Proving Paul's Promise(52)

“God,” I breathe out, and I have to set her back from me for a second so I can get a breath.

She smirks and pulls her pajama shirt over her head. She’s not wearing a bra, and it makes my mouth water. But before I can touch her, she’s shoving her pajama bottoms down, too. Then she’s naked, and I was right. She’s almost completely shaved down there but not quite.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her eyes following mine toward her tiny little landing strip.

“You’re just so f*cking pretty,” I tell her. “And I love you so f*cking much.”

Her gaze drops for a second, and she climbs onto my bed, her round bottom up in the air for a second. I reach forward and slap it, and she squeaks in protest.

“I cannot believe you did that!” she cries, looking affronted.

“Oh, believe it.” I strut over to the bed and shove my jeans down over my hips. Her gaze goes to my dick, and she licks her lips. I came in her mouth this morning, and I want to come inside her this time. “Do I need to get a condom?” I ask.

“You think you’re going to get me more pregnant?” she asks, her lips tilted in a quirky grin that’s a-f*cking-dorable.

“No,” I grunt out. “I just didn’t know if you’d be worried about other stuff.”

“I’ve seen your test results and you’ve seen mine,” she reminds me.

We work in a business where plasma sprays into the air, so we have to get tested regularly for everything.

“I haven’t done it without one in a really long time,” I admit. “I might not last for shit.”

She laughs. “Then we’ll have to do it twice.”

Hell yeah. “If you insist.” I chuckle as I climb over her and prop myself up on my elbows on each side of her head. I look down into her face and I know, inherently, in my soul, that I’m going to be with this woman for the rest of my life. I’m going to climb into her bed every day until I die. And when I’m too old to be able to f*ck her, I’m going to hold her. And she’s going to hold me. Forever.

“What are you thinking?” she asks.

I brush her hair back with my thumbs. “Are you sure you want to know?” I’m not sure she’s ready for shit to get real.

But she nods. “Yes.”

“I was thinking about how I want to climb on top of you when we get old and do awesome things to you.” So, I edited. But who cares?

“What if I don’t want your old ass crawling on top of me?” she asks. I freeze, because I’m suddenly scared. But she takes my face in her hands and forces me to look at her. “What if I want to get on top, instead?”

I chuckle and bury my face in her neck. The scent of her almost overwhelms me, and I lift my head and kiss her. “You can get on top anytime you want.”

“Except today,” she breathes.

“You want to get on top today?” I ask. Hell, I’ll roll over and pull her on top of me. Won’t hurt my pride at all.

“No,” she whispers. “I want you to carry me away. Take me with you where you’re going.”

“Don’t want to go without you,” I say.

She points between us. “Then you better get busy, big guy. You got some work to do.”

God, she makes me laugh. I look down at her boobs, and she’s put her piercings back in so I wrap my lips around her left one and roll it with my tongue. She pants and palms the back of my head to pull me closer to her. My dick is sitting right at the apex of her thighs, and I can feel her heat all around me, so I notch it in her cleft, where my piercing will thrum against her clit, and she nearly comes up off the bed. I kiss her breast and lick over it and under it and around it, and goose bumps rise along her arms and neck, and I f*cking love that I can make her come apart like this. She has fine lines up both sides of her stomach, probably from her first pregnancy, and I tongue them gently. I like that I get to see this part of her because it’s all the scars that make up a good part of who she is.

“Paul,” she says quietly.

I lift my head and look up at her.

“I’m officially afraid,” she says.

I stop what I’m doing. “Of me?”

She snorts. “No, I’m afraid you’re never going to get to my * with all that licking you’re doing everywhere else,” she cries, and she shoves my head toward her heat with an impatient hand.

“God, you’re so f*cking bossy,” I say, but I slide down, wiggling until her thighs part so I can settle between them. I rock from side to side and push her open wide. “Give me some room,” I say. “I have broad shoulders.”

“I’m not a contortionist,” she huffs, but she pulls her legs farther apart. Her * is wet and glistening, and I can see the little piece of gold sticking out from between her folds where she has her hood pierced. And she has labia piercings, too. I have honestly never kissed a * with so much metal on it. But good God, I’m willing.

Since she’s giving me a hard time, I don’t even go easy on her. I suck her piercing into my mouth and give it a tug.

She cries out, and she rocks into my mouth. I hook the piercing with my thumb and very gently hold it out of the way, and then I suck her clit. She fists the sheets in her hands and closes her eyes and bites down on her lower lip.