I smile into her pussy. It’s impossible to stifle it, knowing I’m going to see her unravel in minutes, and own every inch of her pleasure. But instead of continuing, I pull back.
“You’re going to take my cock and you’re going to thank me for it. And then, Pixie, you’re going to come all over it. Do you hear me?”
“Baby, I love you, but my God your mouth—” And the praise cuts off as soon as I bury my cock inside of her. In one fast thrust of my hips, I’m balls deep, and it feels so fucking good that I’m already moments away from coming.
I pull back out slowly and hover, with just the tip at her entrance. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I want you to come all over me right fucking now, G.”
She opens her eyes and smirks. “You do know that a request like that is only asking for a woman to fake it, right?”
Chuckling, I push back into her hard and fast three times, knowing exactly how to get her there. Then I pull back out on the third, dragging so achingly slow, wanting to feel every bit of warmth she’s willing to give me. Her breathing picks up faster, her head tilted up, mouth open.
“Clench my fucking cock with your pussy and don’t let go. Do you hear me, Pixie?” I groan as I push into her again. And she does.My good girl.She practically chokes my cock as she grips me. And as soon as I move, pulling out again, she’s screaming.
I can feel her pulsing, and it breaks down whatever reserve I had for holding my own orgasm. I roll my hips into her repeatedly, because for some reason, I want every last drop of my cum as deep as it’ll go inside of her. A kink or a want that I’ve never once thought about, but the idea of painting her inside and out keeps the release buzzing through my body.
My body slumps over her, and I rest my forehead on her chest. Both of us breathing hard, coming down from the high those orgasms left in their wake.
“Please, let’s do that again,” she says as she drags her fingers through my hair. I laugh, feeling drunk on her. On the love we just made, on the idea that I can do this with her whenever I want now.
I can feel the wetness start to drip from where we’re still connected, so I lean back and grab my t-shirt from the neckline, pulling it over my head. All of that happened so quickly, we didn’t take our clothes off. I use it to wipe up just enough so that the disaster on this chair is left to a minimum.
Leaning forward, I bite her right nipple through her shirt, and she lets out a giggle. “I missed you so damn much.”
“Me too, baby.”
Hearing her call me that drives a chill across my shoulders and down my arms. I don’t know why it sets me off the way it does, but that word from her lips is the equivalent to scratching behind Milo’s ear. Speaking of my furry boy, I let out a small whistle, and he comes trotting down the stairs to where G and I are draped on each other.
She looks around the loft, and I see that she’s finally noticing a few more things that are new. First, the cut-out that breaks the wall from this loft to the next, and then her attention shifts to the front of the room toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook her strip of Main Street.
She sits up, asking, “You’ve really been staying here?”
I don’t answer her right away, instead, I stand, lifting my shorts back up, and make my way to the refrigerator to grab us waters. I’ll let her take in the things I’ve done since she’s been away.
“Where’re my sketch books? And cups of markers?”
I lean against the counter and crack open the water, still silent.
She jogs up the loft stairs and shouts from the top, “Did you just move in? What the fuck, Hanky?” She moves farther into her bedroom space, her mumblings getting quieter, so I move closer to the stairs. “I don’t remember you asking,” she shouts again. A few minutes later, as she moves around the upper level of the loft, I hear, “There’s no way that I’m sharing my closet with you. It was already too small to even be called a closet to begin–” Her voice cuts out. That’s when I know she’s found one of two upgrades in that space. I see her lean over the railing. “Did you… There’s a whole room that’s a closet up here. Where?… How’d that happen?”
I smile and start walking upstairs.
“You moved into my house,” she says, still in shock, turning around. In that moment, when I finally take in the look on her face, I have a flash of “oh fuck, this was stupid.”
“You left. So, I just went for it. I’m in this. I want this.”
She holds up her hand to silence me.Shit.
“You moved into my house. You apparently went ahead and made massive renovations to the space. You decided all of this on your own, while I was away!”
“If you’re not happy, then—” She holds her hand up higher, and I stop talking again.
“You’re not allowed to make life-altering decisions without me anymore. You understand?”
Anymore.
I nod, trying to stifle the smile that’s ever so slowly creeping out. She looks so serious; I’m on the verge of pissing myself right now, and smiling is my nervous tick at the moment.
She narrows her eyes at me and says, “My sketching stuff needs to go back to where I had it. Other than that, you did good, Hanky.” Then, she smiles. “I will promptly be moving all my things in that room that is supposed to be a closet. You’re also bringing your espresso maker, because my coffeepot is shit compared to that thing.”