Captured(66)

“Yeah,” I whimper. “I do. I want it.”

He’s letting me move. And god, am I moving. Writhing my ass up and down his length, pressing back to get more pressure on me where I want it, where I’m scared to want it, scared to get it. It’s not close enough, though. I can’t get him close enough. He’s not actually touching my * with his shaft. Then, kissing my shoulder, he pushes his knee between my thighs, and I lift my top leg. Turn my head to find his mouth waiting, hot and wet and his tongue is sliding against my teeth, and I’m reaching down between my thighs, finding the silk-wrapped steel of his cock. Mewling high in my throat, needing him. Taking him in. I have no thought for anything but him, but completion in him. Feeling him behind me, body flush against my back. His groin burying into my ass, his cock sliding into my *, sliding in, merging with me, hot and thick inside me, filling me, stretching me. Oh, the burn of stretching open for him. I’m wet, soaked for him.

I reach behind my head and clutch his face, thread my fingers into his hair the way he loves, moaning in affirmation at his powerful hands clutching at my tits, fondling them, tweaking them. Gasping into the kiss as he finds my clit with his fingers, and we’re moving together, bodies meeting in perfect unison, finding a flawless rhythm together.

“Reagan, god, Reagan.”

“Yes, Derek. Ohhhhh. Oh…yes.”

Strong, fast, powerful, unending thrusts, bodies meeting, sighs merging, kisses sloppy and groping and wet, hands roaming and clutching.

His movements faltering with fervency even as I’m gripping his hand that’s digging between my thighs, and I’m shredded apart and gasping.

Derek rolls and takes me on top of him, my back to his front, and I’m coming and he’s coming, and I feel the jetting hot wet gush of his seed, and it makes me come even harder, come so f*cking hard I nearly bite through my tongue, breathless, mouth falling open in a silent scream. He’s still coming, grunting in my ear, thrusting up, pressing down on my clit with his fingers, holding me down against him even as he f*cks up again and again and harder and harder, shooting thick spreading wet heat through me, and I come again, or come still, gripped by wave after wave of spasming exhilaration, and I can actually feel his cock thickening and throbbing as he comes yet more, whispering my name,

“Reagan, Reagan…my god, Reagan.” Kisses behind me ear and thrusts again, grinds against me, and I squeeze, milking every drop of pleasure out of him and thus out of myself. “I love you, Ree.”

He said it. Ohmyfreakinggod, he said it. And he called me Ree. No one’s ever called me that. Except—

I shake that thought away. “I love you, Derek.” I reach back for him, find his cheek, his nose, his mouth biting my thumb and letting go. “Oh, oh, I love you.”

“How? God, how do I love you so much?”

“I don’t know, but I do.” I spoke as if I was him, answering him from the unity of he-is-me-is-we.

It’s not until we’re motionless at last and he’s still hard inside me but softening and slipping out that either of realize what we just did.

I speak first. “Derek? We just….”

“Yeah.”

I think fast, calculate. “It’s the end of the month, so I shouldn’t be fertile. It should be okay.” I’m just saying that to reassure him and myself both, even though it’s true.

“I’m sorry, I never even stopped to think.” His voice is harsh, self-deprecating.

I roll, twist, and lie on top of him, looking down at him. “Derek, don’t. I didn’t, either. And I’m not sorry. Don’t take back what we just experienced together.” I bury my face in his neck. “You meant it, didn’t you? You weren’t just saying it?”

His arms go around my back, holding me close. “I meant it, Reagan. I swear I did.” He swallows hard. “That’s not something I’d say without really meaning it.”

I lift my face, touch my nose to his, stare deep into his green eyes. “And so did I. That was…what I just felt with you—there’s never, never been anything like it. So I’m not at all sorry it happened.” I feel everything inside me swell, feel impassioned blazing love. “It’s going to be fine. You and me together, right? Just—just stay with me. Don’t run.”

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

I kiss his cheek, just below his eye. “Then it’ll be fine.” I roll over, slip off the bed. I feel him watching me, and I add some slinky sashay to my walk. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

I make it into the bathroom, get the shower running, and sit on the toilet and pee. And that’s when the worry hits me. The one time Tom and I had sex without using a condom, I ended up with Tommy nine months later. I’ve never been on birth control because it makes my hormones go wacky. I’m regular as clockwork without them, and my periods are usually not too bad. And Tom was gone so much, there was just no point. I wasn’t having sex, and I didn’t need the birth control to regulate anything, so there was just no need. Of course when Tom and I conceived Tommy, I was at my most fertile time of the month. He was at the tail end of his leave, and we were drunk, and then…oops.

But just now, with Derek? God. So…f*cking…intense. I never thought about it, never even considered it. I just needed him. Had to have him. Nothing else mattered, or even existed. And yeah, I’m a little worried I might have another little oops on the way come…June or July, if I’m counting right. It’s late September, so—yeah. June or July.