Most Rikki-Tik

by MariaLisa deMora

  He sucked in another breath, finding it easier than the first, muscles relaxing. Her shoulders shook and she chuckled sleepily. “Hey there, soldier.”

  Pressing closer, he angled a knee up, taking her leg with him. Pelvis nestled tight against her ass, Kirby let out a sigh. “Ma’am.”

  She snuggled backwards, erasing any remaining distance separating them. “Can I tell you a story?” Dana sounded uncertain, and Kirby found he didn’t like how it made him feel, wanting to put her at ease immediately.

  “Sure. I love a good story.” He drew a small circle on her neck with the tip of his nose. “I’m awake now anyway.”

  Tensing, she asked, “You want me gone?”

  “God, no,” he blurted, arms tightening around her instinctively. “I like you here, Dana.”

  Muscles relaxing, she slumped back against his chest. “Good. I like being here.”

  She was quiet for a moment, so he asked, “Was that the story?”

  A low giggle, then her soft whisper, “No. You have to let me tell it my way. Don’t…just let me tell it, okay?”

  “Okay.” He paused, then asked, “Can I say something before you start?” He had an idea this story wended back into the past, and he wanted to give her something to hold to as she told him whatever she thought he needed to hear. She nodded, and he stretched up until he could press his cheek to hers. “Stay the night with me. No matter what comes next, I want you here, Dana. It matters to me.”

  “I will,” she promised, and he gave her a squeeze, then subsided to the pillow behind her, waiting. She pulled in a deep, deep breath, and he felt her get still as she blew it back out slowly. She’s nervous. “A long time ago a girl loved summers more than anything in the world.” He smiled at her whimsical beginning, spinning it like a fairy tale in the making. “Not because those months were situated between the school years, giving her a break, but because of what summertime meant to her.” Her voice was soft, wavering slightly, and he focused to catch every word. “Middle of every summer gave her a glimpse into what a real family looked like. How it felt to be loved for who she was. She and her sister didn’t have the same father, see, and her mother’s new husband hadn’t been a fan of her old husband, which meant he didn’t like the girl very much. But her father’s family loved her very much, and two weeks out of each summer she got to spend time in this tiny Texas town. A far cry from where her family lived in Los Angeles. Stepping off the plane was like taking a leap back in time, and she loved it.” He found her hand with his and gripped it, threading their fingers together. “There was a lot of good in that tiny town, but the thing she loved most about it, other than her family, was this boy. Every summer she’d hold her breath until he saw her, because the way his face would light up was enough to hold her through a year’s worth of being told how unworthy she was.”

  “What the fuck?” Kirby pushed up on an elbow. “You never said anything about that, Dana. I’d have talked to your grandma or grandpa for you.”

  “You promised to let me tell this my way,” she reminded him, head turned so her face was hidden. “Please, Kirby?”

  “I’ll agree if you let me bitch about it later,” he grumbled as he lay back down. He took a deep breath, relaxed deliberately by wrapping his arm around her tighter, then gave her the go-ahead to continue. “Okay.”

  “God, you’re so good to me.” She laughed softly. “Okay, where was I?”

  “Where your stepdad was a dickhead and your mom didn’t do a thing to make him not be a dickhead.” He heard the bite in his own voice and toned it down. “And how you liked that boy you saw in the summertime.”

  “Ah, yes. The boy. My summertime boy. We’re getting to my favorite part.” She paused and flexed her fingers, then tightened her grip on his hand before she pulled it up to rest between her breasts. He sighed and she chuffed a laugh again. “I did like him. More than he knew. See, where I lived, kids grew up fast. Too fast. Meanwhile, he was in this gorgeous town I loved, aging at a country rate. He knew a lot about a lot of things, but one thing he didn’t know about was girls. The year I turned thirteen, he was seventeen and about to enter his last year of school. I’d already had two boyfriends at that point, neither of which measured up to my summertime boy, and he’d never had a girlfriend. I knew because I asked. It didn’t matter, though. Because he didn’t see me like I saw him.”

  “He did, but you were too young.” Kirby’s mouth was dry, nerves cutting through his chest like bullets. “It was wrong for me to look at you like I wanted to.”

  “I know that now. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt at the time.” Her head dipped, and her lips pressed gently on his knuckles, heat from her breath warming them. “The stars weren’t aligned for us back then.”

  Kirby steadied his breathing, focusing on how her heartbeat pounded under the press of his hand. “Are they now, Dana?” He propped himself up, arm locked to hold him in place as he shook free of her grip and stretched out his other hand. He touched her jaw and turned her to face him. For the first time since he’d moved in, he wished for a room with windows, something that would let light in, giving him a chance to decipher the expression on her face. All he had was the tiny glow of his phone across the room, and it cast more shadows than illumination. “If I told you I saw you then, that I see you now, would that matter?”

  She rolled then, freeing her arms to reach up and twine around his neck. Hand cupping the back of his head gently, she pulled him down. Just before their lips met, she answered his question with something that was so Dana, exactly the girl she’d been now grown into the woman she was, and surprisingly, all his. “Duh. What do you think, Kirby-cat?”

  Sweetly scented breath gusted over his lips, and then his mouth was on her, owning her the way he’d dreamed of, drawing tiny gasps from her. He angled his head and took more, working from side to side with lips and teeth, nipping and kissing his way to the corner of her mouth and across her cheek. Softly, he told her his dearest wish, body tingling with the knowledge he was holding her, finally; lying beside her, finally, and kissing her. Fucking finally. “I want you, Dana. Wanna make love to you.” Teeth tugging on the lobe of her ear, he murmured, “Wanna hold you and eat you and fuck you.” Her groan was music to his ears, and he smiled at the sound. “That a yes, sweetheart?”

  “God, yes,” she returned, her face turning to bury against his neck. “I want that too. Kirby, I’ve wanted you for so long.” Her body was moving, hips lifting, back arching to press her breasts against his chest as Kirby kissed down the elegant column of her neck, mouthing at the juncture with her shoulder.

  Tiny straps supported the pj top she’d worn to bed, and he eased them down her arms one at a time, giving himself unfettered access to an expanse of skin that felt smooth to his touch, strong muscles stretched over good bones, all making up the beautiful woman in his arms.

  “Here,” she muttered, sliding partway out from under him. “Let me help.”

  Arms crossed over her chest, she gripped the hem in each hand and lifted until Kirby had to catch his breath because perfection was spread out across his sheets. Dana tossed the garment to the side, and Kirby bent his neck, lifting a breast to his mouth. Sipping at the taut nipple, he rolled it between his teeth gently, giving her the heated breath from within his chest one moment, followed by a cool draft drawn through his lips. Then he latched deep, drawing hard, listening to the deep moan she let loose, telling him he was doing everything right for her.

  Kirby returned to her mouth for another deep drink, teasing her lips apart to dip inside, drawing her into a response, conducting an intense campaign of sensual attacks, tongues sliding together in a sweet caress. She lifted her chin, offering, and he took every inch, deepening the kiss until their breathing was ragged and rushed. He’d kept one hand on her breast, kneading and plumping it gently, fingers tightening around the flesh when she’d nipped at his bottom lip, teeth grasping as his fingertips tweaked and pinched. “Dana, you feel so good.”

  �
�Likewise,” she whispered, her palms curling around his hips, one arm going high and one low, fingernails scraping along his shoulder blade as her other hand slipped under the waistband of his briefs. “Um. I didn’t come prepared. This is kind of an impromptu pajama party.” Her soft admission told him a lot. These nights spent with him, in his bed, up to this point they’d had a different meaning, a way for her to be close to him without pressuring for more. She hadn’t known how each night had been sweet torture for him, dick so hard it hurt, leaking puddles on his stomach as they lay separated by layers of fabric. He’d imagined it was on him alone, that she’d done it as a friend, but now he knew different.

  Using his toes to push up farther on the mattress, he stretched across her, trying to ignore how her fingers came to rest on his sides, thumbs grazing his ribs as if she were counting the bones. Drawer opened, then closed, and he coiled back on himself, flashing the wrapped condom at her with a smile. “I’ve got us covered.” The grin she gave him was barely visible in the uncertain light, but he could see her eyes shining. He pressed the package into her hand. “You hold on to that, okay? I’ve got somewhere to be first.”

  Her head tipped to one side, and he watched her smile dim, slowly fading. Before it was gone completely, he reached down and drew one side of her panties most of the way down her thigh. Angling himself away, he worked the same actions on the other side, grinning at her when she bent her knees, tangling her toes in the fabric to pull it down. Panties removed and tossed to the floor, he kicked the covers off, slipped between her legs and worked his way backwards. Mouth to the side of her breast, he sucked hard, smiling victoriously at the mark left behind when he pulled off. Her other breast was given the same treatment, and he tipped his chin up to smile at her, letting her touch trail across his face, reading his features like Braille. “I want you, Dana.”

  “We’ve both wanted for so long,” she returned, and he pressed his lips to her palm. She stroked her thumb across his lips, a gentle smile on her face. “This is the only place I want to be. Right here, right now, with you.”

  “A man like me?” His question sparked laughter and she filled the room with easygoing amusement. The way her belly quivered reminded him of his destination, so he told her, “Hold that thought. We can talk later.”

  Bending his neck, he placed a row of kisses along her hipbone, underlining each with a caress from his tongue, hands slipping under her ass to steady and lift her. Kirby worked his way across, listening to her breathing, to the tiny sounds she made, paying attention to her tug and pull in his hair until he was there, at her core.

  He savored her taste, mouth covering her while he made a meal out of her, eating and sucking, tongue delving between folds of flesh to plunge inside, then up again as he diddled her pearl, already sensitive enough to have her gasping for breath, groaning his name. “Bend your knees, baby,” he told her and spread her wide. He dropped his chest and pushed farther down that sensitive seam, teasing her dark pucker, twirling the tip of his tongue around and around.

  Hands moving, he circled her other entrance with a fingertip once, twice, timing it with his assault on her ass so he breached the openings at the same time, finger diving deep inside, tongue thrusting and teasing. Thumb on her clit, he persisted in ramping up the sensations overwhelming her, ignoring the sting of her fists in his hair.

  She wasn’t trying to guide him now, wasn’t pulling or pushing. Dana was just holding on as the wave he’d been building in her broke and crashed over her. It tumbled her under as her body rolled with it, hips rising in movement as her stomach went concave, legs tightening around his shoulders.

  He slowed his assault, touching her tenderly, laving her with the flat of his tongue softly, working his face back and forth, wanting her scent all over him, as much as he could manage. It was minutes before her grip on him eased, and Kirby worked her through each wave of sensation, wanting her boneless at the end, sated in a way he hoped she’d never experienced before.

  He wanted this to mean something to her, to be memorable, for them to talk about it so he wouldn’t lose it. That was one of his greatest fears, that something this profound and life-changing would be discarded by his traitorous brain as inconsequential, lost forever in the damaged places that existed in his disloyal head.

  Eventually he shifted, moving up her body in a reverse of how he’d moved down, pausing to worship along the way. He left a path of kisses and nips, touches, caressing every inch. Rising over her, he stared in wonder. She lay beneath him, hair mussed in a wild mass around her head, features soft, the smile that graced her lips extending to her eyes, crinkling the corners. Even in the low light, he could see the satisfied gleam and smiled broadly.

  She chuckled, asking, “Pretty proud of yourself?” He nodded, shifted to one arm, and lifted a corner of the sheet to wipe his face. “Kiss me, handsome.” She pursed her lips, waiting, and he didn’t hesitate, curving down, continuing his open-mouthed offensive, and he groaned when she met him with eagerness, lapping at his lips before biting at him with a terrible impression of a growl.

  He pulled back, taking in everything she offered. “You still want me?”

  Her smile would have been answer enough, but she laughed softly before locking her arms behind his back, hands curving over his shoulders to lift her up. Mouth to his, she promised, “More than yesterday, but not as much as tomorrow.” She paused; then he felt her lips move against his and knew it was a smile when she giggled, the sound light and free. “I kinda lost the condom in the bed when you hit me with those magic moves.”

  Laughing with her, he ran his hand down her side, finding the crinkling package before he pulled away and sat up, kneeling between her thighs. He ran one hand along her stomach to her breasts, caressing them in turn while he opened the condom. Palm to her belly, he stroked and rubbed, distracting himself by petting her silky skin.

  Condom finally in place, he didn’t discount her words from moments ago, honoring the promise of them by covering her with his body. She reached down and grasped hold of him, heat from her hand scarcely muted by the latex, but he was thankful for even that, wanting this to last. Another breath and she had him positioned, and Kirby started the first slow glide into her, gasping aloud at how good she felt, tight and hot around him, strength covered by silken flesh.

  “Jesus, Dana,” was all he could manage, the words pouring from his brain not making sense to his tongue, but she understood, oh how she understood, because she took up the torch, voice and words matching the cadence of his movements, narrating their experience to help cement it.

  “God, yes, Kirby. So big, you’re so big, baby. I can take you, take all of you.” She gasped and her hips leapt up, muscles clamping down on him as she shuddered. Not pain, but something else that made him preen a little. “Holy Jesus, right there. Can you do that again?” He chuckled and pulled out slightly before clenching his stomach muscles, jerking his cock inside her. “Oh my Jesus, that’s so…please, honey. That’s you, inside me. I love how that feels, knowing we’re here together.” He did it again, and her head flew back, chin angled up at the ceiling as she cried out. “Kirby, you’re gonna make me…” She lifted her head and stared at him. “I’ve never…not from just having…it’s you, Kirby. It’s you giving this to me. God.”

  Neck bent to look down their joined bodies, he watched himself plunge in and out, hips moving smoothly, meeting the rising push from her trembling legs. He fucked her hard, grinding against her with every inward thrust. She tightened around him in pulses, tiny flutters growing larger, until it felt like her body was drawing him in as her nails scored up his back. “God, Dana.” He shifted, wedging her legs wider, finding a new rhythm that began to devolve the rigid grip he had on his control. “Baby, you’re perfect.”

  Kirby leaned down, placing his forehead against hers, salt stinging his eyes as he watched this woman come unraveled in his arms, giving herself over to the sensations again sweeping her body. Their bellies slipped and slid, sweat-we
t in the best way, and as she came around him, pulling him deeper, he loosened the remaining hold he had, letting his hips buck against her hard, harder, trusting he couldn’t break her, that she was strong enough, that she wanted all of him, as she’d promised.

  He thrust deep, grinding. Then his neck arched, lifting his head as his spine bowed. Toes of his good foot curling into the sheets, he drove forwards forcefully, whole body movements now, muscles locked tight as he came hard, heat flooding around the head of his cock, her hands smoothing and soothing across the planes of his back, caressing skin where she could touch, her reach feeling like it went deeper somehow, digging deep, curling around his heart, warming him from the inside out.

  “This,” he gasped, and she made a sound that could have been a question. “This is everything I ever wanted. You, Dana. In my head, in my heart, it’s always been you.”

  “My summertime boy,” she whispered, her lips grazing up his neck as he brought his head down. Mouth to hers, he gave himself over to her, letting her lead the way this time with gentle plucks and smacks, tiny kisses that stunned him with the emotion they released, like they circled his head to hold everything inside, letting him keep all that happened, at least for now. “My lovely, sweet summertime boy.” Her head angled to the side, and the glow from his phone shone brighter on her face until he could see all the worry lines had fallen away. Her features were relaxed, brow smooth, and she looked content. Happy, even. She looked loved. I gave that to her. “Merry Christmas, Kirby-cat.”

  He glanced over to see it was past three, well into the early morning. “Merry Christmas,” he returned, then paused. Now or later? He studied her face a moment, made a decision, and asked, “Can I give you my gift?”