Drop Dead Gorgeous(111)

“Blake . . .” Zoey whimpers, her breath coming faster as I let my tongue dance between her lips and to her clit again and again. “Fuck!”

“I will,” I promise her, but I don’t move. Not yet. I want her on my tongue first. She bucks again and her fist tightens in my hair. She lets go of herself, knowing that I’m here, that I’m not going anywhere.

That she can always trust me.

I prove it again and again by giving her everything, drawing her up higher and higher as pleasure jolts up and down her body in racking shudders. Zoey’s legs close, her feet on my back as her thighs close around my head, not to push me away but to keep me where she needs me as I tease and love her pussy until she cries out and comes hard.

When her back relaxes and her thighs unclench, I slide up the bed, pushing my underwear down and taking myself in hand.

We look into each other’s eyes as I slide into her, her pussy still having phantom flutters from the intensity of her orgasm. “You feel so good, squeezing me like that.”

That’s true, but there’s so much more to it. The most blissful experience is being not just buried inside her body but welcomed into her heart. She lifts her head, meeting me for a kiss and bearing down extra tight on my hard shaft.

We’re together, two hearts beating as one and two souls fully together.

My hips rise and fall, thrusting deep with each clench of my muscles, but I go slowly, watching for any sign that it’s too much for her. Not just emotionally, but physically. Her body is recovered, but I can’t help but be gentle with her. Zoey isn’t having it that way, though. She pushes her hips against the bed, bucking her hips into mine. “Deeper . . . harder.”

I can’t deny her, and the power of our joining makes her necklace shake with each thrust. The sight is one that I will always hold dear, a memory of the first time I took my Zoey with no walls, no defenses, just pure and open eyes and hearts and passion we cannot contain.

The world blurs, sweat dripping down my forehead, but I blink it away, unwilling to not see her clearly in this moment. Zoey reaches up with one hand to cup my cheek.

“I love you,” Zoey gasps out in between strokes of my cock. “Forever.”

“Love you too!” I barely have time to grit the words out before my cock swells and I’m lost to blackness. I throw my head back, my climax coursing through me. I feel myself explode deep into Zoey’s tight body, and then her own orgasm comes right behind mine, her walls pulsing around me.

We stay that way, her in my arms and me in her body as we come down, our lips meeting in a soft kiss. Sensing she’s falling prey to her desire to sleep after sex, I roll, keeping her impaled on my softening cock.

“Whoo!” she yells with a laugh, but she settles back over me, resting on her knees and sitting up.

Her hair is wild, all the tamed curls released. Her makeup is smeared, the smoky eyes now looking more like smudges. And she’s nude, save for the wooden pendent above her breasts which sit proudly on her chest.

With my hands on her hips, I tell her, “You are so gorgeous.”

She flinches, a tell so tiny she probably doesn’t even know she did it. And my heart breaks for her.

“You really are. Gorgeous.” I say it vehemently this time, with all the love, respect, and care I feel for her entwined in the too-important word. “Inside and out.”

She’s silent for a moment, thinking as she traces her hand over my chest aimlessly. Finally, she quietly says, “Do me a favor? Keep telling me. Take away all the bad feeling of that word and replace it with your love?”

“Gorgeous,” I repeat, pulling her down to kiss her again. “Gorgeous.” Another kiss.

When she’s smiling again, I ask, “So . . . how was our first date? Maybe a one to ten ranking scale, so I can improve for the next one? Keep it statistically comparable, you know.”

Zoey laughs at the conversational turn, and I feel her muscles squeeze me. She tilts her head left and right, not giving anything away before saying, “Pretty good. Though I don’t have much to compare it to,” she teases. “But I hope it’s not over yet.” Her brow lifts flirtatiously.

“Oh?”

Zoey shakes her head, a cascade of dark hair tickling my face. “I plan on giving you a little time to recover, and then we’re going to go one more time before we sleep. Perchance to dream,” she adds with a dramatically airy flair.

I smile at the quoted poetry. It’s so Zoey. “Did you know Hamlet’s soliloquy is one of the most widely known and quoted pieces in modern English? Shakespeare also wrote nearly one-tenth of the most quoted lines in the English language.”

“I did not, but somehow, I’m not surprised that you do.”

I hum, “I also know the average male my age needs roughly twenty minutes before they’re able to go again.”

“Is that so?” Zoey says on a smirk, but she grinds her hips against me as she says it. “Oh, maybe you’re above average?”

“Good inspiration,” I agree, feeling myself harden inside her. Grabbing her hips and pulling her down forcefully, I correct myself. “Gorgeous inspiration.”





Epilogue





Zoey





It’s brunch, Zoey. No big deal. Smile, eat, and don’t say anything weird. You can do this.