Never Standing Still (The Never Duet #1)(61)
His hand came up to push my hair from my face, threading through, then landed on the back of my neck as he gripped me firmly and pulled my face to his.
“Jesus, Kalli,” he said, holding me still, pulling me down onto him, and forcing me to take him so deep. “God, I love you,” he said, his forehead pressing into mine, then kissing me seconds later.
I rotated my hips, grinding down onto him, gasping as the direct friction against my clit sent electricity through my body. “I love you, too,” I moaned quietly, rocking back and forth on his cock, afraid to lose the connection, afraid if I backed off him one centimeter I’d never feel that close to him again. “Promise me,” I rasped, shamelessly using his body to bring pleasure to mine, throwing years of worry and constant fear away, letting all my walls down. “Promise you’ll never leave me.” I said the words with both hands clasped to the sides of his face, eyes looking directly into his, voice hitched, breathing ragged.
“Never,” he growled, pulling on my hips, matching my rhythm, doing his part to bring me to orgasm. “You’re a f*cking part of me, Kal.” His words sent me over the edge, caused every muscle to contract, squeezing him, then release as a loud moan escaped me and my head fell back.
Mid-orgasm, his lifted me up and placed me back on the bed, positioned one of my legs over his shoulder, and then entered me again, but achingly slowly. He eased in, inch by inch, drawing out my orgasm, filling me completely. Once I’d come all the way down, he pulled out and stroked back in, his eyes glued to where our bodies connected, one hand running up and down my thigh at his side, the other holding on to my waist.
I couldn’t watch, the sensations taking over, so I closed my eyes, wanting just to feel him. With my fingers gripping the sheets below me, feeling him pumping in and out, his hands gripping my ass to bring me to just the right angle, and all the sexy groans he was making, my body was in overdrive.
“Fucking Christ….” I heard him mutter as he thrust one last time. When he finally pulled out, he collapsed on the bed next to me, pulling me in to his side, breathing heavy with a sexy grin on his face.
“You look mighty pleased with yourself,” I managed after I’d caught my breath.
“Oh, I’m pleased all right. But I’m more pleased with you than anyone else.”
“Is that so?” I asked, smiling while trailing my finger in small circles over the damp skin of his chest.
“Baby, I’ve spent weeks fantasizing about getting back inside of you, but you just blew all my fantasies out of the water. Nothing compares to watching you ride me, feeling your tits up against my chest.”
“Tits?” I scoffed, pretending to be offended by the term.
“You don’t like the word tits?”
“It’s a little objectifying, don’t you think? I mean, they’re my breasts.” I waved my free hand over them, trying to emphasize my point.
“Babe, they can be your breasts any other time, but when I’m inside you, they’re tits.”
“So, I can only call it your cock when we’re having sex?” I asked, trying not to laugh.
“Feel free to refer to my cock whenever you want.” I laughed as he placed a quick kiss against my lips and then hopped out of bed, pulled on some workout shorts, and quietly snuck to the bathroom to clean up. When he returned, he slid back into bed, pulling my back to his front and wrapping his arm around my middle.
“All jokes aside,” he said quietly as he twined his fingers with mine at my belly, “I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve missed you more than I could have ever imagined.”
My heart swelled at his words, knowing it was perhaps rare to find a guy who was so forthcoming with his emotions, so open to discussing how he felt or what I meant to him. It was becoming more obvious each day I spent with him, either in person or from a distance, that Riot Bentley was not a typical man. It had also become clear to me I was a very lucky woman to have him, so I snuggled in deeper and replied, “I missed you, too.”
Chapter Seventeen
Accepting Help
Riot returned from his scheduled workout to an anxious and hyper Marcus, jumping up and down, begging Riot to hurry so we could leave for Legoland. Riot moved at warp speed, showering and dressing faster than anyone I’d ever seen, and in minutes we were in the car, heading south. Marcus was occupied in the car by a tablet and I was happy just to sit in the passenger seat with Riot’s fingers laced through mine.
Legoland was a sight to behold and I was instantly nervous about bringing Marcus someplace so big with so many people. I didn’t want him overwhelmed, but I also didn’t want to become overwhelmed myself. I was so very glad Riot was there with us. Probably for the first time ever I was accepting help from someone who wasn’t paid to be there. This was a big step, and it almost reminded me of the days when Marcus and I were a part of a real family. I looked at Riot, whose arm was wrapped around my shoulders as he laughed and said something funny to Marcus, and I let my heart expand just a little.
Any single thing you could possibly imagine, this place had built it out of Lego blocks. It was amazing. There were buildings made of Lego blocks, replicas of actual cars, even Darth Vader and Yoda. Each and every one we passed Marcus would exclaim, “I want to make that!”
“You’re going to need a lot more blocks to make that, buddy,” Riot said, clapping him on the back and laughing as they admired a life-size locomotive made of Lego blocks.