Lost King by Piper Lennox (moboreader txt) 📗

back her hair, and lowers herself in front of me? If I weren’t already so stupidly in love with her, I’d be falling right now.

I sigh her name as she teases the tip of my cock around those kissable, biteable, fuckable lips. It’s a shame I can’t do all three at once.

Her tongue traces a vein on the underside of my shaft. Heat fills my face, pressure growing in my abdomen.

The second she takes me into her throat, my knees weaken, and I have to brace myself against the counter behind me.

“Damn, baby, give a guy some warning,” I pant. Her laugh hums across me.

I swallow hard and let my head fall back on my neck. The edge of my palm lands in something wet.

It’s her, I realize: all the liquid I drew out of her body, with my teasing mouth and fingers.

“Oh, God, Ruby—Ruby, you gotta stop.” My orgasm’s almost started. The more I think about that small puddle on the counter.... “I’m too close.”

She looks up, but doesn’t stop. I groan my warning again, finally getting the strength to guide her away from me, just before I can finish.

She wipes her mouth and pouts as I help her up. “I barely got to do you at all.”

I kiss her, combining our tastes until her complaints turn into moans.

“You’re building mine up, too,” I tell her, before my teeth sink into her bottom lip. I draw back and nod through the alcove, to the dining table. “Let’s go. Grand finale.”

“Fuck, baby. That’s exactly what I wanted.”

I smile. While he made sure all the curtains in the dining area were closed, I undressed down to nothing and positioned myself. I know the sight he just found—me, bent over the table with everything open to him—is driving him wild.

Clara and Juni warned me pregnancy would bring uncontrollable horniness, but I guess I’m one of the unlucky ones. Most of my days consist of fatigue and nausea, where sex is the last thing on my mind.

But every now and then, Theo manages to break through all that and remind me my sexual appetite is far from gone.

Like right now, when he pushes the head of his cock into me from behind, pauses, and bends down to kiss my spine. “I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he says. “The chance to taste your pussy, fuck you senseless, and come inside you.”

I’m sure he assumes it’s his movement—one hard, sudden drive of his length inside me—that makes me cry out in pleasure, so loud it echoes through our entire house, but it isn’t.

It’s his dirty talk. I’ve always loved it, but this new theme is a definite favorite. Novel, primal, and limited edition.

“I never want to use a condom again,” he pants, rocking his hips against my ass hard enough to screech the table forward. “I love this too much—being inside you exactly how we are. Feeling every single thing.”

“Me, too,” I manage. It’s almost impossible to speak; he’s driving into me at such a perfect angle, all I’ve got left are animal instincts. My one and only thought is, He feels so fucking good.

The cool surface of the table hardens my nipples. I feel them rub back and forth against the woodgrain, faster and harder when his pace picks up.

“Theo,” I cry, “I’m so close....”

And, just like I knew exactly how to position myself on this table for him, he knows my warning is really a plea. I want one more line. Something simple and dirty to echo in my head.

He slows, leaning down to kiss my back again.

“Beg me for my cum, Ruby,” he whispers. “Tell me you need it inside you.”

While I grip the edges of the table, my whimpers twist themselves into words. “I need your cum inside me, Theo,” I moan. My face burns. I feel a twinge of embarrassment, but it’s drowned in arousal.

The only thing I like more than his dirty talk...is how easily he makes me echo it.

How, the second I say it, I really believe it.

“I need it,” I say again. It stutters out of my mouth, over and over, until my orgasm swells and crashes.

Theo stiffens and releases inside me, one hand on my hip; the other, gently resting on my collarbone. He pulls me closer. He holds me against him.

He keeps me right there in his orbit, and himself in mine, until nothing in this universe could pull us apart.

“Hey. Let’s go to bed.”

“No,” I mumble. “I’m so comfortable.”

I haven’t moved for what feels like hours, too high on the afterglow of my orgasm. Too in love with this moment: my husband’s erection softening inside me, the warmth of his release spilling down my thighs...the soft, quiet darkness of the home we’re building together, resting peacefully all around us.

Theo laughs and slips out of me, then scoops me up. Lazily, I put my arms around his neck and shut my eyes while he carries me. I don’t want to study the shadows on the walls, or the unfinished projects still piled up around us. I just want to hear his heartbeat.

When I feel him lower me to the bed, I hold on tighter to his neck so he’ll climb in with me. He likes to disappear after we’ve made love, sometimes, to go play his piano.

Usually, I like it: falling asleep to the soft, slow versions of showtunes, his lullabies to only me.

But tonight, I want him beside me, not rooms apart. I want the pulse of his heart underneath my hands, not the pulse of quiet music in my ears.

“Stay.”

He kisses my forehead. “I am.”

We drift together. Our hands roam underneath the sheets. He finds the chill bumps on my arms.