Under My Skin (Skin Deep #2) Page 50
I tangled my fingers in his thick hair and held his mouth against me, thrusting against his tongue in a frantic race to finally finish but he fought me, wrenching himself away as I cried out. “Please! PLEASE!” I cried, wanting, no needing him to continue.
“Up.”
It was a short, harsh command but his tone brooked no argument. I scrambled to obey, mindless with lust and wanting nothing more than to have his hands and mouth on me again, kneeling on the bed beside him. He moved to lie on his back, his hands beckoning for me to straddle him. I complied, positioning myself over his hips but he shook his head, giving me a devilish grin. He crooked a finger at me and, giving him an answering grin, I moved to straddle his head, instead, and before I even got situated he grasped my hips in an almost punishing grip and pulled me down onto his face, his mouth sealing over my clit and sucking it roughly.
I tried to brace myself, not wanting to smother him with my lady parts, but he wasn’t having it. He went wild, eating at me with abandon, lips, tongue, and teeth plying my tender flesh with precision, every move designed to make me lose my mind. In the end, I could do nothing but ride his mouth, fucking his tongue as it thrust and parried inside me, dragging over every sensitive nerve ending until I was coming, screaming out my orgasm until I was hoarse, shuddering as he lapped every drop of my release from my folds.
I collapsed to the side of him, barely wincing at his grunt when my knee connected with the side of his jaw. I mumbled an almost incoherent apology to him and then whimpered when he moved over me, kneeling between my thighs. I peered up at him through bleary eyes that widened as he dragged the head of the searing hot, swollen hardness jutting from his body through my already drenched nether lips, circling my clit before slapping against it gently but rapidly, sending me into overdrive.
A high-pitched, keening wail ripped from my lips as he slid the length of himself down and pushed inside me, the walls of my sex clenching around him with greediness as he hit my sweet spot hidden there. He pushed in, balls deep, holding himself still for just a second before pulling almost all the way out and sliding back in, moving in and out with smooth, gliding thrusts that steadily built the waves again until he shouted, spurting inside me as I soared into the crescendo, a perfect, shining moment of pure ecstasy that left both of us boneless, breathless, and completely satiated.
Chapter 24
Two Months Later
“NO! Aw, come on man…Grady…No, no, NO!”
I ran toward the kitchen and stopped in the doorway, unable to help the laughter that bubbled up and burst free when I saw my big, strong, hotter than sin fiancé standing by the French doors leading outside to the back deck, scowling at the squirming bundle of damp black fur he was holding in his outstretched arms.
Grady came to live with us about two weeks ago, and he was growing like a weed already. Now, the funny thing about how we got him…well, let’s just say that Doug got really friendly with the black lab he had been chasing. The black lab, whose name turned out to be Diva- apparently she was one- and her owner, who figured out the baby daddy by following the dog one day when she got out again, showed up on Emma’s front porch with a basket full of wriggling little yellow and black bodies, saying she didn’t want to give all the puppies away without at least offering pick of the litter to Emma and Luke.
By some lucky strike of fate, I just happened to be at Emma’s house hanging out with her. When Doug, faced with eight, yes EIGHT, little versions of himself and his little doggie lover, sat down on his haunches and howled, two of the pups had immediately sat up and began howling/yipping right along with him. One of them was a little yellow pup who looked like his father. His name is D.J., which stands for Doug, Jr. He’s very happy living in his new home and takes great pride in driving his father nuts. The other one was my little black pup. I couldn’t resist him- he was just like his father…and who doesn’t love Doug?
Jackson turned and I saw the reason for the scowl. A rather large wet spot spread out across his stomach, the saturated material of his shirt sticking to his skin. Jackson glared at me for laughing and, as he stomped by me, deposited the pup in my arms as he went to change. I followed, grabbing the towel hanging on the back of a kitchen chair to dry him with, cradling the solid weight of the dog and cooing to him as he sweetly licked my chin and I dried him off.
“Awww…poor baby must have had to go so bad…didn’t you take him out?” I asked, knowing I was egging him on but I just couldn’t help it.
“Woman!” Jackson warned. “Yes I took him out! You think I don’t know how to handle a damned dog? We were coming in and he pissed all down the front of me when I picked him up!” He scowled at the puppy again, muttering, “Little bastard.”
“Hey!” I shouted, shielding the puppy’s ears with my hand as I cradled him to my chest. “He has a mom and a dad! Don’t call him names!” I giggled at Jackson’s exasperated expression and tipped my face up to receive the chaste kiss he planted on my lips.
He sighed and rubbed the top of Grady’s head good-naturedly. “You about ready?”
I nodded, grabbing my sweater with one hand, still holding the pup with the other. Jackson took him from me and I wrapped my sweater around my ever-expanding waistline, smoothing my hands down the full curve of my belly. It seemed like the moment I hit my second trimester, I just popped, looking like I was smuggling a small basketball under my shirt. I shoved my feet into a pair of boots, shaking my head when Jackson double checked to make sure they didn’t have a heel on them.
I rolled my eyes and he just shrugged. He was so protective of me and, not that I would have anyway, but he didn’t want me wearing ‘insensible’ (his word, not mine…I swear we’d gone back to the stone ages because of this pregnancy) shoes in the snow.
Christmas was right around the corner, roughly two weeks away. We were going to Luke and Emma’s house tonight for a Christmas party. We’d had a blast at the Halloween party (not quite as much fun as the last one) and Thanksgiving was a hoot, but we’d decided to combine Christmas and our new tradition of the “Adult Slumber Party.” Of course, this time it wasn’t going to be a drunken one…at least not for me and Emma.
I took Grady back from Jackson and bundled him up in his little doggy sweater (don’t judge me) and carried him out to Jackson’s new SUV while Jackson followed, his arms overflowing with board games and our overnight bags. He loaded everything into the vehicle and went back inside to get the cake box, one of the most important items of the night.
When we got to their house, Luke and Brandon came out to help Jackson grab everything while I took Grady inside. We were greeted by a yellow blur that sped past me through the door and out into the snow, where he promptly laid down at the bottom of the stairs. Doug woofed once and I swear he was smiling the most smug smile I’d ever seen. I saw why when D.J. ran out the door and skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs, too afraid to go down them. He sat down and barked, howled, and whined his discontent until Emma came out with a long-suffering sigh and picked him up, kissing his little head.
Shaking our heads at the dogs’ antics, we went inside and put the puppies into a gated off area Emma had set up for them. It was one of those octagonal play yard things that worked perfectly for keeping them out of trouble...most of the time.
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