Weathering the Storm by Brynn Paulin

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

~ Becca ~

I had no idea what I was doing, but I pressed on. My fingers still tremored as I worked open Heller’s belt and popped free the button of his jeans. He groaned as I pulled down his zipper, purposely dragging the backs of my fingers along his hot length. Even through his underwear, the heat burned through to me. Pulling apart the sides, I leaned in and pressed my lips to him. Stretching up, I took the tip into my mouth through the fabric.

Heller groaned, his fingers going into my hair. We’d never done this, but I knew he didn’t have any more experience with sex than I did. I pressed my tongue to the wet spot his precum had made, and he gave a small thrust into my mouth. I sighed happily. Even so, I wanted him bare against my tongue.

Leaning back, I tugged down his jeans and boxer briefs while Heller toed out of his shoes. Soon, he was as naked from the waist down as I was. My fingers circled his length, struggling to meet around his girth as I stretched forward to take him between my lips. Feeling that warm, firm tip in my mouth for the first time sent a tremor through me. My core clenched, and the air seemed cool against my suddenly drenched folds. God, this turned me on. Hell, I’d already been turned on by his growly demeanor and all his y his growly demeanor and all his you’re mine declarations.

Determined, I pulled him deeper inside. Heller swore, his fingers back in my hair while his hips gave a tiny thrust. I could tell he tried to keep himself in check while I did this. I glided my hand up slightly to meet my lips as I took him as deep as I could, then I pulled back all the way to his head, leaving a glossy trail behind. My eyes rolled upward and met his heavy-lidded gaze while I took him again, my hand and mouth moving on his shaft in opposite directions, over and over.

I lashed my tongue over the veiny underside of his length then around the wide glans. To my surprise, I really enjoyed taking command of him this way. Yes, it was totally submissive, the position, the giving pleasure to my man who demanded he own me, but it turned me on so much that it took everything in me not to reach down and rub my fingers over my clit.

“Fuck,” Heller ground out, the word streaming from him, over and over, in a mantra of tortured pleasure. Suddenly, he wrenched free and before I could react, he was on his knees, kissing me wildly. His hands clasped my head while he commanded my mouth, devouring and claiming with his tongue.

My senses were so overwhelmed that I barely realized when he tipped me backward to the carpet. My knees automatically came around him as he wedged between my thighs. But he didn’t shove inside me. His mouth covered one of my exposed breasts. My shirt did nothing to shield me now as it splayed open around my torso. I didn’t move to shrug out of it, the fact that we hadn’t fully disrobed, an erotic undertone to this encounter. I’d gone from crying to crying out.

His teeth closed around my nipple, tugging and sending small frissons of pain through me. The flesh recoiled as he let go then lashed his tongue over the abused flesh. I moaned, arching up into him. I went to reach for him but found my wrists pressed to the carpet, held there by his hands while he pleasured me.

“Heller… Yes…” I whispered, inviting more. Begging for it. Complying, he took the other tip and plied it with the same treatment. Heat and more moisture flooded my core. It occurred to me, off-hand, that there might be quite a wet spot from sex, right in the entryway of my apartment. We hadn’t even made it the few feet to the living room.

I was burning, writhing beneath him while he plied such torturous pleasure to my breast that I was practically mindless. I was sure my neighbors would hear me if they ventured to the hallway. I didn’t care. All I cared about was Heller being here with me.

“I need you,” he groaned, kissing his way up to my neck, biting my shoulder lightly.

“Yes,” I agreed. I felt desperate for him.

“Are you mine?” he growled against my ear, lifting goosebumps along my limbs. I couldn’t hold back my shiver of pleasure while I arched into him, pressing my sensitized nipples against the rough weave of his polo. “Are you mine to bury my cock deep inside? To have those tight walls squeeze me until I can’t help but fill you with my seed? Mine to fuck until you can’t think of anything but me and how my dick erases everything but us.”

“Yes… Oh, please, Heller,” I begged, longing to reach up and clutch his shoulders so I could drag him to me but helplessly turned on by his control over me.

My breath caught when his hips canted and he pressed his tip to my opening, notching there with the promise of making me wilder. Then I sighed happily, so content, when he pushed inside me in one smooth stroke, all the way to the hilt.

“Jesus, Becca…” he groaned.

“Heller, please,” I pleaded, grinding my hips up into him. “I’ve missed you so much. I need you. Take me hard. Please. Let me have you.”

“You have me.” His mouth covered mine in a biting kiss, all teeth and tongue. His grasp on my wrists released, and I immediately speared my fingers into his hair, kissing him just as ferally and giving back as good as I received. Our hips crashed together, urgency so much more important than finesse. That would come later. Maybe. Right now, it was just proving to ourselves that we were together and that maybe, everything would be okay. I gave myself completely to him. I was his, but he was mine, too. Trying to give him up had been the worst mistake of my life. I needed him.

I gave myself over to the pistoning of his cock, his mouth on every bit of skin he could reach. One of my hands clenched on his hard buttock, feeling it contract and release with each brutal drive into me. My shoulders scooted on the carpet, then he wrapped an arm around my waist, keeping me still as he knelt up, holding my hips aloft while he drove even deeper. He uttered my name in a guttural stream. A prayer, a curse? Maybe both. It was tangled with my cries, a cacophony of pleasure.

My climax rocketed toward me, threatening to overwhelm me like a tsunami of unfettered ecstasy. I moaned as my walls clamped around him, waves washing through me, from my core to my extremities, faster and faster, as the world grayed to a pinpoint.

“Oh God, oh fuck…Becca,” Heller gasped as he powered through the vise that fisted around him as I went over the edge. His heat filled me, but I continued tumbling on the waves of the orgasm, just clinging to him while I shook.

“Don’t leave,” I murmured weakly when the grip of my climax waned, and I sank into the carpet.

“Never,” he promised. “Never leaving you.”

Even as he said it, I wasn’t sure how that could possibly work. He was going away to school in Michigan soon. And I… I was the local weathergirl in Podunk, Missouri. That seemed an awful far stretch for us to maintain.