Zip, Zero, Zilch
Page 55

I reach for the waist of her jeans and unbutton them, since her hands are busy holding up her bra.
I shove them, along with her panties, down over her hips, and then I kiss her as I walk her back toward the bed. “Next time, we’ll do this slowly. But I can’t wait.”
“Okay,” she says against my lips. Her tongue tangles with mine, until I push her back on the bed. She sits down, and I unbutton my jeans and start to slide them down, but she grabs my ass and pulls me down on top of her. “Now,” she says.
I reach down between her legs, because I need to be sure she’s as ready as I am. She’s slick and wet and so hot. I pull a condom from my back pocket, which is now down around my knees, tear it open with my teeth, and roll it on.
I swipe past her clit and she sifts her fingers through my hair, pulling gently. She spreads her thighs wide, and I settle between them. My pants are half on and half off, and I don’t care. I couldn’t get them down over my boot without a lot of work, anyway. I sink inside her in one harsh thrust.
She cries out.
“Are you okay?” I look into her face. Her eyes are closed, her mouth hangs open, and tiny little breaths fall onto my cheek like humid raindrops.
“Don’t stop,” she says.
She grabs my ass and pulls me into her. The musky scent of her sweat tickles my nose, and I lick the salt from the side of her neck. She lets go of the bra, and I pull it away with my teeth, and look down at her tits. I wrap my lips around one of her nipples and give it a tug as I press as far inside her as I can go. I hold it, grinding into her.
“God, you feel so good.”
“Fuck me, Sam. Hard. Please.”
She rocks her hips and takes me deeper. I can’t wait. I can’t. I want to make this last, but I can’t. My balls are already trying to crawl up my throat.
I sit up a little and push her right leg against her chest, and put my weight on it. I can see myself sinking inside her from this angle, my dick all shiny and wet. I spread her lower lips and find her clit. It’s swollen and round and my thumb slides across it. She stops pushing against me and stills. “Yeah,” she breathes.
I push in and pull out in quick, deep strokes. She cries out my name. “Sam!”
“Oh God, Peck,” I say. “God, you feel so good. I can’t stop.”
She squeezes my dick when she comes. I stop, and enjoy the little flutters of her pussy squeezing me tightly, like a hot, wet fist. She rocks against my hand, and I let her ride out her orgasm, watching her face closely. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. So right. So mine.
“I need to come,” I plead. I wanted to make this last at least thirty seconds, but that’s not going to happen.
She freezes. I take my weight off her leg and she lowers it. I don’t know what she wants for me to do. I’m going to marry this woman. I know that.
“Come, Sam,” she growls in my ear. “Come for me now.”
I wrap my arms under her shoulders so I can power into her, pressing as hard as I can go, as deep as I can get. She holds me close, her arms wrapped around me as I let go deep inside her.
I’ve never come so hard in my life. I feel like part of me is pouring into her. My heart. My brain. My center. Me.
“God, I love you so much,” I say, as I collapse on top of her. She tangles her fingers in my hair and scratches my scalp with her fingernails. I’m spent. I don’t even have enough energy to roll off of her. “God, I didn’t know it was going to be like that,” I tell her quietly.
She jerks under me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that was the best, most explosive fucking orgasm I have ever had. I thought the top of my head was going to blow off.”
She laughs, and it pushes my softening dick out of her. I lift my head and kiss the tip of her nose.
Her cheeks are rosy and she’s suddenly fidgety. “You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She smiles softly up at me. “I’m okay. Now that you’re here, I’m fine. I really missed you.” She squeezes my arm. “Why are you here?”
“Well, I almost died, and when I didn’t, I realized the only thing I wanted was you, so here I am.”
She shoves my shoulder so I have no choice but to roll off of her. She jerks the edge of the blanket to cover herself. “What?”
I heave a sigh. “It’s a long story.”
“Then you had better start telling it.”
I dispose of the condom and spend the next half hour telling her all about my afternoon. She’s appropriately wounded, offended, relieved, and grateful. She lies quietly beside me when my story is over.
“Thanks for doing that,” she says. “For me. You didn’t have to.”
“I’d do just about anything for you.”
“Well, if you ever do anything that stupid again, I might have to kill you myself.”
She lies there for a long while without saying a word.
“Hey, cupcake!” I say, like I just had a great idea.
She laughs. “Hey, Sam.”
“We need to get married.”
She lifts her head. “What?”
“We’re in Vegas. We can get married by an Elvis impersonator.” I press my hands together like I’m praying. “Pretty please,” I beg.
She laughs again. I don’t think she’s aware that I’m serious.
“I’m serious. Totally.” I stare into her dark eyes.
“Why?”