Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Micah promises to only be a second. “Need a condom.”
“No,” I blurt, setting my soles down on the mattress. “Wanna feel you bare.”
Micah’s gaze captures mine. “J…I…are you sure?”
“I get checked regularly.” My voice is hoarse and needy. “You?”
I hear his contented sigh. “I do too.”
He opens the lube and applies it liberally to his cock, and then he’s hovering over me again, the tip of his shaft brushing my balls.
Lifting my knees, he scoots forward, and I breathe out as the cockhead breaches my rim, slowly, ever so slowly. I dare not rock no matter how much I want to because this time, the burn is more intense, more overwhelming, even as he shallowly thrusts to help me get accustomed to the feeling.
Micah grits his teeth as if holding back. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”
A moment later, I feel his balls brushing against my ass, and he’s fully seated inside me.
“So fucking good. But I need you to move.” I squirm and rock before he takes over, pulling almost all the way out, then driving forward again, setting a pace that transforms the leftover sting into a ripple of soul-stirring bliss.
And underneath that pleasure is a profound peacefulness that inhabits every inch of me. Because this is Micah and me joining in our rawest sense. He makes my heart quake, my skin buzz, and being connected like this is the purest form of love. I know this man. Know him deeply and intimately. I’m sure of him. Always have been and always will be.
I rock to meet his every thrust, the bed shaking from our effort as he fucks me fast and hard. It’s exactly what I need. To feel every inch of him. For hours after. Even if it destroys me.
Sweat is trickling down my back and pooling at his temples, and when our eyes catch, he momentarily stills as if to meet the weight of the moment head-on. To capture it, bury it deep for when he’s hundreds of miles away.
When the intensity of his gaze becomes too much, I close my eyes and wind my fingers around my shaft, concentrating on stroking myself into oblivion.
“Ah, hell.” My body twitches as a warm, tingling flush moves through my limbs and pools in my nuts.
In another moment, Micah’s hand is there on top of mine, jerking in time with his thrusts. It doesn’t take much longer for my back to arch, my mouth opening on a soundless gasp as I sail beyond the edge of the horizon, my come spurting all over my chest.
Micah thrusts jerkily before he’s meeting me there, his body rigid, his groan deep as his orgasm rips through him. He unloads inside me, riding out his orgasm with slower, longer thrusts before he slumps on top of me.
We quietly pant as we cling to each other, our hearts thundering in unison, my legs loosely encircling his hips. It’s another minute before I feel the wetness against my throat. My eyes sting in response as I try to blink the tears away.
He wipes his eyes as we break apart, but we still don’t speak—or maybe can’t find the words for what we feel or just shared.
I nearly protest when Micah rolls off me, my body feeling too weightless, too empty after his bulk and mass anchored me in place. But it’s only to grab a damp towel to wipe us down as I lie nearly lifeless, barely able to process what the next hours might feel like.
When he tries to dab at the come trailing down my legs, I still his hand. “Leave it. Want it there.”
I hear him swear under his breath before he sets the towel down and gathers my face in his hands.
I know this is it. This is goodbye, and I want to screw my eyes shut, to not remember his shattered gaze. But I keep looking back, memorizing how he appears with his hair messy from my hands and his mouth puffy from my lips.
I need to. All we have left is this moment.
Micah bends to kiss me so tenderly that my eyes close automatically. I sigh when his lips draw away. I keep my lids shut as he rifles around for his clothes because I can’t bear to watch. My chest is so tight, I can scarcely breathe, and when I hear the door close behind him, the tears finally come.
32
MICAH
I can’t wipe my tears fast enough, so I say fuck it and let them come as I drive away from Aqua Vista. It feels too permanent. I should be excited about the opportunity ahead, but for the moment, I’m not. Instead, I’m emotional in a wholly different way. I honestly didn’t think leaving would affect me so much, having stayed away for years.
But I suppose between the house, boat, and marriage, I’ve always maintained a tenuous connection, almost like I could return at a moment’s notice. Not that anyone would want me after all I’ve done.