Home > Starlight (Peaches Monroe #2)(13)

Starlight (Peaches Monroe #2)(13)
Author: Mimi Strong

Keith tossed the robe aside and pressed both of his cool palms against my back, pulling me in for a hug. The hug lasted a long time. Like, I thought we were done hugging and began kissing his tanned shoulder, but the hug kept happening. Finally, I just gave into the hug, going limp. I think that’s what you’re supposed to do when a bear attacks you.

After a moment, I became aware of my breathing, and how it had fallen in rhythm to match Keith’s. I wondered if our hearts were beating together as well, because it sure seemed like it. He was still straddling my lap, our parts commingling like overly-friendly co-workers at an open-bar staff Christmas party, and the whole thing felt intense, but good.

An energy was climbing up my backbone, like a fast-growing vine, made of fire. The energy was sexual, but also more than that. What was Keith doing to me with this hug? Was he some sort of new-age earth muffin type? Honestly, if he’d started chanting next, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

More notably, he was at least as turned on as I was. His modeling talent—the part that filled out the underwear pouch—was straining upward to see the world, or at least my ni**les. The velvety pink skin of his c**k stroked softly against my stomach, and I realized we were swaying, albeit gently.

Oh, that gorgeous c**k was almost as pretty as his face. I wanted him in me—in my mouth to begin with. Keith was hugging me so tightly, though, that I couldn’t make any moves. Despite the coolness in the room, our bodies were hot against each other, and any moment I was going to start sweating.

“This is perfect,” he said with a calm voice.

Were we still hugging? Yes, apparently we were.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Being here with me is more than enough.” His hands started moving, stroking up and down my back. After being held in one spot for so long, the sensation was incredible. My back felt like it was made of light, and every spot Keith pressed or squeezed emitted new colors.

I moaned and leaned my head back, arching my upper body. He kissed my neck, his mouth hot and wet against my skin.

Gasping at the ecstasy of his touch, I moaned for him not to stop. This was so much better than the hugging.

When he reached my jaw, I tilted my head up again and we kissed passionately, our tongues caressing. His c**k was rubbing up and down against my stomach now, the base of it getting wet from me.

“Trade spots?” he asked as he reached behind him for a condom.

“How?” I asked, but then I saw what he meant. Still facing him, both of us seated, I moved my legs to extend over top his thighs. He got the condom in place and used his hand to bend himself down enough to enter me. With a wiggle and a slight lift from me, bracing my palms behind me, he slid in. His whole incredible length and girth filled me gently. I gasped again at the sensation, fireworks sparking throughout my nerves and behind my eyelids.

This was happening. For real.

He caressed my br**sts, moving in and out slowly, rhythmically.

Everything felt so good.

He took the next part as slowly as the beginning, and the more I let go and stopped worrying about getting somewhere, the more the divine pleasure built up. We swayed together, not moving very far in either direction, but still building heat.

“Lift your pelvis,” he whispered. “A little more muscle tension increases the blood flow.”

I leaned back again, using my palms for support, arching my back. Whatever was happening, the magic was working. I whimpered as I ground myself against his firm muscles, my cl*t mashing into his damp skin and short curls.

Keith fondled my br**sts and craned his neck down, palming them upward so he could taste my ni**les and run his teeth over the taut tissue. He sucked on one, then the other, making my eyes roll up in my head with pleasure.

His h*ps were rolling, moving in rhythm with and then against mine. I couldn’t get enough of him, moving gently back and forth inside me. I started to come, and I could tell it was going to be a big one, after all that buildup. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me close to him, then used his upper body strength to drive me up and down atop his hardness. My legs wrapped around him.

I cried out and buried my hands in his hair, hanging on for dear life as my orgasm shuddered through both of us. My wails quieted down until they were just raspy breaths. One final aftershock made me squeak with surprise.

We stopped moving, and all was still. He was hard inside me, neither coming nor going, from what I could tell.

“That was fantastic,” I said, giving him a kiss. The skin around his mouth was moist with sweat. “Now what? How shall we finish you off?”

“I’m good,” he said.

“I’ll say you’re good! Forget modeling, you should get paid to do that!”

He chuckled. “I don’t like to release every time, if that’s what you mean. I’m more about the journey than the destination.”

With that, he shifted back on the bed, withdrawing. One at a time, he pulled his legs out from under mine and swung around to lie on his side, gazing up at me.

“You’re really done?” I asked.

He pulled the sheet to cover himself from my curious eyes. I’d never heard of a regular guy choosing to not orgasm. Naturally, I was worried I had scared him, or that something was wrong with his twig and berries, perhaps permanent damage from wearing the c**k rings for underwear shoots.

“Everything works just fine,” he said, as though he knew exactly what I’d been thinking. “What I really wanted was to hold you, kiss you, smell you, and taste your skin. I got all that, plus hearing you the sound of you coming. As for my preference, I find my senses are sharper when I’m not… finishing every day.”

He reached for my hand and pulled me to lie alongside him, my back against his front, our lower halves separated by a sheet.

“I’m not complaining,” I said. “Just curious.”

“And suspicious.”

“Not suspicious.” I brought his hand up to my mouth and gently gnawed on one of his knuckles. He had lovely hands for chewing on. “A little hungry is all.”

He combed through my damp hair with his fingers. “The sex was hot, but now our coffee is cold. Life always has a way of ensuring balance.”

I wriggled, feeling comfortable nestled against this man who’d been a stranger not twenty-four hours earlier. What surprised me most was I had no desire to run away, to flee the scene.

He nuzzled my ear and asked, “Remind me, how long do I have you?”

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