Page 32 of Mine

I grunted. “I don’t want anyone to hurt you, so I have to be ready. You’re my baby; I have to protect you.”

He rose then and walked to the front door, locked it and the deadbolt, and turned and looked at me. “I thought you could handle things on your own, that I wasn’t important.”

“But you know better than that,” I muttered, turning and walking away.

“What?” he called after me. “I didn’t hear you.”

I knew he hadn’t, and I walked deeper into our bedroom and climbed into bed. I didn’t stretch out, though, didn’t sink down into the pillow. He needed me; I couldn’t sleep yet.

“What did you say?” I heard his voice following behind me.

I rolled over on my back and looked at him, my eyes tracing over the lines of him, his flushed skin, wet lips, long eyelashes, and legs that went on forever.

“Come here for a second before you go,” I said, pretending that I had not seen him lock us in for the night.

He walked to the side of the bed.

I reached under the elastic waistband of my sweats and stroked my cock, feeling it harden with anticipation, the slither of arousal moving through me.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to take off all your clothes and get in bed with me.”

He gasped. “I thought you liked the boots.”

I grinned at him. Only Landry would get hung up on that. “Baby, I love the boots and I can’t wait to lick them some night when I’m remotely coherent, but right now I would give anything for a kiss.”

“You would?”

“I would.”

He stripped fast, pulling, yanking, and then he was straddling my thighs, knees on either side of my waist.

His shaft was hard, bumping against mine as I reached up with both hands for his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, the tears slipping down his cheeks. “I’m such an idiot and you must hate me and—”

“Never hate you.”

“Forgive me.”

“Forgiven,” I promised, easing him down, my lips parting to receive him.

He twitched and jolted like he did sometimes when he was really wound up, and slanted his mouth down roughly over mine, bumping me with his teeth, in a hurry, grinding into me. That fast there was blood, his teeth cutting my lip.

“Oh God, I’m—”

“It’s okay, baby,” I sighed, my voice sultry, his shallow breaths letting me know the effect I was having on him. “Just slow down and come here.”

The kiss I gave him was languid, drugging and deep. His lips fit mine perfectly, and when he moaned softly, hoarse and needy, I rolled him gently to his back, parted his legs, and slid my freed cock against his.

“Here.” He was breathless as he slipped the lube he had pulled from beneath his pillow into my hand.

I flipped the cap open, dribbled some on the ends of my fingers, and tenderly began making small circles at his entrance as I continued to make love to his mouth.

“Trevan,” he breathed out, bending his knees, giving me better access as I slowly breached him, my fingers pushing inside the tight ring of muscle, pressing, sliding. I was careful not to plunge them deep until I knew he was ready. He was always so tight, which was a continual source of pleasure for me.

When he lifted his hips, I added two fingers, three now plunging steadily inside, massaging, opening him up and making him slick, relaxed.