The man knew what to do with his tongue. Perhaps it was because it had been so long, perhaps it was because I’d been so damn horny, but I was quick to come. I wasn’t complaining and I was sure I made Roark feel like the stud he was, but I was crying out his name and dripping all over his face in record time.
I was a panting, sweaty, happy mess when he kissed his way up my body.
“God, I missed that tongue of yours.”
When he loomed over me, propped up with his hand, he grinned. His mouth was still wet, and his beard. I shouldn’t even think about how sexy his beard was. “You only missed my tongue?”
Reaching between us, I took hold of his cock, gripped it with my fingers. Because it was so large, I couldn’t get my fingers to touch. I remember being amazed by his size and I still was.
“It’s been so long,” I whispered.
He moved his hand away and settled himself between my thighs. His cock knew exactly where to go and nudged right up against my slick opening. “I’ll be gentle.” He slid in, parting me wide until I was completely filled. “At first.”
My eyes fell closed and my body went from zero to sixty again, his cock nudging and stroking sensitive spots. He’d been the only man to find my G-spot and he knew just how to hit it with that big cock of his.
Bending my knees, I brought my legs up, higher, then higher still to take him deeper.
He rocked into me, slowly at first, but when I came again—how could I hold back when he felt so good and knew exactly what to do with his cock—he lost all sense of control. I could feel my inner walls ripple and pulse around him.
“Mine,” he growled, leaning down to murmur in my ear. His chest pressed into mine, the feel of his body rasping over my tender nipples had me squeezing him deep within.
“Yes,” I replied. “Come. Please, Roark, I need to feel you come. Fill me up. Please.”
I wasn’t past begging. I needed to know I could satisfy him. It made no sense, for I knew he was aroused by me, but his orgasm was the ultimate proof that he could find pleasure in my body. With me.
I felt him thicken and swell in me, his thrusts becoming harder. He hooked the back of my knee and opened me wider for him. The sounds of fucking filled the room. Slaps of flesh, whimpers, harsh breathing. The scent of it clung to our skin, mixed, melded just as we were.
“Natalie,” he groaned as he held himself deep, filled me. Made me his again.
It was then that I cried, pulling him down so I could wrap my arms around him. He was just where I’d wanted him to be for so long. Over me, pressing me down with his solid weight. Him thick and heavy inside me. His seed seeping out. His heartbeat as frantic as mine.
He tried to soothe me, stroking my hair back from my face, kissing me gently, but I kept on crying. When he shifted to his side and pulled me on top of him, our positions switched, he held me as the tears kept falling, his cock still deep inside. I let it all bleed away until it was just Roark and me again. And Noah, our son, the proof of our love.
Chapter Twelve
Natalie
I woke in bed, where Roark had carried me when the tears dried. Glancing at the bedside alarm clock, I saw that it was about four in the morning. It was still dark outside, and I was too comfortable to move. I snuggled into the heavy blankets, happier than I’d ever been. Roark was here, with me. With us.
Reaching for him, my hand came in contact with cold, empty sheets.
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Panic gripped me and I sat quickly, looking around my bedroom in the faint light, searching for my mate, afraid he’d changed his mind, gone back to Trion without me. Had he been there at all? Had it been a dream? My body felt well used, my muscles were sore, my pussy ached. I felt his seed in me and knew it hadn’t been a dream at all.
It was stupid, I knew. After the way he’d made love to me, held me when the tears came, I had no reason to doubt his devotion to me or to our son.
Still, old habits die hard, and I’d woken many nights over the past year crying and afraid, reliving the nightmare of the attack in my dreams. Imagining him dead, just like the guards who had saved my life in that transport room. Just like the doctor.
Heart racing, I strained to hear him. To hear Noah. Or the damn grandfather clock on the first floor. Anything but cold, empty stillness.
Silence greeted me, and unoccupied space. The door to Noah’s room I kept open just a crack, enough for me to hear him crying, but not so much that I heard every breath and wiggle of his precious little body.
The first two or three weeks after I’d brought him home, I’d checked him about every thirty minutes, worried he’d stop breathing. But now, I slept hard and uninterrupted. Four in the morning. He was a good sleeper, but this was generally the time of night Noah woke up hungry, grumpy, and wet.
Where was Roark?
I slid from bed, naked from Roark’s loving. He’d carried me here and taken me again, sliding into me from behind, his cock stretching me open as he caressed me with his hands, played with my ringed nipples and my clit, made me come in a whimpering, quivering mess. By the time he was finished with me, I’d fallen asleep in the cocoon of his arms, his chest pressed to my back, his cock deep inside.