Just this once… enjoy it.
Zane kissed his way down my neck as he made love to me, rocking my body slowly and deliberately beneath his. He was buried achingly deep. Crushing me wonderfully beneath his gorgeous body, but supporting the bulk of his weight on his two corded arms.
His lips left my neck. Everywhere they touched my skin they brought it to goosebumps. He dragged them slowly downward. Kissing some more, until he reached my right shoulder…
Alarm bells flashed in my head. My body stiffened.
Then he was kissing my scar.
It was an ugly thing; all white on pink. A starburst of smooth, fibrous tissue that extended outward in every direction. I waited for the inevitable questions: What is this? How’d you get it?
Instead, Zane kept on kissing me. Touching me. Making love to me, as if nothing happened.
Then his lips passed lower, and then lower still, until they closed over one stiff nipple. My body relaxed. My hands sifted through his soft blond hair, pulling him into me. Spreading my legs even wider, to take him as deep as he wanted.
God, I’ve missed this…
I moaned into my lover’s mouth as we continued screwing. Kissing. Grinding.
It’s been so, so long.
Minute after minute he thrust slowly in and out of me, holding me with his entire body. Not changing positions because the position was perfect, until finally clenching his jaw in ecstasy as he thumped and pulsed and flooded me with his seed.
Screaming his name, I came with him.
Twenty-Seven
SAVANNAH
“So you’re not from here either? A transplant, like me?”
We were lounging in bed, cuddled up in the filtered moonlight. Talking about anything. Everything.
Almost, anyway.
“I’m originally from Portsmouth,” Zane answered softly. “I left early, though. My father ran off, my mom remarried. My only siblings were step-siblings, and I never really got to know them. The whole stepdad thing never took, not that they had much time for me anyway.”
“Aww. That’s terrible.”
“Yeah. It’s alright. I was barely home to begin with. Always out doing stuff.” He shifted, cradling me closer against his warm, hard body. “I took a bunch of odd jobs that kept me busy. Even tried community college, but changed my major three times before I called it quits.”
He was tracing his fingertips over the curve of my body, from hip to shoulder. Every time he dragged them lightly along my rib cage, I squirmed into him.
“My mother called me a restless soul,” Zane finished. “Probably just to absolve herself of responsibility, being that she was ignoring me anyway. But she was also right.”
“Where’d you work?”
“I did roofing in the summer, and painting when the weather got cold. Eventually I signed onto a few fishing boats, mostly charters. I enjoyed the people. I liked being outdoors, too.”
I snuggled into him, kissing his chest softly. “But?”
“Same thing as always,” he shrugged. “I got bored of it fast. Either it’s in your blood or its not, and those fishermen take that stuff pretty serious. I left Gloucester one day and wandered down here. And I never looked back.”
“Until the next time you’re bored,” I teased.
Zane chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. Till’ next time.”
He pulled me tighter, skin against skin. I felt ridiculously comfortable, secure in his arms. Like I was made to be held like this.