Page 46 of Taken With You

~Meadow, journal entry

Meadow

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, and I obeyed, arching my back as I slowly slipped my hands up my body to cup my breasts. I rolled my nipples between my fingers, my eyes on his as he slowly worked his cock in and out of me.

“More,” I whispered.

I needed more.

He grinned, his hands on my hips as he continued to work his dick in and out of my tight sheath.

“We’re going to break your table if I go any harder,” he drawled, and I grinned harder, slowly playing with my nipples.

He loved when I touched myself, just like I loved when he did the same. The day before, I had been in the shower, getting myself off with my showerhead as he stood outside the door, working himself with his hand. We had both come, calling out each other’s names, and then he was down on his knees as the water cooled around us, getting me off once again with his mouth.

His beard between my thighs was the best sensation ever. I was a very wicked woman. And I loved every minute of it.

“I can get a new table,” I panted, letting go of my breasts. I reached out, slamming my hands down on his chest, though it wasn’t easy since he was too far away from me to really grab on to.

“Beckham,” I whispered. “Please.”

He leaned over me, a smirk reaching his eyes. I loved when he looked at me like that. It was so sexy, even though it shouldn’t be. On anyone else, it would be a horrible thing that would make me roll my eyes and walk away. Prove the size of their ego. On him? It was perfect.

“Okay, cupcake. You asked for it.”

He thrust once, hard, and I groaned. “Don’t”—thrust—“call”—thrust—“me”—another thrust—“cupcake.”

He stilled and then moved faster. His lips were on mine, my hands on his back as he slowly worked in and out of me before going faster and reaching a crescendo that sent us both over the edge. The table made a pained noise, and I winced as it shook beneath us. When one table leg creaked so loudly I was afraid it might snap, I pushed him off me, even as he kept moving. He simply rolled his eyes, gripped my hips, and somehow lifted me while continuing to thrust.

The strength of the man almost made me come immediately.

But I held on, gripping his shoulders as he pumped in and out of me as fast as he could, even as we were standing. When I slid one hand between us, slowly flicking my clit, he grunted, coming inside me as I clamped his dick with my orgasm.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, and I laughed.

“Well, I guess you were right about the table.” He squeezed my ass with one hand and slapped my hip with the other.

“We were going to break it one day,” he said before slowly sliding out of me.

He reached for a towel and cleaned us up, and then I stood beside him in my kitchen, shaking my head.

“I probably do need a new table.”

“Before you get one, we’ll make sure we break this one in just right.”

“By ‘break in,’ you mean break completely?”

“Probably. You doing okay, cupcake?”

I reached between us and squeezed his balls until his eyes crossed.

“What did I say about calling me cupcake?”

“That I shouldn’t? I don’t know. I like it when you get all fiery and feisty on me. It’s kind of a turn-on.”

“We are late for dinner with our friends. You know Brendon’s working the bar, and you can’t mock him if you aren’t there.”

His eyebrows shot up, and I laughed.