Her nipples, now hardened nubs, make my mouth water. Practically drooling, I take one into my mouth and suck with just the right amount of pressure, rubbing off against her thigh, never stopping the rhythm I’ve got going against her clit and in her tight ass.
The rhythmic clenching around my middle finger tells me she’s going over even before her groans and arching back do. I keep everything at the same pace, letting her increase the depth of my finger or the pressure on my thumb. The result is a beautiful woman giving way beneath me, the tension in her muscles peaking before she melts into the bed.
And it’s this, her long chocolate-brown hair in a tangle around her head, the satisfied flush on her cheeks, the glazed-over look in her eye, the spit-slicked nipple still pebbled with desire that finally pushes me over the edge. I add two fingers to my grind, strumming my clit as I come all over her thigh, then collapse onto her relaxed fucked-out body.
As our breathing settles, a dry chuckle shakes her tits. Mmph. I lean over and take her nipple into my mouth with a careful, soft suck.
“What’s so funny?” I breathe against the sensitive bud before taking it again.
She rolls her hips, clearly needing more attention, so I turn the heel of my hand to the side and slide it along her slick cunt, letting my fingers tickle her inner thigh while I rock up and down the length of her. She pushes against me, meeting pressure for pressure until that familiar pulsing accompanies a sharp shout. She rolls away from me, sensitive and shivering.
I wrap myself around her, whispering, “Tell me. What’s so funny?”
Breathing heavily, she gestures to the slick spot on her thigh. “Whoever called it dry-humping has clearly never had sex with a woman.”
I laugh, hugging her from behind, and slide my hand over her thigh, trailing my thumb through her soaked pussy.
“True enough.”
She adjusts again, flopping on her back before pulling me down into another lingering kiss. I straddle her thighs, laying open-mouthed kisses up and down her neck, dipping to her nipples and humping against her mound.
“Fuck, that’s so good,” she whispers, grabbing my thigh to angle me…just…fuckkk.
I press down as she arches up, rubbing our clits together, our combined wetness creating a kissing suction that’s making her eyes roll back in her head. My weak side folds after a minute, but she’s right there, holding it in place. Our eyes lock, and we build and build against each other, open-mouthed, panting, slicking against one another in this dirty bit of rubbing.
Her eyes roll back, and the eroticism of her orgasm, the soft and carnal way she’s giving herself over to me…sends me flying right along with her. We roll and push against each other until we’re both shaking and cursing and collapsing into one another.
“Holy fuck,” she says, flopping back, spread eagle, and breathing hard. “If this is you in recovery, I can’t wait till you’re back to full strength.”
“Nah,” I pant, then roll to kiss her. “This is all you.”
Chapter10
Kinley
Wakingup next to Mackenzie Nash has got to be some kind of unicorn situation. I don’t think we meant to fall asleep so quickly, but I’ve been running at about a hundred and fifty percent, and she’s recovering, so we both passed out against each other.
She says she wants to get to know me while she’s here, like maybe she’s wanting something a bit more long-term. But I know better than to take a person’s impassioned words seriously, especially when the person has been swinging through emotional extremes.
I assume when she wakes up, she’ll say whatever practiced thing she says to the women she sleeps with on the road. Something kind but distant. Sleeping together blurs the lines, and she’ll want to unblur them as quickly as possible.
Only…I kinda hope she doesn’t. She’s here for a while, and she’s a true artist. It’s clear that she doesn’t let too many others in, and now that I’ve seen this side of her, I can’t help but want more.
Not that she’s totally let me in. I am, however, peeking through the windows, and I like what I see. The thick-headedness that probably drives her physical therapist crazy is the same stubbornness that made her not give up on her dreams, even when any reasonable person would have. She doesn’t believe in failure, just a project that needs more time.
And God, I need more time with her.
I chuckle to myself, and she shifts next to me.
Her gentle, rhythmic breathing starts again, so I take advantage and really look. Her nose is perfectly straight and pert, her cheekbones are high and strong, her thick eyebrows are stunning, and when she opens her eyes, they show off her blues so beautifully. Hell, I’ve already waxed poetic about her hair a few times.
Her tattoos are abstract, surrealist, and mostly black and gray, with only hints of color here and there. Most people don’t get to see that she’s also got tattoos on her back, chest, belly, and thighs. It feels like they’re telling a story of struggle and hard-fought triumphs.
The sheet and blankets pool around her trim waist, and it’s hard not to admire her body. I do alright, but my tits are fighting a war against gravity, one they will eventually lose. Mac doesn’t have much on top, but she’s got the prettiest nipples, rosy and fat.
Not thinking, I lean in and take one in my mouth. Grabbing her side, I suck lightly, turning myself on as I do. Her hand comes to the back of my head, pressing me closer, accompanied by a pleasured moan.
“I fucking love waking up to having some part of me sucked,” she says, grinning.
