Our bodies moved together, and even though we wanted it to last, it was impossible. Beck thrust hard into me, paused, and then kissed me.
"I'm close, Beck." I writhed beneath him. "Give me everything you've got."
"Oh, Clara." He pressed into his hands and his abs popped. His thrusts were powerful enough to shift the solid log bed. I tossed my head back and let the pleasure of his power roll through me. His body was hitting all the right places.
"Oh, Beck." It started with a murmur. As the wave of my orgasm rose and fell, my voice followed its cues. "Beck, fuck, you feel so good."
"Clara, you're so tight. You're so beautiful. You're so damn…"
He threw his head back and shuddered as he came. I grabbed his ass, and with his next thrust, my wave finally crested. The orgasm rushed from between my legs, down to my toes, and up to the crown of my head.
Beck dropped on top of me, panting. I kissed his ear. "That was better than I imagined."
"Same." He could barely get the words out. "Now, get a drink of water." He rolled off me.
"Why?"
"Because we're going to do it again."
14
BECK
I blinkedat the wooden beams of the ceiling. It took me a few seconds to figure out where I was. Dash was sprawled across my shins, and his tail started wagging against the quilt the second he realized I was awake.
"Morning, you jerk," I mumbled. Sometime in the night, the sneaky dog had abandoned his bed by the fire and made himself at home right between us.
Clara was already in the kitchen. "Are you talking to my dog?"
"He's a bed hog. I'm alright with your hair in my face, but I think I’m still pulling Dash’s fur out of my mouth."
"He likes to be the little spoon," she giggled. She walked to the side of the bed wearing my oversized flannel shirt and nothing else, save for a pair of wool socks pulled up to her knees. "Breakfast is almost ready."
I propped myself on my elbows. "You cook?"
"Don't sound so surprised. I've learned a few things in fifteen years."
"What have you got on under there?" I slid my hand up her bare thigh, my fingertips meeting nothing but skin. It didn'tdo anything to help my raging morning wood. My body was exhausted, but my cock hadn't gotten the memo; he stood tall and hard beneath the twisted blankets.
"Save that for after breakfast." She smacked my hand with the spatula.
"Ow." I pretended it hurt.
I dragged myself out from under the covers and padded across the cabin. Birch logs crackled in the wood-stove, and the room was nice and warm. Clara stood at the two-burner stove shifting pancakes around a cast-iron pan while a French press sat on the counter.
"This is blissful,” I said, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. She leaned into me, and I buried my face in her neck. It felt good to not have anywhere else to be.
She turned in my arms and rested her palm over my dick. "What's the saying? A lady in the kitchen and a freak in the sheets?"
Clara squealed as I lifted her onto the counter and the spatula dropped to the floor. My fingers slipped under the hem of the plaid shirt. "How about a freak in the kitchen and we have pancakes in bed?"
A moan escaped her lips as I slipped a finger inside her. "That's not how that saying goes." Her head dropped back as I worked her with my thumb. "The pancakes..." she murmured.
"Let them fucking burn." I pulled her to the edge of the counter and buried my face between her legs.
Her fingertips dug into my hair, and her body rocked as I worked to bring her to the brink. Her legs shook next to my ears, and I knew she was close when she grabbed fistfuls of my hair. "Beck. Oh, my god." She ground her body against my face, slick and hot, then she stiffened, every muscle contracting as she screamed my name. "Beck. Don't fucking stop." I obeyed until she finally fell limp against the backsplash.
I grabbed the spatula from the floor, gave it a quick rinse in the sink, and flipped the pancakes just in time. She slid off the counter top. Looking at the utensil in my hand, I couldn’t stop myself. I lifted the corner of the shirt and gave her a quick smack on the ass with the spatula.
