Page 24 of Parentmoon

Within seconds, I’m panting with need, clutching his shoulders, watching as he grinds me over him. He lifts my T-shirt over my head before he grabs his from the collar at the back of his neck and tugs it forward. I coast my hands over his warm skin, but Dallas is on a mission. He’s pushing the waistband of my shorts, hooking his thumbs into a less-preventative pair of underwear I’d slipped on to sleep in. He’s taking down both articles of clothing at the same time, which get caught in our current position with me over his lap.

Once again, we rotate until I’m on my back and Dallas is removing my bottoms.

“What are we doing?” I whisper, well aware of him taking off my clothes but wondering how we’re in this position. How is it I’m naked before him?

“I’m having you for breakfast.”

“Oh God,” I whimper, not able to remember the last time someone’s mouth was between my legs. Dallas is there within an instant, as hungry and eager as when he kisses me. Lapping against the slit, his tongue circles along my folds, tracing them until finding the swollen nub that craves his attention.

He flicks.

He nips.

Then he’s feasting.

My legs spread wider, and my eyes roll back. I cup my hands over his barely-there hair and rock into his enthusiasm. Wet and dripping, a combination of his mouth and my desire, I hum and whimper with each swipe until everything rushes to my center.

“Dallas,” I warn. Or maybe it’s a question. Perhaps praise. I haven’t felt anything like this in so long. The euphoria of someone else consuming me. The blatant attempt of someone trying to please me. I hover on the edge before tipping over, like base diving off a cliff, gracefully plummeting into the most refreshing waters.

Bliss. Pure bliss.

My thighs clasp, wedging Dallas’s head between them. He’s relentless until I’m tugging at his ears, gently pushing at him to release me.

He pulls back and skims his lips against my inner thigh. Then he kisses the same spot on the opposite leg.

Slowly, he kneels between my legs, holding my knees apart.

“Return the favor or let me fuck you, darlin’?” His voice is rough while soft. His desperation on edge but patient. The proposition isn’t romantic, but the desire within his question tells me he wants more of me.

While I’m not opposed to returning the favor, selfishly, I want him inside me.

“Fuck me,” I whisper.

Dallas falls forward, catching himself by his hands on either side of my shoulders. “Good answer.” Balancing on one arm, he pushes down his shorts. Apparently, he’s not wearing underwear.

“Condom?” I squeak out the suggestion of something I haven’t had to ask for in a long time.

Dallas kneels back again, maneuvers his legs to remove his shorts completely, and pulls a condom from the pocket. I could comment on his preparedness but I’m too enthralled by the scene before me. This brawny man concentrating on his cock as he rolls down the condom to cover himself. The position of him, on his knees between my spread thighs, is all silver fox porn.

Sweet mother of all things.

Dallas leans over me again, balancing himself once more by his arms. Then his tip is at my entrance. The first nudge is snug.

“It’s been a while,” I whisper.

“Gonna fit just fine, darlin’.” He presses forward, spreading me, slowly filling me. With each additional inch, my legs open wider. I clutch his biceps as he balances over me, watching himself disappear inside me.

While I expected Dallas to thrust fast and sharp, he takes his time until he’s to the hilt, and I’m stretched and filled. Lowering to his elbows, he cages me in and swipes his fingertips along the side of my face, brushing my short hair behind my ears. The warmth of his chest seeps into my skin. My breasts ache with sensual pleasure.

“Good?” His deep voice drops low.

“Good.” The word hardly encapsulates the sensation, though. As Dallas pulls back, dragging himself to the entrance once more, my eyes roll. My lids close.

“Look at me, darlin’.”

Staring into his eyes is so intense, so intimate, but I open my eyes and focus on his face. His nose. His lips. His chin. Until I can’t take it anymore. He’s teasing me with escape, and I clasp my legs against his hips, wrapping my calves over him, pressing my heels into the fine globes of his ass.

“Want me?” The soft chuckle in his voice vibrates against my sternum and tickles another place on me, lower, deeper, desperate to keep us connected.