Captured(68)

“Mmmmm,” I hum, encouraging him. He likes this, and I love his pleasure, love feeling him lose control. “Mmmmhmmmm….”

“Ohgodohf*ck, Ree…so close.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

He f*cks faster now, through my fist, and I taste pre-come strongly now. He’s groaning with each flex of his hips.

A thought floats through my head. Earlier, in the forest, when I swallowed his come, I loved making him lose it, making him come. Feeling how crazy I had him. But I could do it without actually swallowing, which I don’t mind but isn’t my favorite. I much preferred watching it happen, watching the little hole at his tip spasm, watching the thick stream jet out, hit his skin. I liked watching him come onto my hand, behind the barn. And now, having him right there on the edge, I have to figure out where to have him come. Not in my mouth, I decide. I don’t really like that. I never really have, I’m realizing. I’ve always swallowed—not out of obligation, because I did enjoy giving pleasure, just as I am now—but because that was just the way you did it. Less mess, for one thing. But…I’m in the shower with Derek. What better place to let him make a mess, to try something new?

Derek is thrusting hard now and groaning, and I’m bobbing up and down on him, taking him as far in as I can, tasting him, feeling him. He’s close. So close. He tugs my hair twice.

I spit him out of my mouth, look up at him, stroking him hard and fast, pumping him greedily. “Derek…watch.”

His flexing hips falter, and his eyes flick open and fix on me, on my fists sliding hand-over-hand down his length. I feel his testicles tighten, spasm. Tilt his cock toward my body, arch my back, tits out. Grip him up near the head and pump. He groans, and his hips push, grind him into my hand.

Now.

He comes, a white flood of thick seed splashing onto my chest, hitting my tits and sliding down, washed away. I keep pumping him, milking him, and he comes again, another jet spurting onto my skin. He grunts and f*cks into my hands, and I speed up the tempo of my hands on his cock. This time, I cover his tip with my fingers and we both watch the come seep out between my fingers, and I stroke him, smearing it on him, and then another short burst drips out of him, onto the tub. He doesn’t come anymore, but I keep stroking him until he pulls out of my hand and grabs me by the shoulders, lifts me up. Plasters me against the wall of the shower and kisses me, the water going lukewarm on our bodies.

I pull away, smile at him, find the poof on the floor of the tub and squeeze the suds out. I wash his softening cock again, and then he takes it from me and lathers up my front, gently scrubbing each of my boobs and in between, underneath, lifting each one. We each rinse off, and then he takes a moment to shampoo his hair.

We get out, and he dries me off, and I do the same for him. He runs his fingers through his hair instead of combing it, leaving it messy, while I brush my teeth and my hair. We do all of this in a companionable silence, although I can feel him questioning why I did it that way. I’ll wait for him to ask. We get dressed, him in the same clothes as yesterday.

Which raises the question….

“Derek?”

He tugs his shirt down, glances at me. “Yeah?”

“I think you should go get your stuff.”

He frowns, misunderstanding. “Oh. Um. Okay.”

I laugh. “No, Derek. Not go get your things and leave, go get your things and bring them in here.”

“You’re…sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” I wrap my arms around his middle in a hug. “I just made you promise me to not run, didn’t I? I want you here. With me.”

He hesitates a few moments, thinking. “Okay. If you’re sure you want that.” He frowns down at me. “I still have nightmares, sometimes. Bad ones. Not as many, recently, but…they still happen.”

“Did you have one last night?”

“No,” he says. “But last night was special. I slept with you last night. Like, sleep-slept. That’s a first for me. I never—before, with anyone else, I’d just leave when I—when we…when—”

I make a face. “Really? You’d just leave?”

He seems upset by my reaction. “Yeah. I guess I wasn’t a nice guy then. I’m not that guy anymore, though.”

God, I hope not. “Did you like it? Sleeping in my bed with me?”

He grins. “It was…magical. Hope that doesn’t make me sound like a *, but it was really amazing. I loved it. Just holding you. Waking up with you.” His grin widens. “Especially the way you woke me up.”

I cling to him, scratch the beard on his jaw. “I liked that, too. Loved it. Having you wake up beside me.” Kiss his chin, nip at his jaw. “Making love to you first thing in the morning.”

I run my hand on his jaw again. I like the beard. Tom was always clean-shaven, being in the Corps. “Say it again. I want to hear you say—”

I don’t have to finish. He’s cupping my cheeks in his big strong rough hands. “I love you, Reagan.”





CHAPTER 17





DEREK





Two weeks. That’s how long heaven lasted.

I’ve never in my life slept so well, so deeply, so dreamlessly. I would wake up each morning with a warm contented bliss washing through me, and the desire to never ever move, to burrow more deeply into bed, into the warmth, into Reagan. Sometimes I’d have a moment of panic, thinking it was all a dream, a new kind of nightmare. I’d jerk awake, seeking her. And I’d find her. Naked. Silk-smooth and beautiful and wrapped around me.