Four Letter Word Page 53

She knew.

But I had other plans.

“Yes, yes, please,” she begged, lips pressing to my ear. “Do it, Brian. Fuck me there. I want it.”

“Need you coming on my cock tonight, babe,” I said, thrusting in and out, in and out with my spine burning and my legs and arms trembling.

“I will. I will,” Syd assured. “Let me. Just let me. I will.”

“A little more,” I told her.

She closed her eyes, bit her lip, and moaned.

“Just a little longer,” I soothed.

Fingers dug into my back and sank between my ribs.

“Give me everything,” I pleaded.

Wild opened her eyes and nodded, saying, “Take it. Take all of it,” then reached above her head and pushed against the headboard, bearing down on me and sending heat through my limbs.

“Fuck,” I gasped, the need to pump faster clawing at my skin and I broke, slamming into her while keeping hold of her waist. “Syd …babe, get there.”

She pulled me down and kissed me hard.

“I’m there,” she moaned. “Brian, please, God, I’ve been there.”

She broke apart first, a beautiful chaos of fire and light in my arms.

Dirty and delicate.

Then my orgasm ripped through me and I came on a growl that vibrated in my chest, shooting deep inside her pussy with hips thrusting frantically, back straightening, and head thrown back then tipping forward and stilling to watch her milk my cock with the last bit of her climax, tiny squeezes I felt all the way in my spine as her moans turned to adoring little mews I wanted to eat.

She was so damn soft after she came.

I loved her soft.

With heavy limbs and breath, I collapsed on top of her, head buried in her neck and beating heart against beating heart.

“Damn,” I mumbled.

How could I feel broken and whole at the same time?

“Uh …yeah, damn. That was seriously crazy,” Syd declared through a small voice, her hands rubbing up and down my back soothingly. “I think that’s what people call tantric sex, you know, when you hold off that long.”

“Yeah?” I asked, lifting my head and scanning her neck until I found those two moles I knew she hated, dead center on her throat, one beside the other, then pressing my lips there and saying, “Don’t know nothing about that weird shit. Just felt like fuckin’ you for a while.”

“Mission accomplished.” She laughed, her shoulder jerking when I kissed that spot again. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing my moles,” I informed her.

She turned her head.

“I hate those moles.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“They’re moles, Brian,” she giggled, wiggling to try and get me away from them. “Moles can’t be beautiful. They’re an imperfection.”

“Gotta disagree, babe,” I argued.

I pushed back onto my knees, watching the look on her face as I slid my cock out, mouth open and eyes heated, fuckin’ needy, loved that, then climbed off the bed and got another cloth from the bathroom, got it damp, and grabbed a hand towel, wiping my dick off with that while I carried the cloth to the bed and went about taking care of her.

She spread her legs for me and bit her lip, then yawned and sighed sleepily when I was done.

I froze.

Fuck.

That noise.

How many times had she made that noise in my ear at night and I’d wished she was doing it in my arms?

Too many times to count.

“What?” she asked when she caught me staring.

I shook my head, leaned over her looking like I was going in for a kiss but at the last second ducking, tilting her head back with my hand and kissing her moles.

She made a grumbling sound in her throat but didn’t push me off.

I got rid of the cloths and pulled the covers down, got Syd under them and comfortable, then climbed in beside her, rolled to my side, and with an arm snaking around her waist, pulled until we were touching, my front to her back, my legs pushing hers into a bend and my head dropping, mouth pressing to the soft skin between her shoulder and neck.

She folded into me and threw her arm on top of mine, letting me know she liked where I put her.

“We fit perfectly,” she stated. “I knew we would.”

I closed my eyes and breathed deep.

“Want me to run out and get you that hot chocolate?” I asked, knowing that was her pattern at night, even though I didn’t want to move considering how phenomenal her ass felt against my cock, but I’d move if she asked.

Her hand pressed down on mine.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

I smiled and gave her a squeeze.

“Fuckin’ beat. You got plans tomorrow, or can we stay here all day and only get up when we need to recharge with food?”

“You don’t have to work tomorrow?”

“Nope.”

“Wait …what is it that you do again? You never said.”

No. I avoided that topic. Definitely never said.

“Co-own a surf shop with Jamie,” I informed. “Wax. Not far from here. And we never work on Sundays. Those are always for surf.”

“Except you don’t surf anymore,” she replied.

My arm tightened around her.

I was prepared for questions I’d dodge for a later discussion. Wasn’t in the mood to get into all of that tonight, but Syd didn’t press.

“Well, I would love to stay here with you, but I do have work tomorrow,” she replied, sounding sad about it. “And I need to be there. I called in sick the past two days and I felt horrible doing it. Nate seemed understanding about it but I still felt bad. He’s got a lot on his plate and he didn’t need me leaving him short-staffed.”

“Sure if it wasn’t manageable, he would’ve said something to you,” I suggested.

Her shoulder jerked.

“Maybe,” she said quietly. “Maybe not. It’s Nate. He’s like a ghost around there a lot of the time. It’s so sad.”

I remembered Syd telling me about her boss and the shit he was dealing with after finding out about it herself.

Not just shit. Sad shit. Wife committing suicide and leaving him a single dad to their newborn.

Not a conversation I wanted to have after experiencing what I’d just shared with my girl.

Luckily for me, Syd appeared to feel the same way and instead turned in my arms so we were facing each other and started shifting closer.

I took over.

Hand forming to her waist, I pulled until she was flush up against me, tits to ribs, her head resting half on the pillow and half on my arm, her hand sliding over my cheek to my hair and down to my neck and shoulder, and my leg slung over and behind her knees, locking us together.

I twisted a piece of messy red around my finger, feeling her eyes on me.

“What’s your last name?” she asked.

My hand stilled.

That was definitely not something I would’ve shared before, fearing she’d search it online to find me and see shit I didn’t want her seeing, my last name possibly linking her to something, but I didn’t have that same fear anymore so I didn’t mind sharing with her.

Why would she search for me now? I was right here.

And she had me.

“Savage,” I replied, finger moving and looking into her eyes. “Yours?”

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