Moments In Time (A Time For Love Book 3) Page 5

  “Did you know,” he began slowly, sounding like he was trying not to yell, “that there is a hole in the crotch of this thing?”

  I bit my lip. Oops. Busted. “Um. Yes?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

  I pulled the Spanx from his hands. “Well, look at it! It’s barely big enough for a skinny girl,” I pointed out. I didn’t even bother to add that I was nobody’s idea of a skinny girl, since we were both well aware of that. “I would have peed all over myself!” I said, pushing three fingers through the tiny flap, since that was all that really fit through it. “Also, how the heck was I supposed to wipe?” I shook my head. “It was better to hold it.”

  “For nine hours?” he asked, sounding exasperated.

  I shrugged uncomfortably. “Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  He closed his good eye, shaking his head, looking like he was reaching for patience. But then his face split in a grin. “I love you,” he said, looking at me. “I really, really do.”

  I smiled. “I really, really love you, too.”

  He leaned in for a kiss, his lips soft and sweet. “Good. Now after all this bullshit, can you finally just admit that you want me to fuck your ass?”

  I inhaled sharply, my eyes going wide. “Um. Sam?”

  He smiled knowingly. “Yes, my love?”

  I bit my lip, steeling my nerves. It was easier now that he’d already said it. “Can you please fuck my ass?”

  He growled, pulling me into his arms and kissing me greedily, delving into my mouth with purpose. Sam was the first guy I’d ever kissed who really made me understand the phrase “tongue fucking.” He made love to me with his mouth, making my legs wobble and wetness flood my core every time.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he rumbled. He pulled me back into the bedroom, shedding his shirt as he went. Then he laid me back on the bed. “Turn over. Hands and knees.”

  I groaned as I did as he said. “In my bag,” I told him, watching him over my shoulder. “Front zip pocket. I brought lube. Use it all if you need to. I read that it really only hurts if you don’t use enough, so I got a big bottle. You’re supposed to use it on your fingers and your cock, too.” I froze for a second, a horrible thought occurring to me. “Oh, God. I mean, if you want to use your fingers. I didn’t bring a dildo or anything.” Shit. Why hadn’t I brought a dildo? I thought I’d remembered everything when I was packing last night, based on all the different scenarios I’d imagined in my weird anxiety-ridden brain. I was usually prepared for every disaster.

  “I guess I could do the stretching thing, if you don’t want to,” I continued, trying to salvage this. “I mean, it would kind of be hard for me to reach, since I have such a big ass, but I’ll do it if I have to.”

  Sam pulled the bottle of lube from my bag, tearing off a condom from the strip I had stashed in there while he was at it. He grinned at me, somehow both seductive and reassuring at the same time. “Oh, I’m doing it,” he promised.

  I hitched a breath. “Okay,” I squeaked. “Good.”

  I watched him saunter toward me, his boxers still tented lewdly. When he reached the bed, he tossed the lube and condom on it, then reached for his waistband. He pulled them down slowly, because he knew I was watching, the cocky bastard. Once he was finished, he leaned forward, humming softly as he ran a hand up and down my spine.

  Then he spanked me twice on each cheek, each blow coming before the sting had receded from the previous one.

  I groaned, clutching the sheets as my lady bits flooded with wetness. I don’t know what it was about him, about this connection between us. I was a total wuss pretty much any other time. I cried every time I got a papercut, for God’s sake. But when Sam handled me roughly, when he pulled my hair or spanked me or drove into me harder and harder still, I felt like every single nerve in my body was on fire, like I would combust from pure desire.

  “I fucking love this big ass,” he growled, rubbing gently where he’d smacked it.

  I peeked at him over my shoulder, smiling shyly. “Then you’re gonna love fucking it,” I whispered.

  He took a ragged breath, reaching for the lube with shaky hands. “Damn right I will.”

  And then he got to work, cracking the cap open and squeezing a generous dollop onto his hand. He made sure to spread it to (gulp!) all his fingers before bringing them where I needed them.

  “Already so wet for me,” he murmured, running his lube-slicked hand from my clit, slithering through my folds, and finally to my backdoor. He teased my hole gently, driving me crazy. “You really want this, don’t you?”

  “Uh huh,” I breathed, unable to give him more of an answer. I was going out of my mind with lust. I just needed him inside me. Fingers, cock, tongue – I didn’t care at this point.

  His index finger slipped inside my hole, and he pushed gently, trying to get past the thick ring of muscle there. I breathed deeply, trying my best to relax, but it was tough. I’d been anticipating this for days. I knew that Sam and I would see each other today, and I knew it was the perfect opportunity to reunite with him at long last. This was the linchpin in my plan. I knew that this was the perfect way for me to show him that I was ready to commit fully to our relationship, that I was holding nothing back.

  So I closed my eyes, imagining the bliss I’d feel when he was fucking me. In the meantime, he continued to wriggle his fingertip just inside me, gently persuading my body to let him in. After a minute, his other hand rubbed its way down my belly, then circled my clit slowly. It felt so good that I melted, my head falling to the bed. Finally, his finger slipped in further, sliding all the way up to his second knuckle like it was nothing at all. He flexed it experimentally, stretching me.

  “Oh my fucking God,” I sighed, digging my fingers into the sheets once again. It burned slightly, but in a good way. It wasn’t too much, like I expected it to be. It just felt good.

  “Okay?” he asked, stilling his motions.

  “Don’t you dare fucking stop,” I hissed, glaring at him over my shoulder. It felt too good, too decadent, to stop now.

  He chuckled. “There’s my greedy girl,” he crooned.

  And then he pulled his finger from me abruptly. A whine escaped me, and I scowled at him again. “Did I or did I not just say ‘don’t stop?’”

  His eyebrows flew up in surprise, and he grinned. “Well damn. Look at you, you fucking vixen.” He slapped my ass again, and I moaned.

  “Sam,” I pleaded, pushing back against him. His hard-on brushed against my thigh, and I moaned. “I need you,” I whimpered. “Stop teasing me. Please.”

  He hummed soothingly, his thumb rubbing my clit faster now. “I’ve got you,” he rumbled. His finger reappeared at my hole, now joined by another. He pinched my clit between his thumb and index finger, which almost – almost – distracted me from the fact that he inserted both fingers unceremoniously into my ass, sliding in all the way.

  “Oh my fucking God!” I cried out as an orgasm shook through me, taking me completely by surprise. I clenched the sheets between my fingers, gritting my teeth as I rode wave after wave of pleasure.

  When I came back to Earth, I heard Sam tearing open the foil packet of the condom. A moment later, I heard him open the lube again. I twisted my head to watch as he slicked it along his length. Hunh. That must have been some orgasm – I hadn’t even realized he’d removed his fingers from my ass.

  “That was so fucking hot,” he growled as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling behind me. “I wanted to stretch you out some more, but I seriously can’t wait.” He shot me an apologetic look as he lined himself up, the blunt head of his dick pressing against my hole.

  Yeah, fuck waiting. I shook my head firmly. “Do it. Please, Sam, just fuck me.”

  He grinned, bending to kiss me, quick and dirty. “Anything for you,” he whispered.

  Then he pressed his hips forward, and the tip of his dick slipped inside me, aided by probably half the conte
nts of an economy-size bottle of lube.

  “Oh my fucking God,” we both groaned in unison.

  “Baby,” he continued in a guttural voice. “So fucking good.”

  I closed my eyes, breathing deeply to push through the burn. It hurt, more than I thought it would. His fingers had not at all prepared me for this. But with each slow, deep breath, it hurt less, until finally I felt like I could take more.

  “Okay?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  I nodded. “More,” I urged.

  He took a deep breath, pushing forward another couple of inches. “Christ,” he gritted out. “So fucking tight.”

  I moved slightly, testing the waters. It felt good, better than I expected. The burn was gone, and all that was left was a feeling of fullness, like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

  “More,” I begged, pushing back to take him in further.

  His fingers dug into my hips, and I heard him inhale sharply. “God, I fucking love you,” he breathed.

  A growl rumbled through my throat. “Less talking, more fucking.”

  He let out a shaky laugh, pulling out slowly, then sliding back in. He repeated the same motion again and again, inching forward a little bit each time, until finally he was seated all the way inside me.

  “Goddamn,” he huffed. “So. Fucking. Perfect.”

  I hummed in agreement, unable to speak. He felt so good. I never, ever in a million years thought I’d enjoy this. Before Sam, my ass was a no man’s land, never breached even by me. But that first time we’d had sex, when he licked me there, it was like he’d flipped a switch in me. I craved his attention there like I’d never craved anything before. And I’d never looked back.

  He pulled out again, until he was almost all the way out, then thrust back in slowly. I felt everything, every ridge and vein, every slide of the flared head of his cock against that ring of muscle. With just a few thrusts, I was already right back at the edge of another orgasm.

  But I needed more.

  “Faster,” I pleaded, my hips pushing back against him of their own accord. “Please, Sam, fuck me harder.”

  “I’m trying not to hurt you,” he groaned, gradually picking up the pace.

  Too gradually. “You’re not hurting me. Just fuck me already.”

  His fingers tightened on my hips, hard enough to bruise. “Anything,” he huffed, “for you.”

  And finally, finally, he snapped his hips into me, stroking in and out at a furious pace. We both fell silent, and the only sounds in the room were the slapping of our bodies against each other, my soft moans every time he bottomed out, our labored breathing as we loved each other with abandon.

  He was the first to break the silence. “Not gonna last,” he growled, as his thrusts grew erratic. His hold on me slackened, and I felt his head pressed against my shoulder blades. “Need you to come.”

  I moaned, my eyes fluttering shut. I really needed that, too. “I need…”

  His lips pressed against me. “Tell me,” he murmured. “Tell me what you need, love. Tell me how to make you come.”

  “I…” I reached back, my hand scrabbling at his. He gripped it tight, twining our fingers together. “Touch me,” I begged.

  He pressed our hands to my chest, and I leaned into it, bracing my elbows on the bed. Then his other hand came around my front, slithering down my belly.

  “Here?” His breath fanned out over my shoulder, his fingertips brushing my folds. “You want me here?”

  “Yes,” I whined as he pushed one finger slowly into my pussy. “God, yes, Sam.”

  “You want me to fuck you with my fingers while my cock fucks your ass?” he growled.

  “Yes!” I cried, pushing my hips back. God, it felt so amazing. He was on top of me, surrounding me, inside of me. He was everywhere.

  “That’s my dirty girl.” He pushed another finger into me, his thumb pressing against my clit. “You gonna come for me, Jamy?” He let go of my hand, turning my head to kiss me deeply. His tongue, cock, and fingers all fucked me in the same rhythm, pushing me over the edge.

  In the next breath, I came. All the sounds, the smells, the feeling of him invading all of me, was too much. If it weren’t for him holding me up, I would probably have collapsed. As it was, I felt lightheaded, dizzy with pleasure. I was drunk on Sam.

  He groaned as he broke the kiss, pulling himself back up to his knees. Then he gripped my hips with both hands, pounding into me hard, his pace growing ragged as his own climax neared.

  “Give it to me, Sam,” I moaned as my I rested my head in my forearms. “Please.”

  His head dropped back, his spine stiffening. Then he groaned loudly as he thrust into me one last time. I could feel him spill into the condom deep inside my ass, and I shivered, knowing I’d brought him there.

  When he was finally done, he bent forward, resting his head on my back, panting against my oversensitive skin.

  “I love you,” he rumbled, pressing his lips to my back.

  “I love you, too,” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

  He hummed as he pulled out slowly, holding onto the condom tightly. Then he rolled off the bed, shuffling over to the bathroom. I heard him flushing the condom, and a moment later he reappeared with a warm, wet washcloth. He cleaned me gently, thoroughly, his gaze affectionate as he looked down at me.

  When he was done, I closed my eyes, rolling over onto my back and laying a hand across my face. “That was unbelievable.”

  He climbed onto the bed, flopping down next to me. “Yeah, it was.”

  “We should do that again,” I mumbled as he pulled me into his arms.

  “Tonight?” he asked, and I couldn’t tell if he sounded hopeful or scared.

  I moved my arm, cracking one eye open. “Maybe give me some time to recover,” I said, stifling a yawn. I felt exhausted. Wrung out. Definitely not up for round two, at least not anytime soon.

  He sighed. “Thank God.”

  I frowned. “You didn’t like it?”

  He leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “I loved it,” he said, his good eye shining. “But you damn near killed me, woman.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, I guess this whole ‘asking for what I want’ thing has its ups and downs,” I replied as I gently ran my fingers over his bruised cheek.

  “I’d say this was definitely an up,” he declared.

  I yawned again, letting it out this time. My eyes roamed over his face. I loved to look at him, even as battered as he was now.

  “Well,” I murmured. “I’ve finally given you a matching pair of shiners, just like I promised.”

  “Definitely gave me the fists of fury.” He laughed, pulling me tighter against him. “You should do it more often.”

  “What, give you a black eye?” I asked, horrified.

  He shook his head, giving me a cheeky smile as he tweaked my nose. “No, ask for what you want.”

  I bit my lip, looking up at him nervously. This was the perfect opportunity to execute the final part of my plan. “Like, right now?”

  He grinned. “Yeah?” His eyebrows went up, and he looked at me expectantly. “What do you want, my love?”

  I took a deep breath. Come on, Jamy. Just say it.

  “Well,” I squeaked. Then I cleared my throat, giving myself a little mental pep talk. I could do this. I could totally do this.

  Oh, God. I couldn’t do this. Could I?

  “Well?” he echoed, smiling down at me patiently. He was always so patient with me. Even when I’d tried to break up with him, he’d waited for weeks while I got my shit together. But I was tired of waiting. I never wanted to break up again. I wanted forever with him, and I wanted it now.

  “Well,” I repeated, taking a deep, steadying breath. I’d never been this bold, but there was a first time for everything, right? “I was kind of thinking I want to marry you.”

  THE END

  (Still only for now! Keep going, you’re almost there!)

  “You
look so beautiful.”

  I looked up to see some blonde chick I’d never met staring at Hannah and me. We were sitting at a table to the side of the dance floor, resting our feet. Hannah had been bitching about her shoes all day, and just ten minutes of cocktail hour mingling had left her wincing with every step. I guess her pain was understandable. Why anyone expected short girls like us to suddenly be tall just because we were getting married was beyond me.

  But then, I’d foregone all this wedding pageant nonsense and dragged my man straight down to the courthouse when it was our turn. Todd and I had gotten married in our sweatpants by some ancient judge with a bad toupee. And I’d never looked back – even if my abuela gave me endless shit for it.

  Then again, my abuela gave me endless shit for pretty much existing. It was how she showed her love.

  As for me, baby número three had fucked my circulation all up, and my feet looked kind of like that chubby-ass cartoon cat that dressed like a mermaid and ate sushi. My three-year-old loved that fucker. And the cat comparison was really not an exaggeration, because another fun side effect of pregnancy? You grow stray hair everywhere. Like, that thick, jet-black shit that’s all, here I am, look at me. I’d had my feet waxed along with my legs yesterday, because ain’t nobody maneuvering around a baby bump the size of fucking Jupiter just to shave. I’d had them do my chin and my chest while they were at it, too. Yes, you read that right. My awesome pregnancy tits looked way less awesome with hair on them, let me tell you.

  Anyway, I’d taken the first opportunity tonight to kick off my two-hundred-dollar glorified flip-flops and rest my swollen ass for a spell. Hannah had joined me a few minutes ago, and we’d been shooting the shit ever since.

  Which is where random blonde chick found us. She looked all awestruck as she stared at us, and yeah, I guess my best friend did look gorgeous today. For a ginger, anyway. She was definitely rocking the sickeningly-in-love glow, that’s for sure.