was already working on, bleeding on the paper in my office, using the same silver pen I used to sign every multimillion dollar deal for Cryptic.
This chaos is ours to embrace. Ours, and nobody else's.
Clean, orderly love never stood a chance.
Not with how I'm fucking her now, driving to the hilt, my fingers digging into her ass. I reach up, grabbing her hair again, jerking it a little tighter as her body arches, gasps, and falls so closer to –
Fuck!
For a second, I think Portland's being hammered with a moody spring storm. What seems like rain is actually my own pulse.
Her pussy convulses, my thrusts hitch faster, and I'm matching her O, pouring myself in her all over again. I come deep and hard and feral, roaring my pleasure through pinched teeth, hammering her to the mattress like the imaginary storm behind my eyes.
So, this is what it's like to fuck with my all.
I don't know what comes tomorrow. Neither of us do. I mean to leave us so spent when I'm finally done we both hit the pillows face first and don't move till morning.
Whatever it is, it's got to be right and it's got to be heavy.
If this is what moving on looks like, feels like, tastes like, then I might just move the whole damn universe to keep this woman forever.
13
The Other Side (Amy Kay)
I wake up with the mellow sun in my eyes. It filters softly through the venetian blinds, landing on the empty spot next to me on this enormous bed.
I sit up, heart pounding. Am I actually awake? Or is this another nightmare?
No, not this time.
Trent hasn't left me. I hear water hissing in the bathroom attached. A shower running. Probably him cleaning up after last night.
Jesus, and what a night.
The instant I stand up, I feel it in my bones, and smile. I haven't had sex like that since...well, ever.
I'd also be a fool to pretend it's just the dull throb he's left between my legs. Or the soreness in muscles that haven't had that kind of workout for a good long while. It's the passion, the heat, the way he held me to his chest after we'd finished, kissing me to sleep.
Mud runs have nothing on sex with this man.
It's him, the boy I told myself for half a decade I'd lost, and that I had to get over.
Move on, just like he said.
If moving on looks like this, then I'm ready to run at it head-on.
My stomach growls. Breakfast sounds nice. Even better if I'm able to find something in the kitchen to whip up for us both.
I throw on my robe and creep quietly out of the bedroom while he's still busy cleaning up.
His home is predictably enormous. A penthouse, supposedly, the kind of sleek, ultra-modern place a powerful CEO who's short on time and long on obligations ought to have. The size rivals my parents' house, though, even if it doesn't have all the custom amenities or the acreage.
Downtown Portland's view over the Columbia stops my heart. I catch it walking past his office, all sprawling bookshelves and windows, vast skylights overhead bringing in the light. I stop, turn, and look around.
At first, my eyes are fixed on the amazing landscape behind the glass, but then I see something on his desk. A black leather journal, still open, a thick silver pen thrown across it.
My feet move faster than my brain. I really shouldn't be in here, snooping, but when I see my name in black ink, there's no stopping it.
I pick up the journal and read:
Precious Amy Kay,
I'm in hell. Congratulations. You put me there six years ago when I couldn't come back.
Spent them all torturing myself.
I tried to deny it. Tried to blame you. Then I tried pinning it all on fucked up circumstance.
That elevator ride changed everything. More than when we smoothed things over later, even, that night in your room.
Lying was like gouging out my eyes, cutting out my tongue, stuffing my soul in a permanent hell.
Back in it, I should say.
I've tried to convince myself the worst was over for six fucking years. Swore up and down if it wasn't, then I'd make damn sure that changed after coming back, carpet bombing Jace, settling accounts.
I did all that.
It didn't do shit.
Pouring my heart out to you convinced me I didn't need to spend another night in Seattle to finish driving my vendetta through your brother's heart. I made my confession to you and left the note for your folks. I walked away.
I moved on one more time.
Trouble is, that trip showed me what I was really missing all these years, the reason I tried so hard to convince myself I wasn't stuck in a sea of flames.
You, Presh.
Entirely you.
You damned me to hell a long time ago. And I wen
t just like you wanted. You put me there.
That's the lie I told myself, anyway, but I know the real reason why I've been there for so long.
Me, Presh.
All me.
I did it the second I walked away, all those years ago, and took too many fucking years to make things right.
I still haven't finished. Not like I want.
“Move on,” I keep saying.
Now I know they're the emptiest words in the universe.
You proved it. You showed me how worthless those two words really are.
Because I can't walk away a second time.
Because I haven't been able to pry you out of my head the past two weeks I've been home.
Because maybe moving on is pure bullshit.
Maybe there's no moving on, no walking away, no going anywhere.
Not without you.
T
“Found what you need?”
I look up and almost jump out of my skin. Trent stands there in nothing but a towel, his gorgeous inked arms plush at his sides, eyeing me up and down.
“Oh, crap. I didn't mean...I mean I...”
“Precious, relax.” He steps closer and then just keeps coming. Not stopping until I'm enveloped in his broad shoulders, where everything always seems to be okay. “Should've put that damn thing away. Shouldn't have left it out in the open.”
“Trent, no. I read every word. It's beautiful.”
“It's something that was never meant for your eyes. Therapy, really.” His blue eyes flash like lightning.
He tries to kiss me, but I move my head away. “Come on. You're telling me you wouldn't have sent it?”
“No,” he barks. His grip on me tightens and amusement lights his gorgeous face. “I'd have delivered it in person. Probably next weekend, if you hadn't made your way here.”
“Ass!” He certainly is, but it doesn't keep my mouth off him.
I kiss him with the full might and fury of a woman thoroughly confused.
Not wanting to admit the same dormant love in my heart is alive again, singing in my soul, bending my lips to his today and forever, if we really can move on together.
