A Many Splintered Thing / Day 27: He stroked her roughly, the kiss on her shoulder turning to teeth

Here we go. Ta and da. I have today's bit. I hope you enjoy.

I did two workouts, ran all over the globe, paid $14 (a sum I do NOT have) to mail a Goodreads prize to Great Britain. Must say, future Goodreads contests will have to be US only. I hate saying that because I love to be inclusive but goodness, my sad little budget does not allow for three dinners worth of money to mail something. And now...I've put in Lake Placid (a fave) because my brain and body have decided they're not getting along so I am sprawled in the ugly pink chair and just...Om...

XOXO
Sommer
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Her jeans were off, the panties too, and he just looked at her for a moment. His hand parted her thighs and he liked the looks of them on her skin. Big hands, slim thighs—tan hands, pale thighs. Nice.
“That’s getting to be a catch phrase, don’t you think?” He ran the tip of his cock along her skin. All around where she wanted it. He smiled when she tossed her head and made a desperate sound.
“What?”
“Shut up and fuck me?” He chose that moment to slide the tip of himself along her wet slit. She shut her eyes and tensed.
“Well, if the non-fucking shoe fits…”
“Point taken,” he said, and slipped into her. It was easy, sliding into her. Feeling and reveling in her wet grip on him.
She pushed her legs up and hugged the sides of his hips. She was strong and that made him want her more. She wasn’t some small and docile thing beneath him. She was strong and full of life. She seemed to vibrate with energy and spirit.
He buried his face where her neck met her shoulder and inhaled the scent of her. Then he kissed her there and those magical long legs moved up further to lock behind his back.
He was accustomed to talking dirty. To saying filthy things to amp up what was going on in bed. But he wasn’t unaccustomed to being boldly honest. Caleb pressed his lips to her ear. “I like the feel of you around me, Dahlia.”
His throat seemed to have narrowed as he said it but he pushed on anyway, realizing that what was happening here was important for him. To him.
“You feel…like…” But his mind stopped him there. Even as his body continued to move, his hips continued to thrust, his cock continued to respond to the slick, warm grip of her around him, his mind put up a roadblock.
Dahlia kissed him, holding his face in her hands. She arched her hips to take him deeper, the skin of her belly warm against his as she moved. He grabbed her wrists and pushed them down to her hips. He held her there, pinned, and felt her excitement increase because she grew even tighter around his cock. Almost unbearably so. Tight enough that the urge to surrender to his orgasm was almost too tempting.
But he resisted temptation.
“Caleb…” He stopped and looked at her. Her face was flushed, her big blue eyes wide. Trusting. That part almost cracked him right there.
“Yeah?”
“Turn me over?” Her eyes shot away as if, miraculously, Dahlia the great was feeling shy. Uncertain.
His throat went from narrow to a pinpoint. He struggled to focus on breathing normally.
He looked down at her, something in his heart twisted sideways, but then he read her apparent shyness it for what it really was—Dahlia being completely genuine. She wanted what she wanted, needed what she needed. So he pulled free, shocked by how quickly his flesh missed hers, and roughly flipped her. Her belly hit the big sofa and the air rushed out of her. Caleb gathered her long hair, not done up in braids today, in his hand and wound it around his knuckles. He tugged just enough to pull her head back and watched, humbled, as a rash of goose bumps sprang up along the muscled expanse of her back.
He slipped a hand beneath her belly and tugged until he got her up on her knees. Her upper body bowed, her elbows trembling from taking the brunt of her weight and balancing that way.Caleb slid back into her slowly, relishing and watching every single inch of his cock disappear.She turned her head to the side, her whole body trembling then. Caleb gripped her hips hard enough to see his fingers denting her flesh. He paused, swayed his hips back and forth so that he ground against her.
“Caleb—“ she said, but this time it wasn’t a question. This time it was whispered in pleasure and the power of that flowed through him like fire in his blood.
He hung his head, shut his eyes, got lost in her. His fingers tickled along the small of her back, the flare of her hips, the swell of her ass. He read her skin like braille and felt, beneath his fingers, the amazing life of a warrior. Someone who did not bow down unless she chose to. Someone who was not afraid to fight. And not afraid to lose. Was always willing to take the chance on herself. On others—if they were worth it.
She made a soft sound and moved her body back to take him. Her motions would end things soon enough so he focused on it. Forgot the poetic tale of her skin and the amazing strength of her soul and focused on how she felt rippling around him as he drove into her. He bent his body forward, folding himself over her, feeling muscles strain and sing. He kissed the back of her shoulder, her neck, and his tempo increased. Every thrust was hard and fast. His fingers slipped along her hip, her thigh and then under her body to find her clitoris.
He stroked her roughly, the kiss on her shoulder turning to teeth and when she came again, a gentle contraction of her body around his, he came with her. Tugging her hair at the end just to remind her he had it.
Dahlia collapsed under him, her body damp with sweat. She was laughing. It made him laugh. He let his body meld to hers for a second, relished the feel of them bound by the act.  She turned to face him and smiled, pretty lush lips turned up in pleasure.
“So what were you going to say?”
“What?”
“You said I felt like...and then you got distracted.” She pushed her ass back against him playfully. Joking.
“Oh.” He shrugged.
“So, what was it?” She turned her body to him, trailed her finger down his cheekbone and then over his chin to stroke his lips. He kissed that finger.
“Sex on a stick?” He raised his eyebrows at her comically.
“Please,” she laughed.
“Like honey?”
“Cliché,” she said.
“Like a grapefruit heated in a microwave for ten seconds—“
“Caleb!” She swatted at him but she was laughing. A real belly laugh that made her more beautiful. Which Caleb didn’t think was possible, to be honest.
“Seriously. I knew a guy. He’d cut a hole in the center and then nuke that sucker until it was nice and warm and then he’d—“
“Enough!” she yelled but she was laughing. “We have to get back to work anyway. If you’re not going to tell me, fine.”
He caught her by the end of her hair and pulled her in for one more kiss. “I don’t remember,” he lied. “Whatever it was, I’m sure it was amazing.”
Dahlia nodded, believing him. She stood and shimmied into her clothes. It was like watching a magic trick how fast she got dressed. She bent to kiss him. “You’d better get back to it,” she whispered.  “Some of the staff love to play tattletale.”
Then she was gone.
He watched her go, heard the front door shut and when he stood to pull his boxers and jeans back on he whispered, “You feel like coming home, Dahlia. That’s what I wanted to say.”

photo credit: Tc Morgan via photopin cc