Sweet Dreams
Page 88

“Nope, baby, you’re gonna watch in the mirror as I f**k you and I’m gonna do it until you see what I see.”
I stopped straining and stared into his eyes in the mirror.
“No,” I whispered as one of his hands slid down my belly and the other one ducked under my shirt and curled around my breast.
“Yes,” he whispered back.
“Tate –”
His hand cupped me between my legs and his other thumb slid across my nipple. I bit my lip and watched his eyes drop to his hand at my sex.
“Wood’s a player,” he whispered bizarrely as his fingers pressed in between my legs, his middle one hitting the spot, my hands moved to curl around the edge of the counter and his thumb did another swipe at my nipple. “He’s hit every decent piece in three counties.”
His middle finger pressed deeper and made a lazy circle.
“Tate, please –”
Tate’s head dropped and his bearded lips tickled my neck.
“Saw him come outta the garage at you, I knew,” he muttered against my skin. “I was strugglin’ with it but I knew then. I knew you were my girl.”
My breath stuck in my throat as his finger did another lazy circle, his tongue touched my neck and his finger and thumb rolled my nipple.
Oh God, but it was beautiful.
My hands grasped the counter and I tried to stay strong.
“Tate –”
His finger stopped pressing and his hand slid up and then down, this time in my panties and the pressure came back, skin to skin, another lazy circle.
Delicious.
My body trembled and Tate’s mouth moved to my ear.
“He didn’t f**k you while I was gone. A miracle. Respect. He knew what he had in his bed.”
“Please,” I whispered and his finger and thumb gently tugged my nipple and my breath snagged.
“Even if he f**ked you, I woulda still won you back. Mad as I was when I left you that night in the hall at the bar, I was half over it by the time I got to my bike, by the time I saw you at the pool the next day, mostly just nursin’ it ‘cause I’m a dick.”
“Stop,” I breathed and I meant him talking. My body was too far gone to want him to stop doing what he was doing to it.
His finger slid back and I opened my legs to allow it access.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured in my ear and reached even deeper, his finger sliding inside.
My head fell back on his shoulder. “Tate.”
His teeth nipped my ear and his finger started moving in and out.
“Wet, baby,” he whispered there.
“Yes,” I whispered back and turned my head toward him.
His came up, he knew what I wanted and, thank God, he gave it to me. He kissed me, deep and hard as he finger f**ked me, the fingers of his other hand rolling my nipple, his thumb tweaking my clit. He kept kissing me while his hands moved on me until my breath started coming in gasps. I was so close, my h*ps were moving with his hand between my legs, reaching for it.
His head came up, my eyes fluttered open and saw his on me.
“Look, baby,” he urged.
I ground down on his hand and it stopped moving, his finger deep inside and his eyes went to the mirror.
“Jesus, Laurie, baby, look at you.”
My eyes followed his, mainly because I wanted him to keep at me and I’d do just about anything he told me to do to get it.
But what I saw made my heart skip and my legs fail.
Tate, dark, tall, behind me, his hands on me; me, blonde, my face flushed, my eyes hooded, tucked tight against him. A perfect fit, made to be there. A perfect match, made to be together.
Made to be there.
Made to be together.
We looked great.
We looked hot.
We looked beautiful.
My eyes went to his in the mirror.
“Fuck me,” I whispered, his eyes locked on mine, then he shoved his face in my neck, his arm fastened around my ribcage again but his finger slid out of me, then my panties were yanked down passed my h*ps and then I felt him working his jeans at my backside.
“Tilt your ass for me, Laurie,” he muttered into my neck and I did as asked, I felt the tip of his c**k and then he thrust inside.
My head flew back.
He started moving and I watched in the mirror as Tate f**ked me, one arm wrapped around my ribcage, his torso bent over mine, his other hand between my legs, finger at my clit, his eyes on mine in the mirror.
“Do you see it?” he demanded, his thrusts building in power, his finger circling faster.
“I see it,” I breathed, the urge building inside me, my h*ps rearing back to meet his thrusts.
He drove in, burying himself to the root and stayed planted.
“Why do I want you here, Laurie?” he growled.
“Don’t stop, baby,” I pleaded.
He ground his c**k deeper. “Why do I want you here?”
“Tate –”
“Why, baby?”
“We’re perfect,” I whispered. “We fit,” I kept whispering and pressed back into his hips. “Honey, I’m made to be here.”
He pulled out so fast I gasped and then I was over his shoulder again and he walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom. With a bump of his shoulder he tossed me on the bed, straightened and yanked his t-shirt off. Then he reached down and tore my undies down my legs. Then he spread them wide and he was covering me, back inside, thrusting harder, faster, pounding. God, ecstasy.
His mouth took mine in a deep, wet kiss then I tore it away.
“Tate,” I moaned as it hit me, my nails scored a path up his back and my spine arched, pressing my torso into his.
It took me awhile to ride the wave and come down and, when I did, he wasn’t done.
“Wrap me up, Laurie,” he groaned between grunts and I folded my limbs tight around him. His mouth came to mine. “There it is,” he muttered then growled deep and plunged deeper as he came.
I felt it and listened and held him tight and when he was done his teeth tagged my lower lip, giving it a gentle tug before he let it go and his tongue slid along it.
I closed my eyes, my mind completely clear and just let myself feel the sweet path of his tongue.
It went away and stayed away and I noticed I didn’t even feel his breath against my lips so I opened my eyes again.
Tate’s head was tipped back and he was staring beyond me, a hint of surprised puzzlement in his face.
“What –?” he started, stopped, a slow, lazy smile spread on his face and his eyes moved to mine.
I was so busy watching his lips framed by his beard smiling it took awhile to feel his body’s gentle tremors and awhile longer to realize it was silent laughter.