Whiskey Moon

Dragging my tongue along the fabric, I feel her writhe and watch her stomach cave as she gets comfortable. Gripping the lace fabric, I drag her panties down her long legs, tasting her inner thighs on the way. The scent of her arousal fills the air, just as addictive as the first time. I’d always thought of it as personal because it was only ever for me.

I climb over her, running my mouth on hers before taking another greedy kiss. Hard and soft. Fast and slow. The tip of my cock against her bare skin. The sweet moans escaping her swollen lips when we come up for air. I don’t know how I’ve lived without this for ten fucking years.

She slides her arm around my shoulder, her hips bucking beneath me, impatient.

“I don’t want this night to end,” she whispers into my ear.

I bury my face into the bend of her neck, breathing her in, and I run my palms down her sides before gripping a handful of her perfect ass. Rising, I scoop her into my arms. Her chest rises and falls, her pointed nipples begging for attention.

Holding her tight, I slide her thighs up my sides before carrying her back to the bed. I lie back and she straddles my hips, her hand gripping my cock with slow, steady passes as our eyes lock.

“I don’t have a condom,” I say when she teases the tip against her clit.

“I don’t either.” She bites her lip, “But I’m on the pill …”

Cupping her perfect tits, I sit up, taking the left nipple gently between my teeth before swirling my tongue along the dark pink flesh. Blaire tosses her head back, grinding against me. Gathering her hair in my hand, I direct her mouth to mine as she lowers herself onto my cock.

Her lips part with a tempered sigh as she accepts me inch by inch, until all of me is filling all of her. Rocking back and forth, she rides me soft, slow, then faster. Leaning back, she runs her hands through her hair, eyes closed, mouth open and wanton, breasts bouncing with each impalement.

I thrust against her hips, driving myself deeper inside of her.

She stops grinding for a moment, her hands pressed against my chest, and she leans down to steal a kiss. I brush a loose lock of hair from her forehead and trace my thumb along her jaw.

“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I tell her.

Leaning back, she circles her hips before riding me again. Eyes squeezed tight, lip bitten, she’s getting close.

I circle my thumb against her clit as she screams out, fucking me harder with each buck. The tingling in my groin is followed by a full release as I cum inside her pulsing sex. When it’s over, she collapses on top of me, her hair splayed out over my shoulders and her heart beating wild against mine.

“Oh my god,” she says, breathless. Her lips find mine and her lips spread into a satisfied smile. “That was … almost worth the wait.”

“Almost?”

“I’d have preferred not to wait at all,” she says with a wink before climbing off of me. I steal a glimpse of her perfect peach-shaped ass, her creamy skin still covered in red handprints. She trots off to the bathroom, returning a minute later and scouring her clothes from the floor.

“Stay the night,” I say.

She peeks over an armful of clothes. “Really?”

I sit up, resting on my elbows. “Maybe I want to pretend a little more.”

Blaire drops the clothes on the ground, sauntering back to bed, and I pull the covers up so she can climb in beside me. Curling against my side, she buries her face against my shoulder and rests her arm across me.

If every night could be like this, I’d die a happy man.

“Can I tell you something?” she asks as I run my fingers through her hair.

“Yeah.”

A sorrowful sigh passes between her lips. “For a while there, I forgot we were pretending.”

I force a hard breath through my nose. “Me too.”

23

Blaire

* * *

We cruise back to town Saturday morning before the sun is up. We’ve yet to say more than a handful of words, but who needs them when my head is on his shoulder and his hand is on my thigh and there’s a delicious soreness between my thighs reminding me that last night was real. Actions speak louder, and these actions say it all.

Wyatt made love to me. He held me in his arms all night, like no time had passed, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Drive a little slower.” I nuzzle against his arm, taking in his addictive natural scent. Even the subtle musk of his unwashed hair is intoxicating. “I don’t want this to end.”

I close my eyes and live in this moment—truly live here. And I catalog all of it into a mental scrapbook so I can come back to it any time I need.