Easy Melody (Boudreaux 3)

I can’t wait.

“Mmm, me too,” I reply and slide my hand down her side to her hip and grin against her neck when she opens her legs, silently asking for my fingers to slide into her and drive her crazy.

But I have other plans.

I cover her, my body touching hers, and slide down, kissing every inch of her as I go. Her hands plunge into my hair, her fingers threading through the strands and not pushing me, rather just holding on tight as my mouth plays her skin like an instrument.

“You’re good at that,” she breathes. Her hips shift, pressing against me, trying to ease the throbbing there.

“You taste good,” I reply and nudge the piercing in her navel with my nose, then place open-mouthed kisses down her lower stomach, over her pubis, and finally lick over her clit, down to her opening, and take as much of it as I can into my mouth, moving my head back and forth slowly, devouring her.

“Oh, my God,” she moans, pulling her knees back to give me more access to her. I groan against her and suck her lips into my mouth, and slowly fuck her with my tongue. I press my thumb on her clit, and she pushes up on her elbows, watching me. Her eyes are still glassy with sleep and lust, and she’s pulling on one of her nipples, which only makes my cock throb harder.

Jesus.

I want to fuck the hell out of her, just pound her into the mattress until she can’t remember her own name, but that’s not how this morning is going to go.

I reach up and slide my hand under hers, tweaking that nipple myself, and grin against her pussy as she lies back down with a long, satisfied groan.

I fucking love the way she sounds.

I move up and concentrate on her clit while pushing two fingers inside her, and watch in rapture as she pushes her hips against me and the orgasm gathers so tightly that she’s blind with it.

She lets go and calls out as it moves through her. The muscles in her core tighten like a vice around my fingers, and as she relaxes back against the bed once more, I kiss my way back up her gorgeous body and simply slide right inside her, making her gasp once again.

Her muscles ripple around me, making me sigh and tip my forehead against hers. She wraps her arms and legs around me. “Roll us over,” she whispers.

I immediately comply and suddenly she’s sitting on me, and she takes over, riding me in slow, deliberate strokes. She sits up straight, reaches behind her to cup my balls in her hand, and I swear to Christ my eyes cross as she grinds down on me and squeezes: her hand, her pussy, her thighs.

“Oh my God, Callie,” I growl and grip her hips tightly, and then take over, guiding her up and down.

“No fair,” she pouts, but then sighs as I lift my hips to meet hers. “Oh God, that’s deep.”

And yet, it never feels deep enough.

She braces her hands on my chest and surrenders to the ride, moving those hips in sync with mine, until we both come so hard I’m pretty sure the house has folded in around us.

She collapses on top of me, panting. My hands glide down her back to her ass, and we lie like this, me still seated deep inside her.

“God, I love you, Callie.”

She stills, and then jerks her head back to look at me with wide, tear-filled blue eyes.

“What’s wrong? That makes you sad?” I ask as I wrap my arms around her and hug her close, completely confused as to why she’s crying.

“No,” she replies and buries her face in my neck, clinging to me. “It’s just, I said it once before and you didn’t say it back.” She sniffs. “I thought I screwed up and made everything weird.”

“You mean when we made love that morning?” I ask, brushing her hair off her face. She nods and sniffs.

“I said it back,” I reply and turn us onto our sides so I can see her better. “I’ve been saying it, every day.”

She frowns, not understanding.

“When I hold your hand and squeeze?”

“You squeeze three times,” she says, nodding. “Your mom said it means something.”

“It means I love you,” I reply and kiss her forehead. “My dad used to do it to Mom and us kids because he wasn’t always good with the words.”

“I like it,” she says with a watery smile. “I like it a lot, actually. But I like the words too.”

“Ah, baby, I’m sorry. Callie, I’m so in love with you I can’t see straight.”

“I love you, too,” she whispers.

“I’m in love with all of our little things,” I say softly, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“They’re not so little,” she replies, and grins.

“I love the big things, too,” I say and simply stare into her eyes. She nods and yawns happily, cuddled up beside me.

“Can we do this all day?” she asks.

“What, have sex? I suppose, but I need to catch my breath, baby.”

She giggles. “No, stay in bed.”

“Most of the day, but we have dinner at Mama’s house tonight.”

She nods happily. “Okay.” She shifts her legs and grimaces. “I need a shower. I’m sticky.”

“Good idea.” I scoop her up and stalk into the bathroom, start the shower, and set her in the tub, climbing in after her. “I love your body.”

“I love your body,” she replies and grabs the soap, lathers up a wash cloth, and begins cleaning me up. “I love your chest and arms. The muscles are defined perfectly.” She glides her hands over me. “Your abs are perfect. Hard, but not airbrushed.”

I bark out a laugh, and then swallow thickly when she moves down to my semi-hard cock.