Wanderlust part 10 "...Feel pretty for me."

Part 10! Wow. Already? Can you believe it? I'm off in a bit for the big morning. Then I'm in. Then I'm out. Then I'm in. All I need is the squeaking of bed springs and I'll be good to go.

XOXO
Sommer

Wanderlust
Part 10
by Sommer Marsden

What do you need, Snowflake?

Good fucking question. I needed a lot of things. I needed a spark in my belly and something to wake up for. I needed to laugh and feel it all the way down in my body and not just the taut and tense lines of my face. I needed this. I needed him. Deep down I knew Johnny Rose couldn't save me, only I could save me. Bug God damn it, he was a start.

He didn't lay me on the bed, he flung me on the bed and I let up a whoop like some wild bird. That made him laugh. He was pulling at his jeans, grabbing up his button fly and I added my hands to the fray. I tugged along with him, probably slowing him down more than anything. My fingers warred with his and in the back of my mind I recognized how nice his warm hand felt under mine.

"Easy, girly. Let me do it."

I put my hands on his skin, pushed his shirt high and just felt the heat of him under my fingers. He tugged those faded jeans and revealed boxer briefs and hard flesh.

I made a sound I don't think I've ever made before. A sound that was half starving woman, half feral creature. My fingers tugged and plucked at the waistband and finally—blissfully—I had him bare but for his tee. The flannel he had tossed in the living room.

"Snowflake?"

I ignored him. I didn't want to talk. I just wanted. He was smooth and hot in my hand. I gripped his cock and just held him. His thighs tensed but he waited. I rubbed the small wet slit on the head of his cock with my thumb and watched his muscles take up a subtle—nearly invisible dance—as he tried to remain completely still and failed.

"You're perfect," I muttered, more to me than to him. I leaned in and sucked just the tip of him into my mouth. His skin tasted of cotton and salt and sweat and somehow, winter.

"Jesus," he laughed softly. It was more of an exhalation than a laugh. "That's perfect."

I licked the flared ridge of his tip and then stroked my fingers down the shaft, the skin velvety and tantalizing to me. Smooth like a river rock or a worry bead. I used him as a worry bead, letting my fingers slide along the tissue-thin skin and a calmness started in my chest.

He made me feel peaceful.

I never felt peaceful.

I sucked him in as far as I could. All of him filling my mouth and my throat and there was still more of him I could not take but Johnny didn't seem to mind. He caught my hair up in his fist but simply held it. The potential for pain more bright and vibrant than pain itself. My pussy went soft and greedy for him.

I sucked him deeper.

"You know…" He shook his head and stayed silent.

I looked at him, asking him with my eyes. When he refused to go on I broke free, my hand still sliding along his skin. "What?" I know lots of things."

"Nothing."

"Tell me." I simply held him in hand—nothing more. And it seemed to be nearly unbearable for him.

"You're beautiful is all," he said. His eyebrow rose and he almost smiled. "Especially, sucking my cock."

"Why did you say nothing?" I kept my eyes on him but stuck my tongue out—watched him watching me—and then touched only the tip of my tongue to his dick.

"Because I'm sure you hear it all the time."

When he touched my face, my skin tingled with it. It was a gentle touch—something I truly craved, but it unnerved me nonetheless.

"Hearing it and believing it are two different things," I muttered and then pushed my mouth down over his cock, taking him deep again, cutting my gaze away.

He tsked softly. "Snowflake," he said.

"Shh." My lips pressed against him and he groaned.

"Shh, my ass," he growled and pulled me up, tugging my hair hard enough that I had no choice but to follow. "I won't argue with you about your beauty," he said, twisting my hair around his hands so that I had to step closer. His mouth was hot, almost angry on mine. He released my hair and grabbed my waist.

"Good, I like my men to be pretty and not argue with me." I tried to laugh but he was turning me and a bubble of anxiety cut off the forced laughter.

"Yeah, well if pretty is what you're looking for then you have definitely hooked up with the wrong man." He bent me at the waist and I caught my balance on the mattress. His knee forced my legs wide and he pressed that silken tip of his cock to my pussy. I shivered.

"I think you're pretty," I breathed. "The way you make me feel is pretty," I amended.

He grunted but said nothing. Johnny pushed just the tip of himself into me. Just enough to make me shift and try to get more. His hands were clamped onto my hips, finger pressing white spots into my skin. He moved another inch, slid a little deeper until I simply said "God, please."

He pushed into me fully, filling me and my head dropped down like I was praying. I was. I was praying that he would take his time. That I would come right now—I needed it so bad. That I could wait to come—I didn't want it to end. I wanted all scenarios and then some. I wanted him to stop time and let me feel…good.

Pretty.

Johnny bent over me, still moving into me. He grabbed one hand and pulled it up so that he could lean over my body briefly and suck my finger and wet it with his tongue. "Rub it," he said.

I knew what he meant and though I had no interest in speeding up the process, I obeyed. His tone left no room for disobedience. I flicked my clit one time until I felt the tightness in my cunt—in my belly. Then I rubbed with spit-wet fingers over the swollen nub of flesh.

"Come for me, Snowflake. Feel pretty for me." I could hear the smile in his voice and that got me off. One minute I was rubbing per his orders, the next I was gasping for breath and coming hard. My pussy milking him, my hair brushing his plain navy blue comforter.

Johnny pulled free of me and I was moving, twisting in the wind, as it were. I reached up blindly, trying to find him and hold on. Then he had me on my back, pinned under his bulk, his tongue bullying my tongue. Kissing me so that I felt like I was drowning.

"Spread your legs."

I obeyed. "I thought you were going to take me from behind," I blurted.

"I did."

"But you—"

"Did you come?" he asked. Johnny pinned my hands hard against the mattress, trapping them helpless by my hips. He moved against me in lazy, slow strokes. His cock slipped deep and when I pulled my legs up just a hair, the tip of him bumped my G-spot.

"Yes, Oh—yes, I did." I tried to think. To answer coherently. But all I could focus on was the rush and swell of more pleasure in my body. I was full of it. I felt bright and ripe and yellow like sunshine.

"Then I took you from behind, Snowflake. The taking is in what I can get out of you. And you gave me an orgasm. I took it, you had it, it's a win-win."

I bared my neck to him and he kissed it softly before scraping his teeth to the flesh with an increasing pressure that caused stars of white light to sparkle in my vision. "And now I want you to give it to me again," he said, rocking his hips.

The pressure of his movements created friction that I found almost unbearable. Almost. When those teeth grazed my jaw and Johnny finally kissed me, I came. His hand clamped my wrists so hard they hurt and he shuddered against me saying just one word.

"Christ."

I expected him to pull away from me then. I really thought that's the way it would go. Not only was I steeled for it, I truly expected it. When he turned on his side and pulled me closer, tucking me to him, I felt the ridiculous prick of unwanted tears in my eyes.

I would not cry. Not.
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